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1653 East Mcin Street
Re tiester. New York 14609 USA
(716) 482 - 0300 -Phone
(716) 288 - 5989 - Fox
A Vision ok tiik N'Kjnr.
—Page i'flj.
'ge Mi.
I
A KENT SQUIRE
Being a record of certain Adven-
tures of AMBROSE GWYNETT
Esquire, of Thornhaugh ^ ^
By
FREDERICK W. HAYES
IVITH SIXTEEN ILLUSTJJATWyS BY THE AUTHOR
Toronto :
WILLIAM BRIGGS
Entered according to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the year one
thousand nine hundred, by W.llum Brioos. at the Department of
Agiiculture, Ottawa.
inry
■ one
nt o<
MY WIFE
NOTE
too *r/ , • ""'""'Ses and the incidents introduced
mto the following narrative the student of early eighteenth
century history will be familiar. For the rest the wrtr"
B .ndebted to the family papers of the Ltir LCse
Dornngton, the last surviving representative of ,hl ^ °^^
of Thornhaugh. representative of the Gwynetts
Although these letters, diaries, and other documents have
for reasons valid enough in their day, remained unpublished'
nection of Mi. Ambrose Gwynett with the Collins affair in
7.^ and „s curious sequel. Many years afterwards wLen
ransp'eTd'htd^f-"" "'^.- '° ''' '^ ">'^ ^^ ^"""^ "
rr ™' '° ^ ''"gotten, various garbled or
utterly .ncorreet versions of the cause cilibre appear to have
GwZ" " t'' Zt '*'^''' '"'"= ^'^--"- Of aI'
ofTe ei.h!ee;.h 1 , '■'' '"■'"''"'™ '■" **= ^'~"<i half
ot the eighteenth century as a chapbook. In the British
Museum catalogue this little work is attributed (apparem y ot
the strength of an unsigned MS. note in theif edS of
r77o) to :saae Bickerstaffe, the dramatist, and relied as a
fc lon-not without reason. A very pretintious 1 story of
he affair written by L. Castilhon, and published a. Bou Hon
:^re' etaCntirLl/'th^: r^^ ^^[^T^
Lnnn !; >;!,":.,^ :!'"'.';" '"™"™^ '699, and a short
.7«, the present chronicler is nil i„ a pos'iti'on" f^alf "
CONTENTS
BOOK I
xrbe ®ufte'0 mwion
CHAP.
I. AT WRAY MANOR
* • « •
II. THE ABBE GAULTIER liKlNGS SOME NEWS
III. IN THE CHANNEL
IV. HOW THE FLEUR DE LY^ ARRIVED AT CALAIS
V. HOW AMBROSE GWYNETT HAD A GOOD SLEEP
VI. HOW MADEMOISELLE DAGUERRE PLAYED THE HOSTE.9S 41
VH. AT VERSAILLES
• • . .
VHI. YVONNE DE VALINCOUR
IX. CONTAINING A SHORT HISTORICAL DIGKK.SION
X. A PRIVY COUNCIL
*■•••.
XI. A STATE SECRET .
XII. IN WHICH M. DE TORCY ASKS A GOOD MANY QUES-
TIONS .
XIII. AMBROSE GWYNETT DOKS A LinXE CAKPENTKV
XIV. THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH TURNS AN HONEST
PENNY
PACK
3
12
21
26
32
48
54
64
6S
75
86
95
105
VI
ContentB
CHAP.
XV. CAPTAIN KERMODE GETS A JOB
XVI. A FA.MILY MEETING
* • •
XVII. CAPTAIN KERMODE MAKKS READY TO SAIL
XVIH. c. -TAIN KERMODE CHANGES HIS CREW .
BOOK ir
tl Great Uieason
THE ABBE GAULTIER IS SUDDENLY INDISPOSED
THE CURE OF STE. MARIE GENESTE
THE AfiBE GAULTIER MAKES HIMSELF GEN
USEFUL .
• •
A DISCOVERY
• • •
A GAME OK HIDE-AND-SEEK
AMBROSE CWYNETT SELECTS A LANDLOI
THE BREST LETTER
A LETT RE DE CACHET
THE FOURTH BAZINIERE
SETTLING THINGS
XIX,
XX.
XXI.
XXH.
XXMI.
XXIV.
XXV.
XXVI.
XXVII.
XXVHI.
PACE
114
121
130
R\LLY
141
149
• 157
. 165
172
180
189
197
207
216
BOOK III
XTbe atfatr at tbe 'Crown au5 aiicbor'
XXIX. THE DUKE IN LONDON
• ■
XXX. CHECKMATE
• • • .
XXXI. NEW YEAR'S EVE AT WRaY cOTTAGK
. 221
. 227
X.XXIl. NEW year's eve AT THr < .m.^,...,
^vt AI IHE CROWN AND ANCHOR' . 246
XXXIII. THE ABBE IS VISITED Rv a« .K,or,.
visutu BY AN INSPIRATION . .21;^
'i-
Contents
CHAP.
XXXIV. A VISION OF THE NIGHT
XXXV. A FRIEND IN NEED
XXXVI, A RIDE AGAINST TIME
• • • t
XXXVII. THE DAWN OF THE 6th OF FEBRUARY
XXXVIII. MAIDSTONE EN FETE
* • • •
XXXIX. AT THE CROSS-ROADS
' • • •
XL. THE ABI3E VISITS WRAY COTTAGE.
Vil
PACK
261
269
287
306
3M
XLI.
XLII.
XLIII,
XLIV.
XLV.
XLVI.
XLVII.
XLVIII.
XLIX.
L.
LI.
LII.
345
367
LAIS-
BOOK IV
B 3BI0 for JEmplre
r
A CELEBRATED SNUFF-BOX
• t
A TREATY OF ALLIANCE
* • •
A POLITICAL CRISIS
WHAT M. DE TORCY HEARD AT CALAIS
. UNCLE AND NEPHEW
HOW M. d'oRLEANS RETURNED TO THE P.
ROYAL .
376
THE ABBE GAULTIER IS THE RECrniENT OF A
LITTLE CONFIDENCE
• 389
THE ABBE ASSISTS AT A DOMESTIC TR^r.EDY . . 403
HOW LORD OXFORD LOOKED AT THINGS
DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND
IN WHICH MR. WROTTESLEY IS VERY MUCH SUR-
PRISED .
• 429
WHICH EXPLAINS CERTAIN MATTERS . , . ^.g
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
I I
ii
A VISION or THE NIGHT {pa^e 263)
ON THE TERRACE AT WRAV MANOR
" THE PLAGUE ! "
"LOOK AT ME WELL, DEAR ARMAND
"de torcy poured out a glass"
THE DUKE AND CAPTAJN KERMODE
"the BRIG DISAPPEARED"
AT STE. MARIE GENESTE
THE FOURTH BAZINIERE .
"/ SWEEP or THE CHAIR"
THE AMBUSCADE
"the tolling of A bell"
"the face of AMBROSE GWYNE
"SPRANG UPON THE OVERTURNED COACH
"it WAS A SEALED LETTER"
"a blank SHEET OF PAPrR. "
PAGK
Frontispiece
8
29
56
82
"5
«39
»59
214
260
289
295
324
382
410
428
29
56
82
"5
■39
>59
214
260
289
295
324
382
410
428
BOOK I
^be TbwU'Q riDiHion
CHAPTER I
AT WRAY MANOR
One warm afternoon towards the miVlHU ^r A^ ^
squire Wray and his old friend Mr. Senrl s^ T^^' "' ''"'
terrace of Wray Manor sioDintr fhl v ^ , ^°^^ ^at on the
dinner of the period ^^ ^ ^^^'' "^'"^ ^^^^' ^he two o'clock
For a week or more a sort of r«ri.-
reigning, and both days and nkhts h'3 k"'""^^'" ^^^ been
as in the hottest Augusl Mr sfinh k^'"? ^' °PPressive
bination of official worry(in h s capLtv nf'r ^°""^ '^^ ^°'"-
a fresh attack of gout and the .S ^ u( ^^Z^'S" secretary),
somewhat too mu'ch"for"h^s tdur^e"" H ^ad'^c °' '^""'^"•
come down on one of his occitinn.i ^\^^^ consequently
where he was always welcome Tnh^l ""'fV ^^^ Manor,
life-long friend, th'e finest 'S? fine gentlem^' ?'"'^^^ °^ ^
world j,ar excellence, and a vivadoKh^ ' ^ ""^^ ^^ ^he
an mterval rather longer ?han usua had 'l? """r ?^"'°"' ^"t
meeting of host and guest and fi- ^P'^? ''"'^^ ^he last
or no time to bestow a share of h.-,"V'"'''''" ^^^ ^°"«d ''""le
upon the squire. The later rleivwenfro^"' ^?"^«P°"dence
rarely read a broadsheet, and was 1- "^ ' """'^
as Kta^k^thtl^o^^^^ observed St. John.
Thanks to you," replied the squire,
sent you a'montS'go^/"''"" '^'' ^"-the hogshead I
swZ\\h\T^ivL^up alrho'r>fof/ ''' ^^ -ine-mercha„t
again." ^ ^" "^ ^" ^^P^ of laymg a fresh stock down
■ Q« f k
all
-srL^rcairLv^;'.^, s^ljj'lo^*- *'• w.
H ^ent Squire
II .5
" I can't make out why it's so dear and scarce now the duty
is removed."
" Bless your innocent soul, squire ! What did the duty
HMrtter? Nobody paid it so long as Kit Kermode and his
frienH' wertj ready to run a cirgo for us whenever our cellars
got low. But we take off the duty, to please the clubs and
the parsons and the ladies in the Strand, and what happens ?
Within a week the French government prohibits the export
of their wines except in French vessels, and we're done."
"I didn't hear of that."
" Plague Mke them ! You see, the job now is, not to
land a cargo re, but to get it on board in France in the
first instance. And the infernal wine-shippers have got the
trick of giving information themselves against the smugglers
every now and then. That's how Kit has got into trouble-
lost his last cargo and the lugger into the bargain."
"That's a piLy," said the squire, with whom claret stood
next in importance to the Protestant succession and tho nunolv
of foxes. ^^^
" Yes. Just got his hold filled and putting to sea, when a
revenue-cutter sends a shot across his bows, takes his boat
and cargo to Maerdyk, and sells his wine for an old song back
again to the very scoundrel he had bought it from, and that
same scoundrel had given the tip to the coastguards himself.
There's your son Noel, I see. Who ij the lady?" and the
secretary pointed to a young fellow of seventeen or eighteen
who appeared at the end of the lawn, walking beside a girl of
about the same age.
" My niece Avice— my sister's child. You haven't seen her
lately."
" Not for three or four years. And a charming demoiselle
she has become, if my eyes are of any use at this distance. I
make you my compliments. Anything between her and Noel ? "
** Plenty of time for that. They are only children."
" Stuff ! You can't call a young fellow a child and worry me
for a commission for him at the same time."
"Noel hasn't forgiven your refusing him one in the
expedition to Quebec."
" The deuce ! Do you think I'd put any friend of mine
under that triple idiot, Jack Hill "- You ought to know me
better than that "
"But everybody credits you ,n :.! k"u ig Mrs. i.iasham's
brother tlie appointment to the cuinmand."
St. John burst into a roar of laughter.
a Ikent Squire j
"Of course I did. But that was only because Rnh w i
had been fool enouch to ref- S ,r L u °° ^^^^^V
about it. in to that ILT ' i^''" '^^ P'"'^^! him
Anne's bedchamtr-.^^" a^r& X'n* "' ""' h^T"
of a Tory .inisCwjLte g a" ?V i™";'" w,S'.he^''^''
the fc,uirer""''"'''"^^^"'''^"''*y8^"i"8 ''- peerage," said
whefherThave the Ld 7nrn,' ""'ft' "^""^^ ' I™'' know
minister rafaed W, hat as SltZ ''' ''""' «ed,» and the
steps of the terrace ''"""^ P^^P'^ ''^'"^ "P "-e
sha'k?n7h'a„'ds''':rth the'f^?'',.^'' «'■ Mn, ' said Avice,
knack *of ingratfafeg hUeTf'": ;2« f""""'' ''° ^"^ '"e
di.K,„s of wSmen as'we'Is of'l^en "^''- '"'=■ ''"'' """
youfa::a''LTto''^Wfw1tr.:^' °" ^'^ J<">' "' "-
befJerrro°;^>:!:id'°Nor " ^'•^''" °' "-- -«-
youf:^tlf-suc'h"I Lrf^'ol a's^^en'e^^r^^?" ™T '^^ '° '«
surprise me less than JZJ'JT'fl.^'l-. ."°'l' 'S would
sunrise me,, ess tSa^to he. of^rf™kr;:i
amps ana an.- ^' *"* "»-•
«
There is still Flanders
.1^ e
and if,
as
wVheV;rSo=LVse^SU",o:tr^^.."'-.
I 'I
H "Rent Squfre
" Don't believe it. My lord Oxford wanted me to take it
To be secretary for
I would sooner lead
piece of packthread. Gad !
of roses, without that, as
war with
a Bengal
no :
you
a year ago — a likely thing
the duke as lord-general !
tiger about the Mall with a
the council is not a bed
know."
"We were very much alarmed for your safety when we
heard of that outrage last April," said Avice.
" Ah ! " said St. John, with one of his explosions of laughter,
"that was a good thing for Harley— and all owing to me,
as I tell him."
" Who was that marquis de Guiscard ? " asked Noel.
"No marquis at all, to begin with, but only the heir of
one. The father is, I believe, a man of excellent standing,
who disowned his son. But poor de la Bourlie was an abb^,
at all events— all the worse for his abbacy, I should say.
I don't know whose throat he had cut to make it necessary
for him to leave his country for his country's good. But I
helped to get him a colonelcy when he came over to England,
and we were devoted — well, let us say fellow-topers."
" An abbd a colonel ? " asked Avice, puzzled.
" Oh ! a lay ahh6 only — an a&di commendataire ; court-
patron of an abbey, in reality. It rains abb^s nowadays.
We have Gaultier— a lick-spittle of lord Jersey's— for another ;
and not long ago Menager brought over a certain abb6
Dubois with him from Paris — used to be tutor to the
due de Chartres — a keen fox, if there ever was one."
" But about your friend de la Bourlie ? " said the squire.
" You are right — revenons. His regiment got cut off at
Almanza, and his pay with it, so when Abigail and Bob Harley
had jockeyed the Whigs, he worried all of us to get him a
pension. Finally, although he and I had quarrelled over —
ahem !— over a lady, I got him a pension of five hundred
a year from the queen. Bob at once cut it down to four
hundred. De la Bourlie was disgusted beyond measure,
entered into correspondence with the French court as a paid
spy, and was fool enough to get found out."
" We heard something about that from Ambrose Gwynett —
I mean," and Avice turned suddenly red, "from a friend
in Spain."
" Hang Ambrose Gwynett ! " roared the squire, with
sudden furv.
" By all means, as I don't know him," replied the accom-
modating secretary.
a •Rent Squire 7
"Go on with your story, my dear fellow," said the souire
cooling down as suddenly as he had boiled over ^ '
"WeirsQu^rl 'oTlTnVJ' appears," said St. John 'to himself.
wen, squire, our gentleman was arrested, with some com
promising letters on him, in St. James's Park They brouX
him straight to the Cockpit, where we were sitting late." ^
The reader may be reminded that the first lord of the
^easury's house n Downing Street (built by S r George
Downing in 1564) occupied the site of the cockpit wSch
was laid out by Henry VIII. for the palace of Whit^hLn
and was still popularly called by its old designation. '
&S;ii&^-^
and before you could say Jack Robinson he^had mck BobTn
the breast with a penknife. Bob falling on the floor~the bbS
jobbmg at him with his penknife brokln short off-evei^bodv
bawhng-Gad, sir ! you would have roared." ^^^^^ody
eyes ^°" '^'''^ ^'' lordship?" said Avice, with wide-open
" Not a bit of it," replied the candid secretary « T Mt
Newgate the next day, and asked him why the devif h^
horrified '' '° "^'^'^'n^"' XO"?" exclaimed Avice,
" Bw'^pojr r ,f P*1'"y''t'"'°"'" -^"""'^^ *e secretary.
turnkeyTNtr S: ato'od%Srn"|L°'oS .f""' ^^^
pubHc at sixpence'^ftLr wZlJ^O" ^^owed him to the
But Avice had fled at this last reminiscence, and Noel
8
H fcent Sautre
! \
followed her. Mr. St. John laughed and opened a fresh
bottle.
" I ought to have recollected that the ladies are squeamish
about these things," he said. "The queen heard of the
exhibition, and sent down orders for my revered chum to be
buried forthwith. Rather hard on the turnkey, I thought."
"Good-evening, squire," said a new voice behind them.
The newcomer was a young girl of striking beauty, a brunette,
tall and graceful, and of about seventeen years of age, who
bowed slightly to St. John as she rested her hand on the
squire's shoulder.
" Ah ! my dear," said the old gentleman, turning round.
" This is my friend Mr. St. John, from London. A neighbour
of ours, Harry — mistress Muriel Dorrington."
The secretary raised his hat with immense empresstment,
pleading his gout as an apology for not rising.
" They said Avice was with you, squire," said the girl,
acknowledging Mr. St. John's salute.
The squire pointed in the direction taken by his son
and niece.
" She and Noel have only just left us," he said.
" I have a letter to show her. I will see you again." And
the young lady went to seek her friend.
St. John looked after her, apparently speechless with
astonishment. At last he found his voice.
" Heavens and earth, Wray ! Who is that girl ? "
" Dorrington's orphan child — you must have known
Dorrington."
"Not I."
"Oh! yes, you must. A Devonshire man, hand-in-glove
with Melfort and Middleton and all the Jacobite tribe in the
nineties. Used to spend half his time backwards and forwards
between London and St. Germain before the ex-king died.
He disappeared — let me see — sixteen or seventeen years ago."
" Disappeared ? "
" Yes ; left home one day and was never heard of again.
His wife died broken-hearted six months afterwards, when
Muriel was only a week old. A sister of his took charge of
the child and brought her up."
" A neighbour of yours ? "
"After a fashion. Madam Rostherne rents our little
QOTver'nouss across tne pjiric, a ray v^Ottage, anu used tO iive
half there and half in London. Latterly she has been very
little in town."
fresh
1
^^f{ciy^r-
On tiik Tkhkack .,r Whav Manoh.
-/'(7(/(' H.
! ii!
a Ikent Squire
I couldn't
are your
"That accounts for it, I suppose."
" Accounts for what ? "
Why, my never hearing of her. Gad, sir ! a face and
figure hke that would be known all over the town in a week
Never saw anything like it ! A perfect Kebe— simply superb ! "
The squire seemed rather amused at his guest's enthusiasm.
I am glad you are enjoying the claret," he said.
" Don't be a fool ! I should be drunk indeed if
tell a pretty woman when I see one. Where
eyes, man? There isn't such another beauty in the three
kmgdoms."
"Well," said the squire, rat! er staggered, "of course, any-
one can see the girl's nice-looking "
II Hear him ! " remarked St. John, at large. " Nice-looking ! "
But we hke her for her good-nature and her pleasant ways
and her pluck— a rare girl after the hounds, Harry. Refuses
nothmg.
"Ah! Any fortune?"
" She takes the Devonshire property at twenty-one if
father doesn't turn up before then. There's no entail
is a Chancery ward."
" Engaged yet ? "
"Some cursed nonsense of that sort has been
but I won't hear of it, as far as I am concerned: Young
Ambrose Gwynett, of Thornhaugh, on the other side of Wray
Wood— a kmg James man, like his father."
i! iu "?^ •^™' -^^ ^^^ ^^"^^ ^" the siege of Londonderry."
A • ,f u^' ^° Gwynett's an orphan, like Muriel, you see.
Avice will have it that was what attracted them to each other
when they used to meet at hounds. Luckily the old woman—
the aunt— detests him as I do."
"Why?"
"Why? Because she's a stout friend to the succession,
or course. She refuses her consent altogether to her niece
marrying a rascally Jacobite."
« ".?"'^u yi^-^*', ^™P'y ^ ^^" to let a girl like that be put
on the shelf in her teens by a nobody. I suppose the usual
thing has occurred— this Gwynett is a misshapen oaf, just
oy way of keeping things at an average."
'There you're out, as it happens. To give the devil his
aue, a finer fellow to look at never trod in shoe-leather. I
her
She
going on.
always said the women drove
their fooling after him
' Gone abroad ?
e luni out oi tne counuy with
N
Nl i
J! ^m
]i -( ,1!
10
a 1kent Squire
I
" He has an uncle in Austria, or Bavaria, or somewhere—
his mother's brother. The last I heard— through Avice, of
course— was that he was in Spain, with the French com-
mander-in-chief. That's what your infernal pretender's men
are good for."
*• If you come to that, your Lothario has as good a right
to serve under Vendome as Jack Churchill had to serve
under Turenne— so long as he isn't opposite British soldiers.
What do you or I care for the Imperialist party in Spain?
Not a brass farthing, and you know it. The Spaniards them-
selves back up the duke of Anjou, there's not a doubt of it."
"Then what have we been fighting for, the last ten years ?"
"Good Lord! to enable prince Eugene to spite the king
of France, and Jack Churchill to fill his pockets, I suppose.
Who is Noel bringing this way ? The abb^ Gaultier, confound
him ! Why the deuce can't Harley leave me twenty-four hours
in peace ? "
The newcomer was a man of rather distinguished appearance,
with features, complexion, and accent hailing from southern
France. He was fashionably dressed in semi-military garb,
carried himself with considerably more of the air of cavalier
than of cleric, and spoke English fluently, with a certain
marked peculiarity of voice which he would have been quite
unable to disguise.
" Your obedient servant, Mr. Wray," he said, as he came up.
"Good evening, Mr. St. John."
The squire shook hands, and St. John nodded.
"I am sorry to intrude on your retirement," proceeded the
abb^, " but my lord Oxford thought it needful to send you
these despatches. I am to hold myself at your disposal to
communicate them to the proper quarters." And he handed
St. John an official packet.
" Hang me if I'll look at them to-night," said the foreign
secretary, with the freedom from cares of state inspired by
his third bottle. " I can't write English after dinner, let alone
French. To-morrow, my good sir, to-morrow — when 'the
morn, in russet mantle clad, walks o'er the dew of yon high
eastern hill' By the way, that reminds me. Any news of
general Hill, M. Gaultier?"
"Yes," replied the abbd. "I heard, just before I left
town, of the return of the Quebec forces. They had arrived
at Portsmouth— that is, what is left of them. Half the ship?;
were lost off the Canadian coast, and two-thirds of the men.
The expedition has been a total failure. Unfortunately, also,
H tkcnt Squire
tt
;eded the
send you
isposal to
le handed
'^B^H
le foreign
spired by
let alone
1
hen * the
yon high
news of
'^H
re I left
d arrived
4b
the shin?;
\l9
the men.
m
the admiral's ship blew up just as general Hill was entering
port, three days ago."
" There ! " said the secretary. " What did i tell you,
Noel ? Reverence me as a prophet in future, I beg of you.
Squire, can you put the abbd up till to-morrow ? ''
"With great pleasure," replied the squire, with no very
extravagant cordiality in his tone. "Noel, see to M. Gaultier's
quarters."
"You are very good," said the abb^, bowing. "May I
present my respects to the ladies, whom I saw at a distance
just now?"
" We shall pass them," said Noel.
The abbd walked off with his companion, and St. John
turned to the squire.
"I did not know Gaultier was a friend of yours," he
observed, rather grimly.
" He made the acquaintance of Muriel and her aunt in
town, and called upon them at the Cottage afterwards, passing
through to Dover. I was there at the moment, t Hon't
like him."
"Gad! you needn't— a greater scoundrel doesn't walk,"
observed the secretary.
" You seem to tolerate him yourself," said the squire, rather
annoyed. "What is there against him, and who is he?
You may as well say all there is to say, while vou are
about it." ^
" What there is isn't much. He's the son of a rich
St. Germain merchant, who bought a little manor in Languedoc
and set up as a lord of the soil. The son came over here
years ago with mardchal de Tallard's embassy as a sort of
tame chaplain. I saw him first when the king took de Tallard
to the Newmarket spring meeting. The lot of us, royalty and
all, just escaped being robbed by highwaymen by the skin
of our teeth. On the road Gaultier made himself useful to
lord Jersey m some disreputable way or other, and insinuated
himself mto the family— the countess is a Catholic, you know.
Found his quarters comfortable, and stayed on, after de Tallard
went home, to turn an honest penny as a French spy, eked
out with what he got for reading prayers in comte de Galas's
chapel."
"Pah!" said the squire.
"Vvhen Abigail and Harley got us into office, we wanted
someone to go to de Torcy and open up negotiations for
peace— someone too obscure to attract attention, you know,
It
a -Rent Sqiure
rTLt^n^rcTuti^^^^ ' '"'^'^ -"^ --H- Jersey
"Heaven 'hll? ^°'' ^n^ong you," commented the squire
trraTor'Hrhnp^^^^^^^
us ?1 this yea" Of cT ^'' k^ ^."'''^^^^•^ ^"^ forwards for
When ? came to That dTVn' ^°''"'^ '^^"^"^ "^g^^'^^^-
Menager to meet Matt Prin? 7 ^ ^ f "u' .r^' ^ ^^"^''^ M.
anotto S^?°'" '"" "'^ <^'^sus.ed . juire. " Shall we have
" Of course," repUed the secretary.
CHAPTER II
THE ABb£ OAULTIER BRINGS SOME NEWS
Nod'a«S°hfs"'reauesfT 'th^'l'^'^ '"P '" confabulation with
Muriel?" ■'°""- ^^^^ ^^ you say,
ab!ood?hK'mon"'er 't^^^^^^ 'T' ^^-^y' "'^^^ ^^^ -«
of vn„ • " 'o^^ .^n^^'- ^".^^^ meantime, it will be verv nice
Avic7aboit " ^" ''''^'' '^'"^"^'^ ^'"" ^^'"^^^'"g to talk to
H Itent Squire ,3
At this moment a servant came up and delivered a messaee
to Noel. He turned to the two girls
;' I'", be more than nice," said he. " I'll not only go away
arrived "^ ^^"'^'^^ ^''''^ "^'^^ "'''• "^ ^^« J"^*
u "n'^i^^i !°""^f P'^omising," observed Avice. « I expect I
shall find him charming. It will be quite pleasant to meet a
man who is different to Noel."
HnnKi" 'J""^ ^*"i'" ^^^^..Noel. "so that I shall enjoy the
double pleasure of providing Avice with one agreeable com-
panion, and Muriel with another-to wit, myself-for the rest
^L*?^^ ^T'5^-^ .^"^ ?^ y°""S man, delivering this Parthian
shaft, walked off after the retiring servant
" Who is this abbd Gaultier ? " asked Avice. « Do you
know him ? I don't." ^
" Aunt knows some relatives of lady Tersev's in town "
replied Muriel. "Two or three times /he^we' supped w^
them this gentleman was there. He fastened upon me at
once-I suppose he had heard that I should have a little
property some day." "^
an?nhn,?'?!f ^^^- ^^^^ ^°"°''''" '^'^ ^^'c^, who cherished
envv ?nr h. i'^^'T^' ti"^t"^«d by a reasonable spice of
envy, for her friend's attractions. "You didn't suonose
anything of the sort in Ambrose's case " ^^
too'dXtfwordr '''' """"'' "'' ^ "°^" ^" ^^^ --P--"
yo:ii^wi"^t;^:t^f '^ ^''"^^^^ you fbr yourself;
" rhat alternative is a little more hateful than the other
Anyhow, he made several opportunities of seeing me then he
became complimentary, as I presume he considf r^ft.' Twice
when you were away in Devonshire, he called at the CoS
^^'is?rote?r-°" ''' ^'^ '^ '-^- - ^^ -^'
" F^LVpir? ''"^ *° ^^" ^°" ' ^^^' ^^^ ^ ^^"- ''
.hrlfl%A^^J!i°"lH.°'^' I'. <=ame by way of France.
1 "'."J' J^^=cy s inends. You know they get letters from
bt.^ Germain pretty regularly." ^ ^
" Any particular news—that I may hear ? »
H
a "Rent Squire
princesse is really a woman nf Urfu l - J^^^y ^^^
to^ducheas Sarah, and Mrs. Masha^t'ol' :ve';"'L''tr
dau'2rJf.:1e;'guat;''T?' ""'«■" "^ ■'■^<''<' » ''<«P«'=
for in this same vear, famous pohtical adventuresses,
Of a Liv^nr ^qSr^ter! Sw" o'fTtS' r^""''
Catharine of RuSa ^'""' "^ ''''=™' ""a empress
"n"lri;f ,'' ?'^ commission ?■• asked Avice.
^ Juriel handed her companion part of the letter, and Avice
I can only sayTt iro"f„lom ,™." '^''^'''^ """8 P"^''"-
ought „„t\ h'ave teenVhced nTSr' But £ ' "'l"
—I mean the actual Roval na,.v .i,.f ■ i . ' P'^P'"
queen, and madame dS firs &Iseem tn 'hj''''' ^'f ' '''=
no one upon whom thev rln ,fi ''"' absolutey
pas,y-&rts s^vLxSs wi;: S,t.K
e from the
H sorts of
anish army
en staying
1 entrusted
a •ftent Squire
icularly
au
, compre-
ich means
eality, she
lot P—that
a mistress
Vance by
Only the
r^mouille.
ir second
different
le widow
trooper's
ituresses,
daughter
dragoon,
!t herself
empress
tting sail
what he
d Avice
explana-
; person.
I think
e people
:ing, the
(solutely
This is
hey can
5ss, and
It back
t%
to France a year ago, in order to ma r court Dt ular
about a httle danger. But if anything goes wrong n h s
affa.r ,t may prevent your hearing from me for some ti^e Do
not let my possible silence after this letter lead you to think
I am any the less your faithful lover,
Ambrose Gwynett.
♦t,f *?*~^^ ^^ any channel you can write to me to the care of
A. G."
"Dear me ! '' said Avi-e, "that sounds rather alarming
Surely he should have arrived before this." -'irmmg.
"We do not know when he actually started. But I can't
help feehng anxious."
;;0f course he will come from Calais to see you?"
...J " °u^ ^'""^ ^ ""^"^^^ ^° t^'k to you about. My
aunt is as much set against him as ever, and will not receive
him ; your uncle, of course, the same."
"It is not in the least his business."
"Perhaps not; but my aunt looks to him for advice in
everything, and he has always been very good to me-— -^
«< WK f u "^ u ^"^ ^^ ^'^ y°" "°t "ly oWest friend ? "
What has that to do with him? Still, he is very kind-
so kind that I don't want to vex him if I can help [ No7
tf we go to join you at our Devonshire place^next week'
as we arranged " ^ ^^'^'
"As you promised."
"I can only hope to see Ambrose at the risk of som^
qu^arrel between him and your uncle, if they hfppenedT
"But you know it is always uncle who nerform^! th^
quarrelling; Ambrose never does anything but p^ut on a little
more of his magnificent politeness." ^ "^
That is just the worst of it— it makes your uncle angrier
btMTance th^sou" T' '1^^"^^^' ' 'hink Thte^rg
«^v n u ■ ^^"•'■^ ^^'"g t»etter pleased."
Well, what is to be done?"
or 'toe wels" tM^' '•!! ^°" \""\^^^" '" Devonshire two
or mree weeks— that will give Ambrose time to come here
"'tw^'"' ^ ^''^' "°^ ^^^" ^^ for two years!"
1 n..t was your own fault."
"My fault?"
" He would not have gone away to baron von Starhemberg's
i6
a *cnt Squire
If you had not agreed with your aunt that there should be
no reguar betrothal between you till you were of agj^' '
p i uJ'""^' ^"^ Ambrose himself said that aunt
facr firrn^'^ '"""^ "'""" "P°" "^^' ^"d ^hat some temporary
sacrifice on our part was due to her~he knows I owe
everything to her care and affection. But what doTou say 5^"
vet tnS ^°;i' ^°'"1"^ "'^ .^°"'' trouble-we haven't gone
yet, and goodness knows when we shall, if Mr. St Tohn
thei^bi^TsL':'' ""^ '''^'' ^°^'' ^^' ^-^ ^^
" I think I will go home now."
to "st?y.» "'^'"' ""^ ^°" ■' ^^^ ""^ ^^^^ ^"^ '^ ^he abbd intends
n,a^rl ^"fr ^'''"''r' ''^'"^ "P- The abbd, in spite of the
. mask of self control acquired by a lifetime of intrigue, couJd
not conceal an mtens.ty of passion in the glance he nV^^
upon Mur^l, which made the latter tremble wi?h dislike
and h"ers"lf ^But'th^ - f. place Avice between Gaultl';
ana herself. But the abb^, m the course of a few minutes'
conversation, managed to get the party so divided that
Muriel was practically /efe-d-fe^e with him
Mademoiselle," said he, " I am delighted to meet you so
opportunely. If .t had been otherwise. I should have made
to Iv °w'^^^^^ ^°" '' ^'^•f, ^°"^S^' ' have some informS
to give which I am sure will interest you "
Muriel looked straight before her with a rigid face.
^^ That IS hardly likely, M. I'abb^," she said
It concerns Mr. Dorrington, your father "
^^Muriel turned instantly. The abbd smiled an imperceptible
"Zej>remier/>as," he said to himself.
" My father ? "
n^n^y^'" '^r^ ^^'.y ""^ y^""" ^^ther's strange disappearance
mich so^^1r7^ impression upon me when I he??d U^so
"ccted to me." "^''^ "^"""^ ""''''' '" ^^^^^ ^"^^^^ ^hat
'' With any result, sir ? "
"None, as it happened. But, curiously enough, a couole
of days ago your father's name was mentioned quite acd
dentally by a man who formerly knew him- an^old bodv"
servant to the late general Talmash " "^^
^ My father's foster-brother, I believe."
Mr DorSfAn'^""^'' Tf ^" extraordinary attachment between
Mr. Dorrington and the general, it seems, and they lived
A
re should be
of age."
i that aunt
ne temporary
:no\vs I owe
lo you say ? "
haven't gone
Ir. St. John
! your friend
abb^ intends
spite of the
rigue, could
nee he cast
nth disHke.
;en Gaultier
iew minutes'
ivided that
leet you so
have made
information
;e.
iperceptible
appearance
eard it, so
uarter that
, a couple
quite acci-
old body-
tit between
they lived
much together. May I ask if you know when vnnr r.^u
was last seen or heard of? " "^" ^"""^ ^*^*^er
"On one of '' first days in May, 1694."
I hat agrcLi with what I heard. 'I'he conversation w.c
emn? "f ""'".' /"'^^ °' ^^7"«^'^' ^^ this Jd'S^r-^
servant at the club-was asked about it. He STid h^
had never known but one man who could perform the f^.r
•n question. That was squire Dorrin«ton ind h h.H
cametik^' '''' °^ ^^^° '"'^^ '^ wen^^"' l^'it^and'n:rer
I c:r ;y%s^:: i:^:^^ ^-^ ^^-^ ^^-- of course.
to undSan^tiur^^^^r^f^rr °' '^'^^'"^ ^'^"^
« M,w T ^ j"Juniey 1 mean, at that uarticu ar t h-ie ? "
told him hin,self he was star^nl. for Fr ^^' ^'- ^^^'•""gto"
"That would be in war-tiS " unexpectedly."
afteMh'Z^'" ''''' "' ''^^"•^' ^'^ "°^ <^°-- till three years
;; Do you thi^nk he might have been taken prisoner ? "
I undent nT'Mr. Z^ ^^^^ ^f ^ ^-^^—d
safe, in the ordinary coS of thinlsStH ^"^Tr"^^ ^^
be made." " =»« 01 mmgs. btill, a mistake might
.h:ipa„ifhTuSordid'„o7bLr: ^^i:^'' -^- '•^■»■'
••■BO. He would surely have been rLl J , f'l °'. '""•' y^"^
prisoner of war?" "''^'""'' '^ ■"= had been a
imprfso„e3"o',; othe'Tr^ufJ'' '^"'r ^"i,"' "^' ^ave been
happened." ^ ""''' ' '" "^"^ ""y """gs may have
had^S'rth^tdThVb^heTThTr n "' "--■ «"»
have perished by some ob' ure accident or f^n""^' '■'";"
to violence. But if f;i„if,X ? ^^^'o^nt, or fallen a victim
possibilitv nith" .K ,^'^"' f'^ ^;^r*: correct, there seemed ,
other hanilh^' had an' im'fn i ^ f^^ '"^^'"'"S" ^n the
was inclined to ti-.-rrts^;:S;^^^^:^n^^
li
iS
a Ikent Squire
n
easeriv *'" Mv"lS™, ™' greater pleasure," said the abbe
cdi,criy. My present journey to Paris \vhi>h h^, fU^
as a secret-affords n.e an immedit^te"op;or unity Vfat'di
events, initiating some investigation " ^ '
assSce.''' "°' '''' ^"^''^^^^ ^" -J-'-g the proferred
"You are very good," she said reluctantly " Mv pnnt
might be able to furnish you with some slight in o mation aC
ment tt^nfT''"?.'"' ""^. ^° ^°^^h, at That date, to suppTe-
ment that of this old man in London." ^^
I will not fail to see her on the subiert hpfnr. t
resume_.y journey. I hope ..ost ferveml^^tr 'yo^Ta^e!
A happy thought flashed through Muriel's niind .im„l
=;pi;=,s-s-eV^^-?¥5
cU'L!;ic''aten.itf ^,^1^ bfnteans^^Mr-'s't ^fot™^ 1
offices and urge him to'^underuke.h^ quest ^ hI' ,1?,°'
StaVii^ueL-r %^.nt €kB t^f
:r r sZlfn'chT"' 'h '" -" ""he'lit:? toThf i,^s
on 'tht «?orh,?l;" e"" "^™'='' ""-'^^ ^'^^^0 *e words
.ro:Se" ;rt 'Ih7i;;:;tef JriniL^; r Lr^ "' -r
or friend of our family to look nto A. ?h "'^"'^^''
;™ Srttii - - °He1>'ie*e o? i=rS -
onJ'borass™i;r "'' '°"""-"' '"" '"^^ '^^' "^""'^
^rn'.f'"'" '»/"":'i°yed to hear that it has proved of servirf "
N^e, a^d^hircL™'" '"' '-''''' "^ ">=' --loin^riiy
Muriel turned to Avice.
" We have not finished our gossio " said ^h^. «« t
^^r^Z. S/"' ' '- »™"-'aw" ''l win'saTs'oo'd"
coS^sSr:;ir^-;!;s-»--^^!s:SJ;^
i
i purpose of
ice » she
id the abbe
by the way,
ty of, at all
e proferrcd
"My aunt
nation about
, to supple-
;t before I
your sake,
lind simul-
undisguised
a few days,
deavour to
ohn's good
His letter
rcise some
anxiety for
the abbe
the words
ight not to
a member
'i time, we
nformation
bbd could
f service,"
joined by
1 want to
say good
smile he
i went ofl".
B -Jkent Squire i^
The abb^ decided that it was a fnvnnrnKi^
elicit some useful information ^^^^^''^ble opportunity to
. hl^""/ ^° congratulate you?" he said to Noel drawina
a^dXi^e ' ''"^""' ^"' ^°°^'"^ significantly atrMud'l!
tobS^j-K'-^lSI^^
" wu S'^'S' ^ ""^^'•^^^"d, as well as a beauty ? "
^ V\ho? Do you mean mistress Dorrington ?"
no. need a fortune to nlt^ h r ^Jract^e"" X° M ^V °^'
As to mademoiselle Dorrington she ifnl^!',^'^ ^^'■''''■
I understood the town ToC\r,4t -hn; /''''''"?"''''=''' ''
say the gentleman's namfS ™ltpVd my memo?'.^"^' '°
into l^:Zl' "° "''"" "^^^^"^"'" -"--kerffi, falling
"Dia/j/e/" said the abbd tn hi'mc^if «c , , .
rsrt-'ii^,— 'i S ~ --?
Dornngton's marriage, I fear ? " ^ mademoiselle
"Why?" ^'
matters " unless 1 am mixing up
i. wat somior:'b?:;d ■?"' '°"' °' '"^ """^ ='"y- I bought
NcilSCS'ntt" ''"But'wet'"'"-^ 'T °' '"'- y---" said
to return ahnos*; j^nfeSLJdy""''^ '"^' *''"" """ "^^ '"'™ds
had'^gtf S.";hetfen:a.fon 'r''^' " "!'"'«'" *« ^'^b^' "ho
M. Noel, I win ITyo '°o excure'me P^'"' "^ •"^^
and have writing to do hef™. i ', ''™ "^'y "red.
for me to the ladies In ■ "''" «" '° '"^'^- Apologise
passing." '^"''- ' "'" J"« =P'=ak to Mr. St, John in
•■G'ood"„iSif;'ou'^rus.'"go.'"^ '"*"'^ "^-^■" -'<• No.,.
20
H Ikeiit SQuire
M !
.. "Until to-morrow " said the abb^, bowing as he went off.
^o! he said to himself venomously, "it is M. Ambrose
Gwynett, of Thornhaugh— what devils of names .'—who is in
tne way. All the worse for M. Ambrose Gwynett, of
Ihornhaugh. Muriel Dorrington is for me, M. Gwynett—
for me, Armand Gaultier, if a hundred of you stood in my
path ! And the abb^ disappeared in the entrance hall of
the manor.
Meanwhile Muriel was seated at a little escritoire in Avice'-
room, hnishing a letter. The concluding sentences ran :
" I^o not lose this opportunity, dear Ambrose, of doing vvluit
IS possible to set at rest the sad uncertainty which has w-eighed
upon us for so many years. Much as I long for your return, I
sliould feel myself an unloving and unfaithful daughter if I did
not urge upon you to undertake this task before anything else
—even the happiness of seeing you again. Your loving
Muriel."
"I suppose I must say nothing about Mr. St. Tohn?"
dehbeiated Muriel, with pen in hand.
" Good gracious, no ! Do you want us to be all hung
drawn, and quartered for corresponding with the enemy ? "
" If there has been any minister of state for the last twenty
years who has not corresponded with the enemy, he must
be quite a curiosity," said Muriel, who was not without a
smattering of contemporary statecraft. " But can we ask him
about it to-night ? "
Avice had a certain familiarity with the convivial habits of
the secretary for foreign affliirs— habits which, it is only fair
to say, were shared by three-fourths of the public men of his
clay, and were at that period not regarded as in any way
derogatory to good breeding.
"Not the least use in the world," she said. "About this
time he has usually the best reasons for sitting in an arm-chair
and m an hour he will have eciually good reasons for lyini,'
down In the morning he will be perfectly himself again, and
I will explain the whole matter to him. Finish with your
letter, and I will take charge of it."
^^ Muriel folded and sealed the letter, and addressed the cover
lo Ambrose Gwynett, esquire, to the care of his excellency
the governor of the port of Calais."
"Imnress upon \fr "^fr Tohn Hptt " ^-h-^ -r,;-' "-t • •
■ ,,' v!i— -- -»-i j'lir,, aear, ^ne aaiu, that it
Should go under a separate, private cover to the governor
and that I specially desire that M. Gaultier knows nothing
he went off.
/I. Ambrose
—who is in
jwynett, of
Gwynett —
tood in my
nee hall of
e in Avice's
ran :
a meat SciiUre
2t
Say good night for me
about it. Anc now I will go home,
to the gentlemen."
^^^Kl^ parted at the entrance to the gardens, and Noel
escorted Muriel to the Cottage.
In the morning a servant brought over a note from Avice
to the effect that the abl^e Gaultier had departed for Calais
canymg Muriel's letter in a sealed cover from Mr. St. Tohn
to the governor. ■'
' doing what
has weighed
our return, I
ihter if I did
nything else
ving
Muriel."
It. John?"
all hung,
enemy ? "
last twenty
■, he must
without a
re ask him
! habits of
1 only fair
nen of his
' any way
Vbout this
arm-chair,
for lying
again, and
with your
the cover,
excellency
" mac It
governor,
i nothing
CHAPTER III
IN THE CHANNEL
Night was falling over the English Channel. Vast drifts of
fog were swept across the sea by a gentle breeze from the
vvest, and the pale disc of the moon, just rising, was reflected
llZV'"'"'"''^" °" '''' '^°P'' °^ '^^ ground-swell from the
Midway between Barfleur and the Isle of Wight a smill
brig was making its way towards the Straits of Dover h
was of foreign build flying the French flag, and on the s'tern
IKe n'i' "^ ''"'" "' ^"'^' ^""^^ ^' distinguished
FLEUR DE LYF,
De Marseille.
The sails were dilapidated, and some of them partly carried
away. A good deal of the standing rigging hL dama ed
and the maintop-gallant mast, with its Vrd and sail, lay Tc'^os;
the deck in a confused heap. Part of the bulwa ksVn t^'e
ort side had been swept away bodily, and another portion
vvas^ hanging over the side and swinging with each roll of the
^sSV^tS'^""^' ''?'V° '^'^ ^'^""'' ^^"° motionless forms
rn In f One of. these was dressed in the garb of a
unlike most of his fashionable countrymen of that date he
wore his own hair instead of the portentous wig of the period!
22
B Ikeiit Squire
^'e!^r;r -delist ^ ^'^'' ^l ^-^ -"'^en eyes
his head resting uneT Hy on h is a™ Ti^'^^^" '^'^ ^'^^'
some short interval of sleen tHp r . f ,'^^^'"8 '" ^^'^
with one arm doubled un^e?" hii^lrwlt^J'^ °" ^is face,
towards the officer. ""^ ^^^ ^'h^'" stretched out
drifts o'f%:argTe o£?' 'A^" ^° '^^P^^ between the
his elbow, and^otdtt"L'c"tah'r"Th!'°^ ^^^"^^ -
feet, took the sailor by the arm In / ^u• ^^ ^ot on his
at his face. The Catalan Ts' dead t^ over to look
^HaHth' ^"' '""^^ ^- fac'int'-hanS,: °^"^ ^^' ^-"
offiS; r^L'rd wenTt" tK'' '"f ^'^ "'^'^^ ^^^^ «"• The
It seemed ' to re^u" o no 'iterat.^'n' XT' \''' ^'^'P'« ^«"^^--
for some weight, and havinft ^ ^^'^" ^^^ ^^"'^ed about
fastened it to^ the sailo 's ?fet .hh ^ '"'" ^.°^^'^ ^"^^or,
done, he dragged the bodv to Hp i . ^'"^^ u°^ ^^P^" ^his
poop and tried to hf' it over H,. f''"'u ^""^'"''^ «^ ^he
for this, so he pushed i? dn.. '^"^^^ '^^^ insufficient
followed it slowly anSvv^fhHTS T '^ '^^ "^^'" ^^ck, and
There he wa oppos e tTe oface'l^ ^"T" '^' P^op-'adder
away, and it was^easy to push th^f 'h' '''" ?'' ^^^ ^^"'^^
appeared in an instant ^ ^'^''^ overboard. It dis-
cabinVntr^e 7oot "Hrt"-^"V- J"?^^^ ^^^ -P^-n's
ship's biscuits andTflask of ,Wn/?f ^'k^.'^''"^^'^ ^'^^ s°"^e
him to the poop, together w^th^in "r ^' '"^"^ ^^^^k with
he wrapped hin se?ff ay dJ^n nn°l^ 'fu''''^ '^''^- ^" ^^is
and munched his hi cuL Eve v n/ '^'/l^'^'^ bulwarks,
went to examine the comnass th^l" ^f l^^" ^^ ''''^ and
heen lighted. The w?nd E teadilT? °^ ""k"''^ ^'^ ^^'^'^V
and the ship kept on her coSL^l^^Sfd'e"' i^n""" ^""^^^'
win^J^mo?:'d^srs:Sb:/^l?e^oT -^^^
when .a sail appearl^d on he' wes ern h"o™ "^' ^'" "^'f^-y'
for a meal, and returned with f telescZ ' "^'"^ ^^^°^^
he m:de"h:^rtoTerDufc,rp'''^^"^'■^'-"^ ^- ^'^'ock
-ucket-oFp— -SeSr-^kl^-;^
I
sunken eyes
on his side,
^ing in vain
on his face,
tretched out
between the
, leaned on
got on his
)ver to look
r sat down
^ on. The
ip's course.
)ked about
:'s anchor,
3pe. This
irk of the
insufficient
deck, and
op-ladder,
as carried
. It dis-
captain's
vith some
xick with
In this
bulwarks,
rose and
i already
■ quarter,
d. The
i the fog
e officer
ini(^-day,
U below
o'clock
5o tons,
isidered
fetched
; yellow
a ment Squire 23
signal flag from the cabin, he stretched it out flat and oainted
on It, m letters a foot high, the two Dutch words ^
PLAAG— HULP
-meaning respectively "plague" and "help."
K. ii ' M f ^""^"^ ^° ^^^''^"^^ ^^'s feeble strength. He was
barely aule, after u was accomplished, to haul down he FreS
flag flymg at the peak. This done, he lay down on the deck
and waited events. "^^'^'
The galiot came up hand over hand. At four o'clock iust
as the light was beginning to fade, it was abreast of the E
on the port side. A hail was heard, of which the officer fnnt
no notice. The Dutch crew crowded to the side of the g^ot
which came nearer. The hail was repeated. El citinfno
response, a consultation seemed to take place on the SliSt
which resulted in a flash from one of her norts ond hi
SlI T "'«;' '°""'"'"^ ^*^^°- ^he bowsof theX;5^zt
Still the officer remained passive, lying on the deck of the hnV
and watching the galiot from 'behind the buhvarks Iri a
couple of minutes the galiot steered direct for th. h-
^t^^^ tt -^J^7?!^o.Jn^ htldU'n sa!:
inis adjusted the speed of the ea ot tn th-^t r.f tUc j • 1
brought her within a^hird of a cfuS length " ''"«' ""*
"Crfes^o/af"' °"'' 'T- ^"-'ng '" t°re *rie" w5
linn Tl 1 ^""^ "'*' '^"'^ "» fo"0«ed this t-xh"bi
ion. Ihegahot ported her helm, passed under the stern nf
the bng, and came up on her starboard side. The officer tnof
istran°d ha d^itTn"?,' t'^'!.''™^ """<' 'is ntruXr
throw it' fmo ftesJa " ""' ^'"^' ^"P="^'"'>' '" «=='diness to
sopfa^zy-t5:^st;;-i-T:^/^^
Srbo^fo? th"e '^.,zi:z^:.^^'^''T^■^^^^^^^^
and commenced to t?w the ^W S Z,,' '=""°' '°'^'^ '''''''•
of un^re^r^'Hrrttrwar^rdr °r" i^^^ ^-'
saw out of the forecIst^P h,? f, ^'""^^'^ " '^^"^''" ""d
them ■■sirin '7, ™;'='^"'*'«' but after some consideration bin
were t'rained to "ports" cMe'^l'T ^«-P°™der guns which
.nulargun o'X^oorto Ictt a^^nfJI^^'^S,^
H
U IF^ent SqiUre
the armament of the brig With creat effnrf h« a ^ .
guns up to a level whirh of \u ^ , ^ "^ wedged these
would bring hem to b;a/on hr''"i,^'''^^^^ °^ '^' g^'>°^
began to be^ver^ung by the stern /nl'l^^'^'^xf' ^T ''^''' ^^
examined and renlenishpH fL /^ ^7' ^^^^ '^e carefully
This done helav dovvn n .• ' \'"^ "'"P'^^ed ^he aprons
state of extreme exhauJtL^'"i^^/:r'^^'"^ '"'^ ^^'^^"''y '" ^
the air was murky ^^ ^''^^" ^° ^'°^^ '"' and
a n"nrgleam t" '^1?,^ '^^ '"^he gloom, and only
The officer took a htUe /noH r?'" 'r^'-'f'^ ^^' P^^'^'O"-
binnacle-lamp Then he Z; fn 'T'""^'^"^ ^'^^ °'' '" ^he
rope by whicf JXtllsl^.^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^ ^^-^^^ the
Unftr'tun'tLi; °v"fth[n"?^ '^ ™°^"'"^'" ^^ ^o^'^oquised.
couple of polS^hTa "cleaTed"3^the^'l- T' •''^^"^^^ '-^
in sight. The full moon woe ' ^he galiot agam appeared
moving on the calioT Th T ""^- ^^ '«"''"' ^"^ ^'ghts were
for some hours. The mnnn r^.^uu .,^^y a"" the horizon
rose, went to the foren<?flp ^^f moon s disc. The officer
the grapnel rope a second tafc " "'"='' '" "'^'"'''- ^"^ c„.
U>e'^a\o'Snd''arn"d-shX" sse"d1l;™^^^rT *-' "-" °'
just over the officer's head ^ ""^h the brig's foresail,
Th'^latTshonerdTail^a^ndTh 'If '' T^ '° "'"-'f-
overtake her. A second Lrw^ffi J""'/' ^'^^ ''^B^" '"
under the starboard catheaSs '''■''^' ""'^ '""''' *e brig
He''sighw"^Lrg:no.''s";*di'er"Td\?r "" '""'""' B™-
fired. The brig wa aL,l ,' """=^"™«"''^ P^u'ie
seeonds the Por.'gur;as'ar:,;"fhe"slrspo.'°ff °'
Its turn was fired The hri.T ^n^ P°'' ^bis m
phot, and the lalterf MnglXr Z.'° J "or^" "' "j^
helpless. ^ auucner snot, fell off apparently
'' ^ooks like a hit," muttered the officer " Th«„'ii u
to heave ^o f 1] thev PTn - <■ ^u ■ omcer, Ihey'll havp
comes the fog." ^ ^'^ '^"' ^"^^^^ ^^P^'^ed, and here
^dged these
f" the galiot,
St where it
le carefully
the aprons,
idently in a
3se in, and
5, and only
f position.
oil in the
irough the
[uised.
hanged a
appeared
ights were
hecked in
e former
ccessfully
itchman.
e horizon
• About
ned, and
le officer
, and cut
■ poop of
> foresail,
limself.
Jegan to
the brig
ird gun.
:'s pause
'uple of
This in
of the
Jarently
'II have
id here
a Hicnt Squire 25
He went to the wheel and took his stand by it. The mist
came up and covered the sea, and the gahot, now half a me
of., disappeared. Her course, when last seen, was inX
cEs ?oVcL"r' ^' ''' '°'""^^- '^^^ ^^'-^ ^^^'^' up
The hours of the night wore slowly on. The officer
oppressed by a burning fever and an infinite weariness, passed
the time between standing at the wheel and lying propped up
against the taffrail. ^ '^ H'^ppt.ii up
^^f''}/''^ o'clock he left the wheel to go down the
poop-^^adder As he was descending his strength failed h m
and he fell heavily to the deck. Here he lay motionless fo;
twenty minutes or more, his face upturned to the canopy o
impenetrable mist overhead. A little rain began to fall %he
drops splashing on his face revived him. He rose with
difficulty, reeled into the cabin, and sank into the arm-chair
t^ apartment.' ''' '''' '^''^ ^'''^' ^-"P*^^ ^'^ --t of
It was several minutes before he could rise and go to the
locker where h.s meagre provisions were stored. Here he
found biscuits and another flask of wine. The former he fonnH
impossible to swallow, but he took a drink of the CaSan
wme, and turned to leave the cabin. Glancing through
the port, something attracted his attention, and he lookS
A ship whose bulk loomed gigantic through the thick mist
She was so close that he wondered their yards had not locked
Over her side four faces appeared, all bent with eager and
noTIe galiot.'"' "^°" ^'^ ^"^^^ ^^^^ '' '^' ^"g ^ was
As the officer looked up, he saw the tallest of the men ooen
his mouth to hail, when his neighbour stopped him wiTa
ernfied gesture, and went away^ A minufe afterward the
m St '^At Z^'"' '''' '';r^' ^"^ '^' P^^^^d away ?mo the
mist At the moment of her disappearance the officer caught
sight of the name, J^oya/ Mary, on her stern. ° '
He ascended the poop-ladder with infinite difficulty and
PostattheX'^T '^°"' '^""S backwards, to resume h"s
fel and a so?t o ■h.h'°"' T^ '° '™^ ^^ ^^^^>'^d ^"^ almost
leii, and a sort of delirium began to steal oyer him
^-.coup.coi hours after sunrise the fog lifted and the sim
shone brightly over the sea. Almost out of sl^ht in the
north-east, towards Dover, the sails of a ship glei'med whUe
PS i
f I
a6
H Ikeut Squire
T'?V^^^ ^'""^ horizon. This was probably the stranger
Ahnn? th!'t u ^. P"""^' r'^cognised as Cape Gris-Nez
theTesfnar rof%n'h'''"''^' ''"-^"^ ^'^^ ^^^"^'^"d lay for'
117U i_P " "°"'" unconscious.
When he came to himself the sun was high in the heavens
rning'-f ec' %. ^h^r ""'" °"' """ '"^ ""^ »-
lli!
II
111 I k
CHAPTER IV
HOW THE FLEUR DE LYS ARRIVED AT CALAIS
M. Raoul Daguerre. governor n^ roio.c. • •
faHer M I, "'"""°1 ''='' "''■"='"')' ^een made. To he
latter M. Daguerre owed his post as governor of which h^
d.si X"of S;- d"e^5ai„r„o'^™™'^' -^ '^^ -''"'"
Ibe w-orthy governor's want of orthodoxy did not Drevfn^
a ppre^d-hrtht^^^^^^^^
V toir? 'To'r This'" ""'""''•'" daughterind on^h'^i'^
her invent schon%rrf P,"'™,' "°" '■■"""cipatcd from
ho;,sX,d?'.h: rhl?:^„ix^r'':;pSdtt sr'^
have to be severe with her." --'^-""e. i shall xeuliy
a Tkent Squire ay
The cur^ was a man of about sixty years, with silverv
ha.r the physique of an athlete, and the fk^e ofTn apoltle
He had spent two-thirds of his hfe as a missionary and whin
summoned home had been given his cumcy U^rough^he
governor's Inrea't. '' '™"'"^' '^ "•^' ^ -"P^^ ^° the
" Don't brag pfere Anselme—you know you spoil her more
laTocul^L^'du roi'" .^ r ' ^^°"^ '°"' -^ madTm"
la procurcuse du roi would have some moderation in her
conc'eT¥tef Ss""- ^^ '' > " '^ ^ questiororbJ?!:
I verily 'bdLvl'i^' '°"''"'' ''''^' ^'^^^ "'S'^ts a week,'
''Per contra she works well at her studies, and your house
is no worse off than before, I take it." ^
" RMr!,''if "'^"^'T ^" everything, p^re Anselme."
|u we have only one youth, my dear governor."
F..,^ fT^^ ^^^ ^^^ '"Merited from her mo'her ,
tlemmg of Brabant. She curtsied to the priest Sed her
father, and took her place at the head of the table ' "
1 am considering the question of your return to the
Viri""* '°">'. P^'! Anselme has disappointed you " reolied
""fhTcurrSCfHtd. "■" "■'" "-^ ™'™^'' '=<'"«"^-
" Not at all— it is this inordinate pleasure-seekincr whirh T
h;^'cu";rt?e7' -^---"^." '-^^ *e go^t^o^pSn'
tone^^'-V'seemrtC ^^'''Ih^ his daughter, in a philosophic
my dear Jatl'er^ "' " ""■'^"■^"''^ compliment to yourself,
pr:S;n'SoTse*e^''^'™"''«= "' "^'"^ -conveniently
curt^nolIp'"'Hr''' ''?"='"ept very few invitations, and M le
Pa"mela";?-ri^ra?,Thr"^^^^^^
triDuie to your popularity in the fnwn^ cl " ,".'^'^' ^y ''^y "^
of the Dains M li^r.„ri k "' second, in recognition
cultivatfonof mvmLd ZZT'^''^''^^^ ^^^^^^^^ °" ^he
vctuon 01 my mmd, and third, as a personal compliment
a8
a fkcnt Qciwivc
II IN
" Quod era/ demonstrandntn," said the curd.
Victoire bowed gravely.
"I fatigue myself to acknowledge these well-deserved coni-
ttnkedf^ir '°'''" ^'^ "^"^ °"' "^"^^ ^ ^- -' "-
" There is no doubt mademoiselle is hardly used," observed
me cure. lo accept martyrdom, and to be criticised for
acceptmg it, is doubly distressing." ^rmcisea for
than?SdVup"posed."" "' P"'"" '' '^^" "°^^ "^^^'■^---
All three of the party laughed. It was quite evident that
Victo.re was one of those persons who, at all events in certain
^ « W^li "'h ^"^ ""^ ZTu^' '^^^ ^'°^^''"°'- '°'^ f^«"i '^'-s seat.
■ •; V ?^ f '*^' ^ ^^^^ ^^'"^^ sense of responsibility left
m spite of the demoralising atmosphere in which I find myself
and I must get to work." "lybcu,
v;rj°" fo^^^'s^d to take me with you some morning," said
Victoire, looking up from her omelette. " It is lovely weather
-:yhy not to-day ? M. le curd must come too "
What IS all that ? " asked the cure.
"Two of my usual assistants, and also the harbour-master
are unfortunately ill," explained the governor. " As a resuU
1 have to personally superintend the work of taking fresh
soundings in the fairway of the port. The secretary of marine
chart "^" "^g'"g expedition in the drawing up of the new
" Have the banks shifted ? "
"A good deal, '^hey seem to think it is the works it
Maerdyk. There will be plenty of room in my ganey" f you
will give us the honour of your company, M. le cure "
•' With pleasure, but for an hour only."
Breakfast over, the party drove down to the port. The
governors galley was waiting, and they were taken some
quarter of a mile away from low-water mark. Two men-of-
war s boats, under the command of a lieutenant, were busy
casting the lead, taking bearings, and recording the depths
indicated. Several small boats and fishing-smacks were
scattered about at a short distance, and a brig was in the
offing, making for the port. The wind had been blowing
freshly during the morning, but was now falling : and in the
neighbourhood of the galley it was almost a caln^
"That bng will have to use her sweeps to come up to
i
from
my
■ved coin-
not even
observed
icised for
eritorious
Jent that
n certain
his seat.
>ility left,
d myself,
ng," said
weather
r-master,
a result,
ng fresh
' marine
he new
orks at
', if you
t. The
1 some
men-of-
re busy
depths
s were
in the
blowing
in the
• -"ilr- /'♦♦^" ■''
up to
i
" The plague i "
-I'aijf .",1.
ill
I;:!
a •flvcnt Squire
»9
moorings," said the governor, looking at the approaching
vessel. " She seems to have had rough weather."
The breeze carried the brig within a mile of the beach, and
then almost diod away. Her speed gratlually lessened, and
she finally ai)peared to be doing little more than drift inshore
with tlic flow of the tide.
" Her people must be all asleep," said Victoire, who had
very long eyesight. " I can't make out anyone moving."
•' She will foul those trawlers if she keeps on," said the
governor.
Several of the small boats seemed to notice something
unusual about the brig, and began to close in round her. The
governor ordered the boatswain to pull within hailing distance,
and the rowers applied themselves to their oars accordingly.
The galley ai)proached the brig, and her name, Ji'/eur de Lys,
could be made out on the headboards. The boatswain hailed,
but there was no response to the summons.
"That's strange," remarked the governor. " Pull alongside
and hail again. If they don't answer, go on board." '
As there was no reply to the boatswain's call, the galley
went alongside the brig. The boatswain, followed by three
men, clambered up into the main-chains, and disappeared.
In two minutes there was heard a howl of dismay, the rush
of footsteps on the deck, and the plunge of three of the men
into the sea. The boatswain tumbled over the brig's side into
the galley, his eyes starting out of his head, and his f; e yellow
with fright.
" The plague ! " he gasp .
An epidemic of terror seemed to run through the crew of
the gallev Without waiting for orders th. instantly began to
row away )m the brig, despite the shouts of the sailors in the
water. 1 he governor was furious, and drew his sword.
" Stop, you scoundrels ! " he roared. " Back, and pick
these men up. Do you want me to have you all hung ? "
The panic-strickLU rowers, who had been pulling hard
against the governor's steering, recovered their heads. They
backed the galley, and the swimmers, puffing and blowing,
climbed into their seats ;igain. The governor, who, in the
absence of the harbour-mahier, had to assume the responsi-
bility for the quarantine arrangements oi the port, turned to
the boatswain.
1^' Who told you they ha..^ the plague on board ? " said he.
Your excellency, it is writ en in Dutch across a flag on the
deck, replied the boatswain, who was a Fleming from Ostend.
30
a fftciit SqiKie
" 5'"? ''°'' ''* ""'' °' ""^ "«»' ? "
think hl'isTld^™' ^-'''-^y-'he man a, the wheel. I
4r/S,er.;.L*;^^H,''se:r* "'■"-<' «"'^''"""
plaguTfl"" ""^ ""'-"•" ^'^"""«'^'' 'he boatswain, "but .he
The governor thought it necessary to remonstntP
doeto^one-'tx-JS,: :L^>:iuf ~ -
disinfectants." ^ ' ^"' '^^ provided with
s.llUirvl.'"saM thTcurt™' "^ ™^" "-^^ "''• -™ 'f he be
me." ' ^ ^"'^- ^ ^^^ "o one to accompany
"Accompany you?" cried Victoire "Vnn ..o
board, mon p^re ? " vit-ioire. Vou are going on
''Who else? "replied the curd.
^^'^^Zl^^l^^ - '^^ ^"■«- The cur.
;pg^p.oT;^u:;^La"fh^--^^^
anS r'acS^' r^W.h'''^ 'H^-^^"-- Then,
himself over the rail ^^rfH "^ 'he boat's crew, he swung
'he galley. Every tan loot?/",'!^- '^".'^"« '°^'°"'''i «
himsdf smaller in his own estiit ' "•'^'Shbour, and felt
with tears. estimation. Victoire's eyes filled
The curb's head appeared over the side of the br.s
sign^tVn oTpTsSeTe "s-o'd^'nS" 1' ^"^ ' ' ' ^ "°
know more, ke'ep a cordon ?o°u"d'th: tr^i ^V '"' "^
and attend to this man " ^" "^ ^'^' remain
;; We will fetch the doctor," said the governor
soontr th^Tettef"^^^^'^^^ ^"^ ^-^'" '^^^^ "he cur.. « The
stoKe^tr Tnlt wa^fbS ^^o If ^ !,^^T '^ ^~
brig tc, a mooring, and arran/.Hf^' ^^Tl ^^""^ ^° ^^^ the
her and keen craft .?. ™ nl tS'^°"- °^ '^'"^ ^° ^°^ ^°""d
T-iaif n„ 'u ", •"■^tancc tifi lurtner notice
Half an hour later the galley returned ^ the doctor.
J
H Ikent Squire
31
Victoire insisting upon remaining one of the party. Tlie cur^
awaited them on the Fleur de Lys.
" He is somewhat recovered," said he to the governor,
" and has spoken. There is no question of the plague, and
you need have no fear. Send half a dozen of your men, and
we'll get him down. He is the only person on board."
The assurance of the cure was received as gospel by the
sailors, and their terrors were at once dissipated. There was
a rush of volunteers up the sides of the brig, the gangway-
ladder was adjusted, and the governor and the doctor went
on deck. The cure took M. Daguerre aside, while the doctor
proceeded to the poop.
" A curious affair," said pbre Anselme. " This brig appears
to be on special service for the king. I think you had better
put her under seal, and get this young fellow to your house.
It is something of importance."
" A sailor ? " asked the governor, as they ascended the poop.
" No— but an officer. I don't know whether he is German
or French. Here he is."
The officer lay on the poop, his head supported by his
rolled-up cloak, which had been placed there by the cur^.
The doctor had just examined him, so far as opportunity
offered.
"I see no signs of infectious disease," said he. "He is
very weak, and there is fever. It is a case of collapse at
present. He has had a bad recent cut on the head."
The officer opened his eyes, and seemed about to speak.
" Don't trouble to talk, monsieur," said the cure. '' Time
for that later on. This is M. Daguerre, governor of Calais,
so you are in just the right hands. Have no anxiety."
The governor raised his hat.
"Permit me to add, monsieur," said he, " that your ship
will be placed under seal and guard on behalf of his majesty,
until you are able to make other arrangements winch may be
preferable to you. We propose removing you to my house,
which is very much at your service, to awak your recovery."
An expression of relief passed over the oflicer's features.
"You are very good, monsieur," said he, in an almost
niaudible voice, ai.d his eyes closed again.
" Here, Lestraade ! " said the governor to the boatswain.
"You and four men will remain here on guard till relieved.
Nothing must be touched, and no man must leave the deck.
I will send to seal the hatches and cabin as soon as I get
on shore. All craft must be warned off."
fe
If
3*
a lf?cnt Squire
«y^7 ^°°^' ■^°"'" excellency."
He was partly ™cSom„' in ann';'"'."''''' ''>' "'^ ''«"''■
was pacing. Viceoire TvaS herseJf of .h" T"' °' ""^'
lime to steal a glanep »hSi, i .! '"'^ f™™ "me to
the stranger's unSm hT,r r, ) '^ "Pressing pity for
of a weelT's growth! Ss fSu'rf!; ^.r"' "^'?'■''=• ""^ l«="-d
curiosity. The m1 Iv 1! '^ , l'' '^"'^eeding interest and
this tinL either Seep of ir:t«f°f' ''"' *' "««■•. ''^
the carriage, driven to *p „nL . [ "'""' ™= '"''"^d '■"»
by the do'ctir and his ass^^r °'' '°"'-"' """ P"' "■ ^^'d
CHAPTER V
BOW AMBROSE CWVNETT HAD A GOOD SLEEP
stetTM,''D*;ue??e*sil„:d' ff!!! '^f '""«<' '«">'een the
assi.ta'nt, and thelatter ra"rcd ''°"°' '" ^'""''^ ^^
h.m,""'s^i?krgo:tirwh:„'tf"''^"r'^^
-,.ore Of a Unguis^ thaH' afa^Tn^rie'^hre tj'h^";;
anfha^lr:-'^- ?he"St/°"' '^ftvrlJien'Jn'^Oel'.rn;
found no names °"°'' "" ""' "^ °^« them, and
SpgliThe. ^^■Xlel^^nrn-oln?..'^"'"''- '» ^ ^"'^^ '"
letteJrt a irVsTand' """' "" «°^"""' ''-*"8 "im two
the ™virs''a'',S'^g-rer 'Toi'e'ieu ' ""^ ^T'' 8'^""^ at
"Put them back "T-,M ,,,„™"''="'=''^'"'y dear governor!"
not be indiscreet" ' ''°™"°''' '"'■S'""8- " We must
JThe doctor replaced th,? lettpr- in th- -»=- •
•• ihc person addressed seems .,i:\.L^'^:^^^
Jse
every
le invalid
le doctor.
e of what
J time to
pity for
id beard
^rest and
fficer, [)y
fted into
t to bed
sen the
liss his
3 about
"You
:o help
e, and
dozen
srman,
n, and
and in
n two
ing at
lor ! "
must
)cket.
mett,
1
I
a fkcnt Squtre 33
and to be an officer recently in the army of M. de Vendome
m Spam. Anything else ? "
The governor was examining a belt which had been worn
by the patient. This proved to contain about eighty pistoles
m gold, but no letters. A packet was then taken from an
mner pocket of the vest and untied. A waterproof cover was
wrapped round two letters, which the governor turned over
and handed to the doctor.
" M. le cure was right, it seems. This affair is of con-
sequence. I rely on your absolute discretion, my dear doctor "
The doctor looked curiously at the covers of the two letters
rhey were addressed in French, one to the marquise de
Alaintenon, and the other to the marquis de Torcy, secretary
of state for foreign affairs. Both were sealed with the roval
arms of Spain. ^
"A special envoy, without doubt," said the governor, rubbina
his chm, and looking at the sleeping officer.
"A most extraordinary affair," remarked the doctor, making
up the packet again, and replacing it in the vest-pocket. " We
must pull him round, if it is only to hear his story. I will
look in again in a couple of hours. He will not wake for
some time, I fancy. When he does, give him a little soup."
"If you can conveniently remain here to-night I shall
esteem it a favour," said the governor.
" I daresay I can manage that," replied the doctor.
" Then you will sup with us ? "
" With pleasure."
The doctor took his departure, leaving his assistant to keep
an eye on the patient; and the governor, after locking up the
otticer s clothes, went down to his daughter. Victoire met him
with a large letter in her hand.
" This has just been left for you ; a gentleman brought it
He said he could not wait, as he was posting to Paris • but
he desired me to give you his compliments and those of Mr
bt. John, London."
"Did he mention his name?"
Victoire handed the governor a slip of paper on which was
written, " M. I'abb^ Gaultier du Fresne de Beauval "
" Do you know him ? " she said.
" By name only, as an agent of the English ministry. He
has a safe-conduct from M. de Torcy."
M. Daguerre opened the letter. It contained another, and
the governor uttered an exclamation of surprise whei he
glanced at the address.
34
a mcnt Squiie
"A curious coincidence ! " he muttered. " Look, mv deir < "
Ihe letter was addressed "To Ambrose Gwynetr^esqu re
Calat'"'"' °' '" "''"^"^"^y ^'^^ 8°^'-"°^ of the po'tof
his7apers!" '''' °'^''' "P'^'"''- ^^^ ^°""^ °"^ ^is name from
''ReaIlv1lSl!e!.n?'V'T''^-^'''"'':"' «""'i"i-^i"g the writing,
more ? "' ^ >nterestmg. Did you learn anything
1^ Yes, if I can rely on you to be discreet."
discreet"? ''rri'H^.H'^''''^' "^?"f ^°"^ ' When am I anythmg but
"T will ^1 ^ ^°"?S ''^y' ^'^^ justifiable indignation
on o\h"j" ;ZlT>' ''"' '' ^"" ^^'^" ^^ ^°°^ --«'^ -t to -iy
" For instance ? "
anlTf"r^^* "\''''y "^^dame la procureuse. To tell that
good lady somethmg as a profound secret always saves the
expense of h.nng the town-crier. This is not a ady's secre -
IS^lt^' ''''' """ ' '^^^" °"^ ''^' '^ - "-^'^"
^nllZTdiZ'To: '^ ^"^"^"^^'" ^^'^ ^''^'--' -tha
twJ^letterorwhlrh'^;!.'^ '^" "''^"'■^"^^' ^"d described the
iwo letters of which the otficer was the bearer but did nnt
"l have"fr?7 'V' "^y^h'^e ^bout the oihers ""'
he saiSTnHv ^^ ?n ^°''''" ^^•,^^'^^^" '-^"^ ^^'^^^^^^ ^^e case,"
i^ b'terSVoo litde ' "'"" ''^ ^''' ' ^'"'^ ^^^ ^^^ --
''Tlnnf^'J'^''^ ?^ °5'^^ '^"^^ ^^ '^ Misdricorde."
rPfnm tf .K '^^e^-do whatever is necessary. Now I must
return to the port and put seals on the brig."
M. Daguerre went off, leaving Victoire to carrv nut 1 1. .
arrangements suggested, which she d.d wfth a good deV o
a manner ""''" "^°" '*^''' ^""^^ *" ^^ unexpected
H Ikent Squire
nigh!?' tidTe'^'l^'Te \T ™'^/°^ f™'^' -i^y' -^
al^ne on tha. b.,;. He is"l, ^.^h^rfar ^ "een, if he was
nourishmeit ,-n eadiness ,Thl^ 'f"'i.n'^ P/epared some
""0 his fo™er profoS Imbl'™""^' •"" "^ ^™^ »«»'"
nexfrnomin'r """" '"'° '"' '°°™ "'"'"' "'"^ °'"«'' *'=
;;No change?" he said to the sister.
not mredrcr;;:id„H,T' *'^' "= '■^' "° f-"- «= "-
»»5*-°"p~^^^^^ His e,es,
perfe«r;PaS„"'Frcr ' ™ "'"" """S'^-" -'d he, in
govetLrcan^tlh'tdsir" ™' *^ '""*"• -" '^^
"l^leTot'noSnS^noTl t«'-' -""--." -id he.
fatigue yourself w™h talking »' '"^ °^ J""'' ""'^ '^° "<"
" Is"'m,nr!ir •""'>'■ J'™"'™"-' This house ?••
ca^ "nryo';;?'^::rHu„',hrs?rrn'.p-^«"-'^>^~ -^
^JrzT^„n'lS'nl'°^°,?'"°"^i™'- A"d the brig
" Af i ' " ^ '^^^^ recollect nndinc mvsclf ^ "
seai.^;:^ r^oTC/ri r"^^^"^r^'^ '^^ -^^
in bed." ^ ^^^////^«-let us see if you can sit up
cli.sporedtrhis""up''S' "P '".-^ ^'?'"'^ P-'^'-' -d
sister. P ''"'' ''" ^^"^>ty >vhich delighted the
T^'^c" ^^l^J'"^f ^°'T '^^^ ^«-"'" -'d she.
stubble, and smned ""^ °'''' ^'' ^•^'"' ^^^'^ ^is growth of
.« v4 T"^'^'''''* ^ "'"'* ^°°^ ''^" '-appalling rnffinn." he s-^id
m^r^:^. 'Srcun;s;4cSlS°^^^°-"^ '" -^ P--al
t*^ 'ny toilet c>f hit- '' Prevented proper attention
36
B ment Squire
At this moment the doctor entered.
" Aha ! " said he, " this is famous. Monsieur has had a
nice httle nap."
"M. Vidal insisted on your sleeping the sleep of Barbarossa
if necessary," said the governor, introducing the doctor.
" How long have I been asleep ? " asked the officer.
"About forty hours, monsieur," replied the sister, quite
proud of this prodigious feat of somnolence on the iDart of
her patient.
" The fever is gone, and the pulse is good," said the doctor,
after the usual routuie of examination. " Do you feel any
vertigo, monsieur?"
" None, monsieur."
"You have been excessively weakened. What has been
wrong lately ? "
" About a fortnight ago I lost a good deal of blood from a
cut on the head, which made me unconscious for an hour or
more. After that I had little or no sleep for I suppose ten
days, and continuous fatigue."
" You have had no illness, strictly speaking ? "
" None whatever."
"Then I need ask no more questions at present. You
only require rest, food and sleep— take them."
" I must travel to Paris, monsieur, at once."
" Good Lord ! " said the doctor, laughing. « Do you want
me^to begin to talk about a strait-waistcoat?"
"I can lie in a carriage, monsieur; the matter is urgent
i^y the way," and the officer gave a sudden start, " my letters '
Are they ? "
" Pertectly safe, monsieur," said the governor, bowing. "It
was desirable, of course, on your own account, to try and
determine your identity by means of your papers. They have
Kot left thi: ,m, and are under lock and key," and the
governor poi-.^ed to the cabinet in which he had placed the
ofhcer's clothes after their examination by himself and the
doctor. "Your belt is with them."
"You relieve me greatly," replied the officer. "But still
doctor, I mu t proceed on my journey." '
"Impossible, monsieur. Another return of fever, and vou
might not reach Paris alive."
"Cannot your despatches be forwarded, monsieur?" asked
the governor.
"'i hey require personal explanation, which I alone can give
1 would rather avoid asking for someone to come to me from
t
i
I
I
been
You
f
n IJ^cnt Squire 37
Paris if it is at all possible. ^Vhat is the best you can promise
nie, doctor?" i- ■<-
The doctor scratched his cheek, and felt the patient's pulse
again. ^ k"<o._
" If you will lie on your back for another tvventv-four hours
and rest quietly the day after that, I may consent to your then
making a start in a suitably prepared carnage. Of course, you
must travel slowly." -^
" I suppose I must submit," said the officer ruefully " But
It seems monstrous to be shelved in this way for nothing at
ali.^ I assure you I only feel a little flabby."
"That may be; but you have only escaped brain-fever
by a miracle. Reconcile yourself to circumstances, monsieur •
you might be worse off, I can tell you." '
"It is not for want of recognition of your extreme goodness
M. le gouverneur," said the officer. " But I have trespassed
upon that already, and "
" Not a word, monsieur. Make yourself comfortable and
regain your strength-that is your duty at present, both to
his majesty (if I am not indiscreet) and your host. And now
?eturr"''' ^° ^""^^ ^^^ ^^^^ '^P"''' °^ y°" °" ™>'
The governor shook hands with his guest and the doctor
and left the room. The nurse was duly instructed as to the
proper dietary for the day, and the doctor in his turn took
his departure He found the governor waiting at the foot of
the stairs with Victoire.
"I>octor," said he, "I have a letter for our friend upstairs-
left yesterday by a messenger from England. Is he to have
" Does he expect it ? "
"Not that I know of"
" Has he asked for any letter ? "
" Apparently not."
t^rj^Y^KT^- *^ ^'1! ^^'' ^''^"'"S- If 't is good news, it will
keep; If bad, it will only worry him and Aiow him back "
And the doctor went off.
^';How is the patient?" asked Victoire of her fluher.
the Tr^r. Tl u^ ^"' ^^"P ^'^ ^^-^"^ t^-d'-^y; to-morrow
emert^^^^ '^ "^^ ^^"^^ ^--- ^^ -" ^ave to
totil^^ ^^ ^ gentleman?" questioned Victoire, in a dubious
" Assuredly—one of distinction, if I mistake not. A tough
1 1
38
B Ikent Squire
1^ 'i
customer in other respects, or he would not be alive Mvf
He speaks French perfectly, whatever nationality he may
"That is lucky," said Victoire, whose linguistic studies had
Deen confined to the dead languages, as was usual with well-
educated women at that period. " I suppose he is a friend
to the cause of the chevalier de St. George-no Englishmen
come to France now who are not."
"We shall no doubt hear all about that in time The
mam thmg now is to feed him well, and leave him alone "
"You are horribly practical and commonplace," said
^^^loncpoutm^, as she went off about her domestic duties
Iheofficer slept, with the exception of his meal-times, "the
greater part of the day. In the evening M. Daguerre returned,
and found the nurse and the patient wrangling with a good
deal of vigour. ^ o &
'' Monsieur insists upon writing a letter," complained the
sister. I am sur you will say he ought to wait for the
doctor's sanction."
"And I, monsieur, am sure you will say that these pre-
cautions on my account are a little ridiculous. If it were not
for the very admirable persistence with which this lady remains
m the room, and also keeps the key of that wardrobe in her
pocket, I should get up and dress."
trium ha ^" ^^ Souverneur who has the key," said the sister
'' Mea cu//>a," said the governor, laughing. "But before
you write, monsieur, I had better hand you a letter which has
arrived for you from England."
" From England ! " cried the officer.
;* That is, if we rightly take you to be M. Ambrose Gwynett."
Ihat is my name, monsieur."
'Hie governor produced the letter, and handed it to the
otticer.
" Under cover from M. St. John," said he, dropping his
voice so that the remark did not reach the sister
TheofTficer tore open the letter, and devoured its contents
with an eagerness which brought a quiet smile to the face of
the governor.
"I trust you have nothing but good news, monsieur," he
remarked, from the depths of his easy-chair.
"A!! is well, I thank you. Curiously enough, my letter
refers to a matter in which I may possibly find you able to
give me a little assistance."
The
said
H IRent Squire 39
I' That will give me great pleasure, monsieur. What is it ? "
•'Some friends of mine are endeavouring to trace a lost
relative who, when last seen, was proposing to travel from
England mto France. May I ask how long you have held
your present post, monsieur?"
" Twelve years."
" Ah ! that is unfortunate."
" When did your friend disai)pear ? "
^'^ In 1694. Have any of your staff been here so long ? "
"I thmk not. But M. !e procureur du roi and the chief
of police are senior to myself by half a dozen years. Either
luight assist you."
" 1 shall be extremely glad of your introduction and good
oltices with these gentlemen."
" They are quite at your service, monsieur."
"I will avail myself of them the moment I am at liberty—
that IS, after my commission is executed, which I hope will be
in three days at farthest."
"Gently, my friend, gently— we are not out of the wood
yet.
" Anqther night's rest, and I shall be perfectly well, I assure
you. A propos, I will postpone my intended letter till I
have had the opportunity of consulting the gentlemen you
mentioned just now." ^
" I think you are wise, monsieur," said the governor, who
usually found himself very much at a loss with a pen in his
hand, and naturally concluded that letter-writing involved a
similar mental strain upon other people. "And now
monsieur, I will retire, or the doctor will be scolding me for
fatiguing you. Ah ! here he is."
The doctor entered the room, and the patient presented
his wrist secundum artem.
" Doctor," said he, " I defy you to invent any reason for
keeping me a prisoner after to-day."
''Peste! my good sir, you forget I have a bill to make up
\ ou have no idea how that stimulates a defective imagination
But nevertheless, I admit you have got on marvellously so
far. If you will not do anything idiotic to-morrow, I think
you will be fit to do anything sensible the day after "
''That is something to be thankful for," said the officer
with a resigned air. "At the same time, messieurs, I owe
you both a thousand apologies for my impatience, and bee
you to accept them. And mademoiselle also," he added
smiling at the sister. '
40
a lient Squire
"Monsieur has been only moderately unreasonable," re-
marked the sister, in a judicial tone.
"Good Lord ! " said the doctor philosophically, " what more
could any man desire to be said of him? Good evening
monsieur; come, M. le gouverneur, or I shall have yoii
gossiping with my patient all night."
The two gentlemen went off, and the officer, after taking
a light supper, fell asleep again for the night.
The next morning he awoke early, felt very much himself
again, and made an excellent breakfar-t. The doctor after
seeing him, made no further difficulty about his leaving his
room, and gave a conditional assent to his setting out on his
journey the following day. This put the officer in excellent
spirits. He asked for the attendance of a barber, whose
razor, brush, and comb effected a change in his appearance
which took the sister's breath away, and then rose. The
governor's valet, who had carefully gone over the officer's
clothes the previous day, and put them into presentable order
helped him to dress, and then left him to fetch the governor. '
The latter opened his eyes when he entered the bedroom
and found his guest waiting in readiness to descend.
''Fardieuf" he said to himself. "Here is a young fellow
to whom M. de Lavalaye would object rather strongly, if I
mistake not. It is perhaps lucky he is in such a hurry to
get away. And how do you find yourself to-day, monsieur ? "
he asked aloud.
" Very well indeed," replied the officer heartily. "Certainly
I have a little strength to make up yet, but that is all. I am
quite at your service."
"Come along, then," said the governor. "But you must
take my arm till we are safely downstairs. It would be
humihating to break your neck on dry land, after escaping
heaven knows what on the ocean." ^
The pair descended the wide fourteenth-century staircase
and the governor led the way to the salon, Victoire was
sitting on a low chair at the window, and rose as the two gentle-
men entered.
" My dear, let me present to you the sieur Ambrose Gwynett
our guest. Monsieur, this is my only child, Victoire." '
The officer responded with a bow worthy of St. James's
or Versailles. Victoire curtsied before looking up. When
she did so, her expression of astonishment was so ohyiou-s
that the governor could not forbear to smile.
"Just as I expected," he chuckled ruefully to himself.
a Ikent Squire
41
re-
taking
CHAPTER VI
HOW MADEMOISELLE DAGUERPE PLAYED THE HOSTESS
Maukmoiselle Victoire's range of acquaintance amongst
the opposite sex was perhaps as extensive as circumstances
permitted— that is to say, she had had the opportunity of
seeing nearly all the young men who belonged to the best
available society of Calais and the district around. These
comprised the officers of the garrison, the local seigneurs,
the 'noblesse of the robe' of Picardy, and an occasional
visitor from the court coming to the neighbourhood on business
or pleasure. But she had never encountered so impressive
a representative of the masculine gender as the person who
now stood before her.
Ambrose Gwynett was rather more than six feet in height
and of breadth to match, wit^i a face and figure which had
earned for him in three countries the sobriquet— borne thirty
years earlier by John Churchill— of 'the handsome Enghsh-
man.' His bearing combined the alert vigour of the soldier
with the grace and dignity of the old noblesse, the decision
and self-reliance of the commander of armed men with the
politeness and tact of the habitue of royal palaces. The
two centuries preceding the Georgian era were remarkable
for the early age at which men frequently became prominent
in war, pohtics, and society, and the governor s guest seemed
to be a notable illustration of this characteristic of the period.
It was evident that he coLld not be more than twenty-four
or twenty-five years of age; nevertheless his manner suggested
the experience and formed mind of a man who had held his
own in the world for a dozen years or more. It may be added
that the officer's dress, in spite of the somewhat detrimental
effect of his recent adventures, was quite in keeping with his
personal appearance. There was, therefore, som? excuse for
Victoire's non-recognition of the dilapidated scarecrow, huddled
up in a cloak, who had been hoisted out of the Fkiir de Lys
into her father's galley three days before. A second or
two passed before she had sufficiently recovered from her
surprise to speak, and Gwynett was the first to respond to
the introduction.
.,»„.„ .,,._..av.ic, atti--! ne, i t^aiiijui iiiiu wurcis to express
my gratitude for the kindness and care which I have received
at the hands of M. le gouverneur and yourself, and to which
4a
H ikcnt Squtce
111 all probability 1 owe my life. I can only hope that I may
sonie day have tlie opportunity of making a return, however
madequate, for .'-e obligation you have conferred upon me "
Victoire regamed her usual self-possession, and received
C.wynetts acknowledgments with due decorum and a little
nutter of pleasure.
" Monsieur is very welcome to any little hospitality we may
have had the happiness of offering him," said she. "I hone
monsieur finds himself (juite recovered ? "
"If he says yes, don't believe him," said the governor
wheeling a large fauteuil towards the window. " Be seated'
monsieur, and do not let my daughter tire you to death with
her chatter. For myself, I have to go to the port, and must
ask you to excuse me— we are both soldiers, monsieur, and
know what duty means. 1 shall have the pleasure of rejoinin'-
you at luncheon." "
" I shall be unhappy, monsieur, if in any way you permit me
to mterfere with your arranjiements, or those of mademoiselle.
1 have sulhciently trespassed ui)on your consideration already."
On the contrary, monsieur. We only regret that your
haste to depart threatens to depr . e us so soon of your society "
"Assuredly, monsieur," added Victoire, in a tone which
miparted to these little amenities a flavour of sincerity suffi-
ciently distinct to put the subject of them quite at his ease
Ihe governor withdrew, and Victoire provided herself with
some mdefimte kind of fancy-work wherewith to occupy herself
in the intervals of conversation. But after a few common-
places, intended on her part to lead up to a little catechising
of her companion on the subject of his recent adventures
the interview was suddenly interrupted by a peremptory demand
lor Victoire's presence in the kitchen department. Some
domestic contretemps in this region detained her till lunch
was ready, and Gwynett occupied himself in the meanwhile
with some books and a chart of the coast which he found on
the table of the salon.
Victoire's return was followed a few minutes afterwards by
that of the governor, who apologised profusely for the un-
avoidable neglect with which his guest had been treated durine
the morning. °
"But I hope, monsieur," said he, as they sat down to
lunch, " that you will return good for evil by telling us how
you came to arrive at Calais under such unusual circum-
stances—that is, if my daughter has not already asked you
the same question." '
i may
hope
H ikciit Squire
43
1 have not liad the chance," said Victoire, smiUng at
Owynctt, who was ungallant enough to congratulate himself
upon having escaped the necessity of saying the same thincs
twice over. *
"Hitherto, monsieur," proceeded the governor, "we have
desired above all things not to fatigue you with unnecessary
conversation, liut I assure you I have been overwh'.med
witn inquiries about the Flmr de Lys and her crew, which
1 have of course been unable to answer."
Gwynett paused a moment before reply l^u,^
"As a matter of fact, monsieur, I find myself a little in
a difficulty. A certain commission with which I have been
charged, and the nature of the voyage I have made in con-
nection with it, require me to make my report in the first
instance to the persons to whom I am accredited ; un*! I am
not quite sure how far etiquette will permit me to sa' an v chine
about It beforehand." ' ^
Vif.Louc looked a whole volume of disappointment ; but the
gov-rnor interposed with a prompt approval of his guest's
res ;n i\ ^
" My dear M. Gwynett, you are perfectly right, and you
must vir.'^n an indiscretion on my part, committed in
Ignorance of the circumstances."
"You set me at iiiy ease, monsieur. I was afraid my
reticence would appear rather absurd, the more especially as
there IS nothing to conceal. But there is no reason why you
should not hear how I came to be found in such an uncom-
fortable plight."
"Monsieur will interest us very much by anything he is at
liberty to tell us," said Victoire, beginning to be hopeful
again. o o f
"In the first place, mademoiselle, there was nothing but
ill-Iuck on our brig after the voyage was fairly commenced.
We had very rough weather, and several of us were hurt by
falling spars and rigging. All on board, except one seaman
and myself, were eventually either swept overboard or died of
injuries received in the storm. I was badly cut on the head
and lost so much blood that I could scarcely stand for a week
otherwise, I assure you, I should not have cut such a
ridiculous figure as I did when your galley came upon the
scene." ^ j f
This vievr of the case made Victoire open her eyes.
" But monsieur must have had frightful labour to navigate
that ship all alone— for you were alone, surely?"
44
a Ikent Squire
" Yes ; my only surviving
days before I reached Calais.
companion died two or three
■ e . ^ . - ^^ ^^^ been very ill— dvins
m fact— for more than a week before that."
" And of course unable to help you at all ? "
" Entirely You see, that prevented my getting any sleep
Of course, that is a common thing on a campaign, and one
doesn't mmd a week or so of it. But beyond that i^ is really
very fatigumg, if one is weakened to start with "
r.l?r!'f hu"^ - " '""i^ ^^^ governor, who had a most religious
regard for the soundness of his nightly slumbers, "that is
enough to account for anything. And how did you succeed
m making port, monsieur ? " ^ =>uLctta
"Partly by good weather and partly by sheer luck. The
wind was favourable, and all I had to do was to see I did not
run ashore till I got opposite Calais. After that, you probably
know more about my proceedings than I do, for I confess I
fhetrig'?"''^ '^°"* '^' '"""''• ^^'^''■^ ^'^ y°" b^^^d
"About a mile from shore. You we- running straight for
a fleet of trawlers, and that attracted our attention. But you
frightened our men to death when they climbed on deck."
How was that?"
'•They read the word ' plague ' on the flag."
True— I quite forgot I had left that flag
rather a serious oversight."
" What did it mean, monsieur ? " asked Victoire
Mademoiselle, it was a little ruse. I had a visit from a
Dutch cruiser, and put that out to scare them away. Un-
fortunately, it only had the effect of inducing them to tow tho
Dng, instead of sending a prize-crew on board."
^'1 But you wrote ' help ' on the flag as well ? "
"That was to give an air of genuineness to
knew they wouldn't come, all the same."
" Then why did they tow you ? "
"Ju, *»^^ ^^^ ^"S as a prize to Ostend
probably."
" In spite of the plague ? "
"Oh ! yes. They would probably have scuttled her above
iTeicT T!r.'n /h''"^ ^''n'."" ^'" ^i^'"f^^^^'-^ ^y the sea for a few
her again/' ^ ^^^^"""^ '^^ *'°'^'' ^"^ '^^^^^^
'^But how did you part company?"
Gwynett narrated the circumstances with which the reader
has been made acquainted, to the great interest of the
there. It was
the thing. I
or Antwerp,
.':
a Ikent Squire
45
i
povcrnor, who had been an artillery officer himself when on
active service.
" That must have been a clever shot of yours," said he.
"A pure chance, M. le gouverneur. In fact, I don't know
what happened. The rudder might have been hit, or the wheel
dismounted, or the chains carried away — any of these things
would have stopped the steering for ten minutes. In that
time the fog had come up, and I was safe. But for the fog
the risk would not have been worth running. They could
have disabled the brig quite easily if they had been able to
see her."
After some further chat over the minor incidents of the
voyage, the luncheon was brought to a close, and the
governor's daughter resumed the task of entertaining
(iwynett until the evening. A certain curiosity anent the
guest's feminine correspondent naturally resulted in Victoire's
manoeuvring the conversation a the direction of this interest-
ing subject.
"You are still determined to leave us, monsieur?" she
asked, after a little preliminary beating about the bush,
" It is imperative, mademoiselle, much as I regret terminating
a visit which has laid me U!, er such pleasant obligations."
" I am afraid your correspondence has altered your arrange-
ments. You have had letters from England, I think my
father said ? "
" On the contrary, mademoiselle, I was bound to continue
my journey to Paris in any case. But the letter you mention
has made it probable that I shall have to return here, on
some business in which M. Daguerre has kindly offered his
assistance."
"Your friends were, of course, aware of your intended
passage through Calais ? The letter might easily have missed
you."
" I had mentioned that I hoped to be here shortly. I have
been more than two years away from England."
" Your family will be anxious to see you again."
" I have no relatives, mademoiselle, except one, an uncle.
He lives in Munich."
Victoire decided that this was an important step gained
in the catechism.
"We thought it was possibly your mother or your sister
v.'ho wrote, she said, with extreme innocence of tone and
countenance.
"I am unfortunately an only child, mademoiselle, and
If
46
H ftent SQufrc
!M
Both died in my
I knew little of my father and mother,
m fancy. '
nf Th? .^^f^e'^ent touched a sympathetic chord in the heart
hefn^ . '''T'-''^° ^"^ ^^''^^y 8--^"^ a Jong way toward
fam.hes who are ready to poison each other daily!" '
Ihere may be something in that," said Gwynett, laughing
At the same time, I would like to run the risk f I ronM"
I have found life now and then rather solitary "' '^*
Victoire decided to hazard a bold stroke.
be a beginningT"'''"' ^'"^ '"'"^ '" ^"^ ^°"^^^' ^"^ that will
fhinJ.n!?r°^ '''^^°"* ^^'^ *'°P^' mademoiselle," said Gwynett
thinkmg It was gettmg time to be explicit gwynett,
nf JTuf ^'^P^^i^"''^^ ^ J'"Je shock, which had the effect
of enhghtenmg her somewhat as to Jhe feelingsw th w£ch
she had come to regard her companion. ^
exne^Tn'^h'' P^^^j^'y '^o^e than a hope-perhaps an
expect, on, she said, lookmg away from Gwynett.
1 hat IS true, mademoiselle."
j^.^ If monsieur is betrothed, he will permit me to felicitate
;' You are exceedingly kind, mademoiselle."
'' MTderisellTis'quircS '' "°"'^"'^ — pondent."
''^:s^Sl:"^"^'^''^^^'°"^^°-^^"
■ X'f ""^ "^T.l °" ''''^^ her fancy-work for a few moments
m SI ence while Gwynett ungallantly forgot all about her
and travelled m thought to the Cottage at Wray Manor
Ihen She took up the ball again. ^
One hears much of the beauty of the English ladies "
I can assure you, mademoiselle, I hav never been in
any country where there were not beautiful w >men ''
own cl";:;r;n."° '°"'^ p"'^" ^'^ ^^^^^ ^^^^-^^y of his
" Perhaps that is natural, mademoiselle."
ctoire nirl-f>H nn « >.,„] ...1 • 1 ■ , - .,
it to her basketr "^ " """' "^"^ '^'^^"' ^"^ '^''^'^'^
a IRent SQulre 47
"Monsieur's fiancee is probably an example of English
beauty, she said, with her eyes fixed on her work
1 here was a little flutter in the voice, which made itself
intelligible to Gwynett just as he was opening his mouth to
conhrm Victoire's supposition, and he stopped as if a eulf
yawned suddenly in front of him.
"The deuce!" he said to himself. "My soup will be
disagreeing with me, if I don't take care."
He paused a moment, and replied in a serious tone,
'She has a very comfortable appearance, mademoiselle."
Victoires face brightened. This verdict seemed rather to
exclude the unduly romantic, and anything was better than a
mental comparison by which she herself might suffer She
rose, and after a little further chat in a more cheerful tone
left the room. As she did so, M. Daguerre entered, and
came forward to Gwynett.
"Your travelling-carriage will be ready for you in the
morning, monsieur," said he. "I have seen to it myself
Ihat is, if you are able to use it— I am unkind enough to
nope the contrary." ^
Gwynett expressed his thanks for the trouble which had
been taken, and his impression that he would be quite readv
to travel on the morrow. '
"I have also been making some inquiries for you." nro-
j-eeded the governor. « M. le procureur du roi is absent on
business, but the prefect of police will be happy to place
himself at your disposal whenever you choose, and give vou
any assistance in his power." ^ ^
f J' "^rf '"^ ^/'^'''h^' '"^^'^fcd to you, monsieur. On my return
irom 1 aris I will go into the matter at once."
1, ""^^r'^i,?^ '''^'^ ^'''■>°" *^ ^"^l"""*^ at Paris also. Do you
know M. d'Argenson ? " ^
"Not at all."
" Or M. de Torcy ? »
" I have to see him."
" He will help you. The Colberts arc all great friends of
mention ^Lnf ^f ^^"?.^'"^'"'- I "^ay without indiscretion
tTe' th'n fSd^hlp ""'"^^ ^'" ^'^"'y ^^ -^^^^ by - <=^--
"If you see M. de Torcy, you will also probably see his
nephew and chief secretary, M. Rcn6 de Lava!aye~a d'Estr^es!
M
48
a ITicnt Sqiiite
a'^ndTXg" """'''' '"^" --S^d between .ha. gen.leman
let me know when the ceremony is about to take d ace »
,;Noth,ng wm give me greater pleasure, monsfeur "'^
victoire s afiections are somewhat at lar^re " ^inoiseiic
■
CHAPTER VII
AT VERSAILLES
b m"Xu«^ 't'V '''" '"'I ---n'edTo'hS
We-oufc^rautn^-^^^^^^^^^
noraLXSre^te^kl^r" '^ ^"' '» ^ ^InlXul
4L'tt rau&e t r Hr„ro7 th?S.e^rttaS"'
a^ttf^^'s-^S
enl n™; whe'reThad^eft^TK'' '^'^'" *,-= P"-'P>'
before mounti^l. '» ad^se 'ht '.ru'prwtl^e dot^S'^he
Jeetd^ro^-^Vh^l'te^^^^^^
SL^rSS 3 oSS^ ^S; th^ -i-
I do not know -he name, raadame," he was saying, i„
I
a ment Squire 49
reply to some question which Gwynett had not heard " Are
you quite sure he has arrived ? " • ^ic
"He was to have left Calais two or three days since "
replied the lady, in a musical voice, and with the slightest
possible Spanisn accent. ^
AuS'^'^^V ^ ^t""'^. f n^ething of that a few minutes ago.
Ah! as he caught sight of Gwynett, "this is the gentleman
Pardon, monsieur, but I believe this lady is inquiring for vou "
Gwynett was rather surprised, but came forward to the off
side of the carriage with his bridle over his arm, and raised
his hat to the occupant. He was still more surprised when
the lady turned her face towards him. She was a young
woman of perhaps twenty-two or twenty-three years of age
distinguished by a beauty positively startling to Gwynett who'
had seen not a few beautiful women in his travels and had
hitherto flattered himself that his ^a^cee had very few rivals
between the Danube and the Thames. But the type in this
case was totally different, and partook partly of the Tuscan
and partly of the Provensal, combining the oval majesty of
the one with the grace and vivacity of the other.
"What can I do for you, madame?" asked Gwynett, as he
came in front of the carriage. '
"A thousand pardons, monsieur-it is a mistake," replied
the lady, with a ravishing smile of apology, and a glance of
interest at Gwynett's herculean propordons « I am expecting
a relative to arrive at Versailles from Calais, and this gentleman
thought that you were he." scmicman
" Permit me, madame, to regret that he is in error." reolied
Gwynett, accompanying the compliment with a bow as he
prepared to get into the saddle.
. "Will you descend, madame?" asked the official. "It
IS possible that your relative is in the palace already. I wi.l
"I think I will," said the lady, rising from her seat.
Lin . Ik'^^u''^ ^^'^ '^'^y^'^ ^"to the courtyard, came
?o1fn7ro H '^' v^'"'' ^^ l^' ^^"'^g^- The official' turn" d
round to drive ,t away, when one of the horses, which had
already been giving the coachman some trouble, took fright
rn."ZV""^"''y' T^.^''^'^ ^'' companion. ' n anX;
;!?!!!J,?!.^-^43 had been driven against the curbstone and
..^..ntxy uvcrturncd, while the two horses lay on their sides
,iH^ ^,J\'" ^•'•ect.ons. The lady had been flung on the
5ide walk, between the horses' feet and the door of the porter'^
50
a Ikent Squire
lodge, which at this moment was closed. The official was
pinned ^'gainst the lodge wall by the back of the overturned
carriage, and the coachman lay on his face in the roadway
apparently stunned.
Gwynett had one foot in the stirrup when he heard the
crash of the overturn and looked round. The lady could only
be reached by climbing either over the wreck of the carriage
or over the plunging bodies of the liorses. He saiv that an
instant':^ loss of time might be fai:;!, e\en if it were not too
late already. His saddle, luckily, was a S ravelling oni . yith the
usual pistol-holster on each r.ide, an(' the butts i-rotr; dmg. It
was the v/ork of a second to draw both weapcms, to c;ck, and
to fire into the heads of the two stri.tieling animals. Thanks
to the punctiliousness of Gwynett's hotel people, each pistol
was properiv loaded anvl primed, and both shots were fatal.
The two horses were killed instantly, but Gv/ynett's heart
came into his mouth as he saw a hoof shoot past the lady's
head and strikt the oaken door with a blow rhit shook the very
roof of the lodge. He was b> h;r side al a bound, and raised
her head on his knee just as i:he oilficiai released himself and
iiDstened forward. The lady opened her eyes, smiled, and
)>at \tp.
"Thank you very much," she said, as if nothing had
happened. " Your hand, monsieur, if you will be so good."
The official, who had scarcely recovered his breath, raised
her to her feet, and looked at her speechlessly. Gwynett
turned towards the door, where a lock of long hair had been
cut off by the horse's shoe and driven into the wood of the
oaken panel.
"You have had a miraculous escape, madame," said he,
handing the lady her hat, which was cut through the brim.
" Thanks to your promptitude, monsieur."
"Hardly, madame. I was not in time to prevent that,''
and Gwynett pointed to the door. " How you were not
killed by that last kick I cannot imagine."
The lady put up her hand to her head, and discovered the
loss of half her back hair.
" That was an abominable animal," she said ruefully.
" I hope you have sustained no other injury, madame."
" I feel none, I thank you. But I must decidedly go indoors
and get myself repaired. Where is the coachman ? "
This functionary was sitting in the rouuway, jUSt feeoverrrig
consciousness, and very much shaken, but otherwise none the
worie for his fall. He got up and approached his mistress.
H Ikent Squtre
SI
"See to all this," said the lady, pointing to the horses.
"The carriage had better be taken back to Marly. I shall
return with inadame de Ventadour."
The coachman bowed, and went off in search of assistance
at the stables. The lady turned to Gvvynett, and looked at
him with a certain earnestness.
"Monsieur," she said, in a voice full of feeling, "accept
my thanks. If I escaped one kick, I should not have escaped
the next. When I saw those brutes with all their legs in
the air, I knew you could not reach me, and gave myself ud
for lost." ^
"It was a lucky chance that the pistols in my holsters
were loaded, madame. I trust that you will experience no
further inconvenience." Gwynett bowed, and raised his hat
in token of withdrawal.
The lady curtsied, and placed her hand on the arm of the
official, who was standing by.
" I am the comtesse de Valincour, monsieur," she said. " I
am at Marly, and I hope we may meet again."
The palace of Marly was occupied by the dauphin, the
due de Bourgogne, and Gwynett understood that his inter-
locutor was in the household of the prince.
" Under happier auspices, I trust, madame," said he.
" Adieu, monsieur, and au revoir, I hope."
" You confer a great favour on me, madame."
The comtesse went away with the official, and Gwynett rode
off into the town. The coachman presently returned with
a couple of stablemen and hurdles, and began to remove the
dead horses.
While this was being done, two gentlemen came up and
stopped to watch the proceedings. One of these was the
abbe Dubois, formerly tutor to the due de Chartres (now the
due d'Orleans), and at present his factotum and general
ill-adviser in chief. If the reader requires a description of
hmi, he may learn from the famous ' Memoirs ' of St. Simon
that the abbe was " a little, pitiful, wizened, herring-gutted
man, flaxen wig, weazel's face, brightened by some intellect."
"The most impudent deceit had become natural to him, and
was concealed under an air that was simple, upright, sincere,
often bashful." His companion was the abb^ Gaultier.
"Hallo! Pierre," exclaimed the latter, addressing the
^-uttv-nmaii, wuui. 15 au tiiis r
The coachman looked up, and made a very humble salute.
"Pardon, M. I'abb^," said he. "It is so many years since
52
B Ikent Squire
ill
you
you
at the chateau de
for the moment.
Beauval that I did
We have had an
we have seen
not recognise
accident."
" So I see. Whom were you driving ? "
" Madame la comtesse, monsieur."
" Your sister, abbe ? " asked Dubois.
" I suppose so. Where is she, Pierre ? "
*' She has retired into the palace, monsieur, but not seriously
hurt, I believe."
" What has happened ? "
The coachman briefly narrated the circumstances of the
accident, and indicated the direction taken by the comtesse
and her escort.
" Madame came here to inquire for you, I believe, M. I'abbd."
Gaultier turned to Dubois.
" You will excuse me, my dear abbd, I am sure. I was not
aware my sister had left Languedoc."
" Assuredly," said Dubois. " If the comtesse does me the
honour to recollect that I met her once or twice at Madrid
when the duke was in Spain, please present my respectful
homage to her."
" With pleasure." And Gaultier wtnt off.
Dubois stood looking at the men engaged with the dead
horses, and cogitating.
" What mischief is in the wind now ? " he queried to himself.
" Madame la comtesse is not here for nothing. If madame
des Ursins had not taken time by the forelock and kicked my
estimable pupil back from Madrid to the Palais-Royal, she
would have bewitched him like Amelot and d'Estrees and the
others. Lucky for la Parab^re. She would have been ex-
tinguished in a snap of the finger. This is a Marly equipage,
surely ? "
The abb^ scrutinised the arms on the panels, and then said
to the coachman,
" They won't thank you for this at Marly, my friend ? "
" It is a great misfortune, monsieur," said Pierre dolefully.
" Monseigneur is very particular about the horses. Our first
drive, as it happen?."
" Ah ? "
"You see, monsieur," proceeded Pierre, with a provincial
readiness to gossip which Dubois found convenient, "although
madame has been in office a week, she has been too busy to
drive out. To-day, hearing that M. I'abb^ Gaultier had arrived
from England "
a 1?ent Squire
53
" The duties of office are no doubt very exacting," put in the
abb^, wlio never wasted time.
"Madame is already a great favourite with madame la
dauphine," said Pierre proudly, as he returned to his colleagues.
" Peste I " thought the abb^, " la Valincour a lady-in-waiting
at Marly ! Now who managed that ? Not the duke, or I
should have heard. Not d'Estr^es, surely — she snubbed him
too hard at Madrid. Possibly Amelot. It would be well to
find out."
The abb^ looked thoughtfully at the coachman and his
assistants, who, after clearing away the traces of the recent
incident, were now taking away the horses and the equipage
to the stables.
" I wonder," he said to himself as he walked off, " whether
the comtesse recollects our little sparring. It helped to
pass the time at Madrid. But here, on second thoughts, I
think I should have cultivated an alliance. La Valincour
at Marly could be a decided nuisance if she chose to be
spiteful."
In the meantime Gaultier had made inquiries after the
corntesse, and learned that she had gone to the rooms of the
ladies-in-waiting. Here madame de Ventadour, governess
to the ' petit dauphin,' the due de Bretagne, was occupied
with the little prince, whom she had brought over from
Marly to make a regulation visit to his royal great-grandsire
and spend the day at Versailles.
Sending in his name, Gaultier was asked into one of the
private boudoirs, close to madame de Maiiitenon's apartments,
until the comtesse de Valincour could see him.
Presently the door opened, and the co .i; '-se entered,
wearing a rich dressing-gown of Indian silk it! place of her
driving costume, and without her hat. She came forward
quickly and kissed her brother with a certain amount of
affection.
" How did you hear of me ? " she asked.
" We came across the wreck of your carriage at the entrance,"
replied the abb<^, looking at his sister with a critical air, and
evidently a little surprised at something. " Pierre told us
about the affair."
" Who are ' we ' ? "
" Dubois was with me. He begged to be remembered.*
" Dubois r and the duke ? "
" Oh ! he is in Paris."
The comtesse considered a few moments, while her brother
54
H fcent Squire
ir!
continued to regard her steadfastly. Then she went to the
door, locked it, and pointed to an easy-chair.
"Sit down, my dear Armand," she said "I rather want
to have a httle chat with you — that was why I came here
to-day. One of the equerries mentioned that you had come
over to Versailles. Madame de Ventadour has lent me this
r^ 1 • 1" they are repairing the damage done to my dress,
so that we shall not be interrupted."
"'l._ ;.Ljb^ rolled up ■xjauteuil for the comtesse, and leisurely
deposited himself in another near at hand.
" By all means," said he.
CHAPTER VIII
iF'1
YVONNE DE VALINCOUR
" Firs r of all," said the comtesse, " did you get my last letter ?
I ask because, as usual, you omitted to answer it."
" Let us see," deliberated the abb^. " When was it sent ?"
*' A year ago — just after we had left ^Madrid."
The abb^ cast about in his memory and fished up a reminis-
cence.
" I have some idea of a letter coming to me at ny old
lodgings. I was ill at the time, aid 'i.ere was a gre..: fuss
made. The scoundrelly landlord refused to entertain me
any longer, and insisted that I h;'d set fire to his house I
fancy that was pur invention."
The comtesse had evidently a certain familiarity with hr
brother's idiosyncracies.
" As vou are not quite sure, I presume your illness was the
usual one ? ' she asked.
" I called it fever," replied the abbe placidly. " The
(locto; -ailed i h'lirium tremens. He was probably a quae';.
When I was sufficiently recovered to move, ' found 11 my
paoers burnt, most of my clothes, and a good deal of the
frniture — some careless rving-wench, no doubt. BJt I
certainly never lead your letter. I have heard nothing of
you since you went to the Escarial, now I come to think
of it — except at t.1- :ond hand, through the de Noailles."
"That ■ eans that I iuve a good deal t<> tell you," said
the comtes ir resigned tor .
%
a Ikent Squire
55
'• I ar" ^11 attention, my dear Yvonne."
"To ;in at the beginning, you recollect perfectly well
how I resi aed the marriage with M. de Valincour?"
"Perfectly well. But I assure you I did all I could — at
your request — with my step-mother. Unfortunately, you had
really no case, except that he was old, ugly, broken down
with disease, and a maniac for ill-tenipci— nothing that could
be considered a valid objection. The difficulty was that
madame du Mresne de Beauval had become dissatisfied with
being merely the wife of a little Languedoc s jigneur like
our father, and thought she had someth ig to gain by being
the mother-in-law of a comte — especially u con e de Vaiincour.
In fact, we had a little quarrel over the matter."
" 1 know you had. I heard afterwards that your income
had been cut off in consequence. I was very sorry."
" So was I, my dear Yvonne."
"I felt that I had done you an injury by asking your
assistance ; but then, you see, I was so accir tomed to look to
you for everything. You had always a good heart, Armand."
"An admirable heart," assented the abbe pensively; "in
fac. my heart is my strong point."
The comtesse smiled, and refrained from making an obvious
comment.
" At the same time, as your efforts were fruitles , anc' I had
to marry the comte, you did me the net best ser«ice you
could when you were clever enough to f;et the duchesse de
Noailles to appoint me to the vacancy in the household at
Madrid."
" Ah ! the duchesse and I used to be very good friends,"
said the abb(J. " Now we are not on terms. She says I am
no longer respectable. Imagine that to yourself."
" I never told you why I wanted that appointment so
particularly."
"It is no use quarrelling with people's tastes, my dear
Yvonne. Personally, I should have thought even Valincour
more civiHsed than Madrid."
" I saw an opportunity at Madrid vhich I could find nowhere
else in Europe — at that time."
" An opportunity for ^v' * ^ "
" That is my secret," s the > -,-ntesse, after a pause.
" By all means," said the abbo serenely.
" Which I am going to teli you."
" Better late than never. But why late ? "
" Because now you can help me only by understanding me ;
56
B Ikcnt Squire
I
tt
formerly it was not necessary. And by helping me you will
help yourself."
" I see no objection to that," said the abbd.
The comtesse rose, stood in front of Gaultier, and slipped
off her dressing-gown. She was without her dress and bodice,
and her superb arms, shoulders, and bust, worthy of the
Venus of Milo, were bare down to her corset of pale blue
satin.
" Look at me well, my dear Armand," she said eriously.
" It is some years since we met last, and I have < liunged a
little, I think. I am desirous of having your unbiassed opinion
on my personal appearance. It will be valuable to me as
coming from a man of experience who is luckily only one's
brother."
The abbd duly utilised the opportunity offered him. He
leaned back in his chair, with his hands behind his head, and
surveyed the face and figure of the comtesse for some seconds.
" Well, what is your verdict ? "
" My dear Yvonne," said the abbd judicially, " there is no
doubt you have developed marvellously since our old days
together. I was amazed when I saw you. I • my opinion,
whatever it may be worth, you are probably the most beautiful
woman in Europe."
" I have been under the same impression myself," said the
comtesse, putting on her dressing-gown again. " But, at the
same time, I might naturally be mistaken ; and, of course, there
is no one from whom to get impartial information in the
ordinary course of things."
"Assuming that our joint verdict is correct," said the abb^,
" what is the little secret that I am to hear ? "
The comtesse resumed her seat, and looked fixedly at her
brother.
" My secret, Armand, is that I have an ambition. I have
had it ever since I became a woman. I opposed my marriage
because it bid fair to frustrate my ambition."
The abb^ stretched out his legs, and thrust his hands mto
his pockets.
" And what is this said ambition ? " he asked.
*' I wish to be the ruler of an empire," replied the comtesse
calmly.
The abb^ put his head on one side, and looked at his sister
" It *' tK t^^iiv, TX-'lVlit cin.
" Fesfe ! " said he, " that is a very fine idea. Your programme
has one conspicuous advantage, if no other."
I
" Look at iiic well, my doar Armaiul."
fai/i- .-r,.
H Ikent Squire
57
" What is that ? "
" Why, you are pretty safe against the risk of being bored
to death by succeeding. Nothing is so annoying as to get
what one wants — sometimes. What a field this ambition of
yours presents for not being disappointed by anything of that
sort ! "
The comtesse was not in the least disturbed by this philosophy.
" I see you are a little in the dark yet," she said, "and quite
naturally. You think I am seeking too much ? "
*' On the contrary. But I see some little difficulties."
" That is not the point. You have yourself known four
women who were not without influence over empires — the
duchess of Portsmouth, the duchess of Marlborough, madame
de Maintenon, the princesse des Ursins."
" True. But each of these women had some advantage
which you lack."
" For instance ? "
*' La Querouaille was sent by one ruler expressly to rule
another ruler. No one wants the comtesse de Valincour to
be a ruler — except you and me."
" Very true, so far."
"Sarah Jennings would have been nothing without John
Churchill. What is M. de Valincour ? "
"Goon."
" It took a dozen years of nursery drudgery to turn Fran^oise
Scarron, governess, into the marquise de Maintenon, queen
sul) rosd."
" Without doubt."
" Marie-Anne de la Tremouille had to be twice widowed in
the best possible style, to have a little court of her own at
Rome, and to be sixty-three, before she became dictatress of
Spain. Besides, she had to deal with a king of eighteen and
a queen of scarcely fourteen— two babies, and one of them
next door to an idiot."
" All that is true, my good Armand. On the other hand,
none of these women were Yvonne de Valincour. That makes
all the difference."
The abb(! began to entertain a certain respect for this
stupendous self-confidence, expressed with such unaffected
directness.
" I do not contradict you," he said.
" Therefore, as all these wcrncn, without either my beauty
or my brains— as I conceive— did a good deal of what I wish
to do entirely, whtt do you find unreasonable in my idea ? "
58 H Ikent Squire
The abbd rubbed his chin meditatively.
" Suppose you go on," said he. " We got as far as your
ambition, and your marriage with the comte de Valincour.
What next?"
"I heard that madame des Ursins had asked the duchesse
de Noaillcs to send her a lady-in-waiting. Then I saw my
opportunity. Thanks to your assistance, I was nominated.
Cannot you understand what I went to Madrid for ? "
" Let us hear," said the abbd attentively.
"The comte was very much flattered by the appointment,
and made no objection. It would not have mattered if he had.
We travelled to Madrid ';i the suite of the due d'Orl^anj,
as you know."
" As to the duke ? " asked the abb^ curiously.
" Oh ! everybody knew the duke's reputation about women.
I simply kept out of his way, so that he saw little or nothing
of me before he left to conduct the campaign against the
Austrians. It v. ould have been a mere waste of time — then."
" Certainly."
" The main thing was not to excite the suspicions of madame
des Ursins."
"About what?"
"My dear Armand, you are affecting to be obtuse. About
the king, of course."
" The king ? I begin to comprehend. Well ? "
" In six months I had managed to make the king's life a
burden to him. He was madly in love with me, and dared
not avow it, even to himself He was terrified lest madame
des Ursins should find him out, and he was miserable because
he had ceased to care for his wife. I confined myself to being
sympathetic. I knew I could do nothing safely while the
queen was alive — the imbecile made it quite a matter of
conscience."
" All this is very interesting," said the abb^ seriously.
" And how did you propose to arrange matters ? "
" Nothing was in the way but the queen. The queen
meant madame des Ursins, and madame des Ursins meant
the government of Spain. With the queen away, the king
would have given himself to me body and soul. I should
have got rid of madame des Ursins in twenty-four hours.
Then I should have reigned over an empire in two worlds."
The abbe listened with absorbed attention and 2 fiswning
wonder.
" Nevertheless, the queen being there ? " he asked.
*s»5-
»•
a mcnt Squire 59
"She is very delicate, and the Spanish doctors are miracu-
lously stupid."
" Creaking gates hang long, I have always heard— even with
Spaaish doctors."
"i think the doctors could have been persuaded to be too
stupid, even for that."
" And if their stupidity did not admit of exaggeration ? "
" In that case, I daresay I could have managed to be
passably stupid myself." °
';Parbleu! " said the abb^, rubbing his chin. " Some fuss
might have been made about that "
" Not necessarily."
" To say nothing of the difficulty."
" It has been found easy enough before."
" For example?"
"Well, did not Madame die very conveniently for the
chevalier de Lorraine, although he was as far away as Rome
at the time and what fuss did Charles II. of England make ?
None at all."
"That's very true."
" When Madame's daughter, the late queen of Spain, was
got rid of by the Austrian party to make way for Marie- Anne
ot Havana, did anybody made a fuss ? "
"Probably not. But you must recollect that the people
who assisted Henrietta Stuart and Marie-Louise d'Orldans into
a better world were a little too high to be criticised."
" That only means that more care would have been required
m my case. As it happened, I had no opportunity of taking
care. Madame des Ursins began to open her eyes "
"You quarrelled with her?"
an^'^"I.'? l^"" l^""'^'. J "^""^ '^''^''y' ^^^ '"ost devoted adherent
and faithful echo. Ihat made it difficult for her to get rid
of me or keep me out of the way of the king. Finally, she
devised a great coup, and checkmated me."
" How was that ? "
" Having no possible excuse for dismissing me individually
iTr^nuT^' she determined upon sending back the whole
1 rench household m a body. This was on the pretext that
It was necessary to throw the king entirely into the hands
of the Spanish and thus strengthen his position by dissipating
he furious jealousy of the French which was entertained bv
tjic fiuiion.
'' That was it, was it ? " said the abbd.
"Of course, it was useless to resist
or protest. We all
6o
H Ikent Squire
!
left Madrid together, and my husband and myself retired to
Valincour."
" I heard of your return from Amelot. By the way, why
did he leave with the others ? The excuse about the French
household could not apply to the French ambassador ? "
"He left because 1 left. I thought he might be useful
here, so I did not discourage him."
" Ah ! so he was another ? "
" Yes. And I was right. Through him I am here to-day —
he obtained me the nomination to a vacancy in the house-
hold of madame la dauphine only last week. In the mean-
time, I have lost a year, you see, vegetating at Valincour
instead of getting forward."
" Then you still cherish this ambition of yours ? " asked the
abb^.
" I cherish two, naturally."
" Two ? "
"Failing Spain, I look to France. Also, I have accounts
to settle with madame des Ursins."
" Of course. And what is the programme now ? "
"Have you not guessed?"
" Pardieu ! no. The due de Bourgogne is too respectable,
and besides, he is too fond of the dauphine."
"That remains to be seen. At the same time, I do not
reckon on it."
"The due de Berri? but he is rather remote."
" He is a fool entirely of the wrong sort. He would allow
his people to put me in the Bastille."
" If you intend to wait for the due de Bretagne, madame
des TJrsins will have no particular advantage over you in the
way of age."
• • ♦ ♦ »
The abbe's allusions may perhaps be conveniently elucidated
for the reader by a few lines of genealogy.
At the period of which we write there were two royal
families in France, one being that of Louis XIV., the other
that of his deceased younger brother 'Monsieur,' otherwise
Philippe, due d'Orldans.
Louis XIV. 's only legitimate son, ' Monseigneur,' had died
on April r4th, 171 1, the year of our story, partly fulfilling the
popular prophecy current long before his death of " Fits de
roi, pire de rot. Jamais roi,'^
Monseigneur left three sons.
The eldest of these was the due de Bourgogne, now
0'
H Ikent Squire
6x
now
dauphin. The due de Bourgogne had two little sons, the
elder of whom, the due de Bretagne (called the 'petit
dauphin') was at this date six years old, while the younger
was not yet two.
Monseigneur's second son was now reigning in Spain as
Philippe v., his right of succession to the throne of France
having been already renounced by Louis XIV. in the pending
negotiations for peace.
Monseigneur's third son was the due de Berri.
The family of Orleans was represented by Philippe, due
d Orleans, only son of ' Monsieur ' (the brother of Louis XIV.)
and his second wife, the princess Palatine. By his first wife,
Henrietta Stuart (sister of our Charles II. and always spoken
of as 'Madame'), Monsieur had had two daughters, of
whom the elder, Marie-Louise, had married the late kinc
Charles II. of Spain.*
The heirs-presumptive to the throne of France were thus
in order of claim — '
The due de Bourgogne, grandson of Louis XIV. ;
The due de Bretagne and his baby brother, the due
d Anjou, great-grandsons of the king ;
The due de Berri (assuming Louis XIV. 's renunciation
of the king of Spain's claim to hold good) ;
And finally, the due d'Orleans, the king's nephew.
* * * * j)j
The corntesse nodded her head.
" You are getting nearer, my dear Armand, without knowing
It, she said. "At the same time, I do not intend to wait
till I am sixty-three."
"Feste! no. May one ask how you propose to achieve
your purpose before attaining that fine age?"
"I have considered that— I mean as to answering your
question. On the whole, I think it would be better not."
"Better for you or for me?"
" For both — but especially for you."
"Doubtless you are very considerate, my dear Yvonne-
alUhe same, I fail to understand you." '
"The fact is, Armand, we are a little differently situated
in this affair. If matters went wrong "
t J. ?"'^" ""^ above, it will be useful for the reader to recollect the
two surviviPEr sons of r nnio Ynr „„j __j,_- j_ ,- . i.. "^
6a
a Ikent Squire
••What matters?"
'• The matters I have in view-
"Well?"
"I should hold my tongue. I am under the impression
that you would not."
" Why should I not hold my tongue, my good sister ? "
The comtesse looked at her brother for a second or two
before answering.
'• I take it," she said, " that as soon as you were in the
Bastille, and a few remarks came to be made about the
• question extraordinaire ' "
" What on earth are you talking about ? " asked the abbd.
•• The Bastille and the • question ' are the two first things
one has to consider in this sort of affair," replied the comtesse.
•• After that, there is the choice of being burnt alive or
broken on the wheel — for me. I think it is only men whom
they drag to pieces with stallions — so that would be your
affair."
The abb^ found the converi^ation taking a very disagreeable
turn.
"Decidedly, my dear Yvonne," said he, "you have a
curious way of encouraging people."
•' I do not wan* to encourage you. I am only suggesting
that, perhaps, it might be more convenient for you not to
be in my confidence. I am sure it would distress you to
feel obliged, at the first turn of the handle, to repeat all
my little secrets to M. d'Argenson. That is why, on the
whole, I propose to keep my plans to myself."
The abbd did not see any use in affecting the heroic.
Moreover, the grapes seemed to grow a good deal out of
reach ; in fact, it was not quite certain whether there were
any grapes at all.
" My dear Yvonne, curiosity is not in the least a failing
of mine," he replied. "Only, if I am not to be favoured
with your projects, what is the particular occasion for our
present interview — apart, of course, from the pleasure of seeing
each other again ? "
•' The principal point, my dear Armand, is to consider our
finances, present and future. Are you in funds, or do you
need money ?"
"At present I have a few pistoles to spare — which does
not happen very often. The other day his majesty paid the
expenses of my recent journey, and made me a little present
of six thousand livres. Do you want to borrow or lend ? "
H'
i
I
a •Rent Squire 6$
"Neither at the moment. But I desire to urge upon vou
that the only way m which you can be of real fssisLnce °o
me m future, and further your own interests as we wuf be
to raise as much money as you can for me. To secure this
NTonrthaf Tr'r' ""■ ^' ^^^'"^°''^ ^ year's" com"
Not only that, but to carry out my plans, I may at anv
moment want to spend money freely " ' -^ "lay at any
II That is intelligible," said the abbd.
Therefore, if by any means-«;y., you understand-you can
lay your hands on a few hundred or thousand pistoles don"
drmk or gamble or throw them away, but send^them to me
nothing.'"'''"'' '"^ ^"" ^"°^ ' ^° "°' ^"^^^^ - f"- about
u vl"' V '""^ "^"'°'^'" '^'^ ^^^ ^^bd. - Anything else ? '»
Yes. You ire mtimate with the abbd Dubois ? "
VFassably so.
u ?K '^, ^^'!^ hand-in-glove with M. d'Orl^ans ? "
Absolutely."
thl'J,?^^ ^"°''' ""^ '^^^ ^'"'^ °^ ^^^^ other at Madrid-when
the duke was commander-in-chief in Spain "
II And ready to be king if opportunity offered?"
.Kk/t°P .""""^ so-when he was recalled. But as to the
^'"^vith pK".:- '^^^ '"^ ^ ""^^ --s^ ^-- -.''
and alt" ''™ '^^* """"^ ^"' °''^"' "^"^^ ^^^"^ Spain-branches
" Will he understand ? "
"Probably."
" That is all ? "
"Yes."
The abbd took his hat and stick.
Then I will say adieu," said he
1 orcy.'
Jea^^4'" ^™™'''" '^'^ '"e connesse, kissing him
,nJ'"' ^''L"^ received his sisters salute with a tolennt a,V
^nltuTnSVra^'^hfc;.^.-^ '--' .He.?£'Xp:d;
shJcD/! "' ' """' ™"' '° ™«<= "">^ bearing the™ rC
" I have to see M. de
The comtesse smiled a little curioa:,Iy.
None, she replied. "That would t
be fatal."
64
B Ikent Squire
" All the better," said the abbd, as he unlocked the c'jor
and went out.
The comtesse lay back in her chair and meditated. A
half-smile parted her lips.
" Fatal ? " she murmured to herself. ** Perhaps so. I am
sorry I forgot to ask his name."
I
k 1
CHAPTER IX
CONTAINING A SHORT HISTORICAL DIGRESSION
After Gwynett had finished his breakfast, he returned to the
palace, and proceeded to the wing pointed out to him as
being occupied by madame de Maintenon, in order to deliver
his letter from the princesse des Ursins.
The mention of the latter name elicited the information
that the marquise was engaged at the moment, coupled with
a respectful request that Gwynett would wait until his name
could be sent in to her. He was ushered into a gorgeous
ante-chamber leading to the marquise's reception-room, and
a seat was offered him, which he was nothing loth to accept.
A stream of distinguished personages passed before him
for half an hour or more, both arriving and departing. These
were various ministers and officials making their reports to
madame de Maintenon, who had long been for all practical
purposes the actual ruler of France, and who at this time
devoted all her energy and ingenuity to further a single object.
That object was to keep her august protector and secretly
wedded husband from being worried into his grave sooner than
could possibly be helped.
Hence no business of state was allowed to be laid before
the king till it had been examined into by the marquise, and
then only if his personal attention to it was unavoidable. Above
all, foreign affairs, with their myriad complexities, difficulties,
and humiliations, were sedulously kept from him until the
marquise and M. de Torcy had between them made things
as intelligible, as easy, and as rose-coloured as circumstances
would permit.
Thus the marquise's reception-room became every morning
a sort of office-nf-all-work for state affairs ; and Crwvnstt s.'iw
pass and repass before him almost every head of a department
other than those of mere routine.
H fkcnt Squire 65
./'"^!!^;^ ''^?^ middle-aged man, who walked with difficulty
emerged from between the porii^res of the salon door. ^'
Do you know M de Torcy ?" asked the usher of Gwynett
.JJt, ^^^'^'^^^^ his head, the usher approached de Torcy
and said something m a low tone. The marquis came up to
Gwynett and said very courteously ^
Gwyneu boweY' ^'""^ "^''^''"' ^'' ^'''"^' ^- Gwynett?"
" I am on my way to the king at the moment, but I will
lettrh'i; '°°" "' ^ ^'" ^'^ "^^J^^^y- ^" ^he meantime you
w kh f. ii^"" '" V^u '^''^"'^" ''^^ °"^^- She may probabW
wish to see you. Perhaps you will be good enough lo wait ? ''
The marquis signed to a chamberlain, and took the le ter
Ht'th'iTffidar'""'- ""' '""'^"^^ '''' ^--' -<i P--d
;: At once," said he. - Au revoir, M. Gwynett."
MaTnilnon"^ Afth'"'' "'^^^^"'^ '^^ ^^'°" ^^ "^^^ame de
Mamtenon. As the marquis entered the ante-chamber which
led to the royal sanctum, the abbd Gaultier stepped Wd
The 'abblld 'of ''' '"' ^" ''•' °f --ideralSe' assurance
ine abbe had, of course, previously delivered his not vprv
important official despatch from St. John, who was the onlv
vZru' ""^ ^' new Eng,i3h n.inistr/ able to sp^k or wrie
trench even decently. But the really important part of the
peace negotiations with France were now^ being Srried on
by MMenager deputy from the city of Rouen fo 'he BoarS
shelf TH.^^h'",'''"'"^"'- ^°^ '^^ *™^ being rather on ?he
res'entmln^' "^ '''"^'"'^"^ ^^'^ " ^ood deal of suppressed
"Pardon, M. le marquis," said he "am T at l.h^rH, .
return to London, or have you commarids fo^me ? " ''^ '°
Ihe marquis, who would have felt rather a nnni,>, .
touching the speaker with a pair of tongs assumed an ex
pressiono extreme blandness, and looked It' tl" celling ''"
said he °T Tn? '"u/^^ ^^^°"' ^° ^'^-^'^ ^" J^our. M. I'abbd "
rather in Jhe'air.^ '^" '"''^"'^ ^^^^^^^ °" ^'^^ ^"^ nose
The abbd gave a snort of disgust.
bed Rn/Lc\^'°''''?' "^ "^'S'^' ^^ ^ell have stayed in
Ti,. uw ^'^ ^^'Sands are always ungrateful." ^
66
a *ent Squire
it
in daylight, at least— were tabooed in the precincts f the
palace. So he strolled r.nind to the royal stables, and
treated the stablemen to a display of the knowledi^e of horse-
flesh he had picked up at Newmarket and elsewhere during
his residence in England.
Before we follow the marquis into the august presence of
Louis XI\'., we will venture ro efresh the reader's memory
upon one or two of the subjects which were to enter into
the impending consultation between the king and his minister.
The great war of the Spanish succession, following on the
death in 1701 of Charles II. (the hut king of the Austrian
dynasty in Spain), was now drawing to a close.
It had been provoked by Louis, who had made use of a
will, extorted by his ambassador from the imbecile and dying
Charles, to place his own second grandson (then duko of
Anjou) on the throne of Spain as Philippe V.
This was in flagrant violation of a previous treaty with
England and the Dutch, by which the succession was assigned
to the archduke Karl of Austria, second son of Leopold,
emperor of Germany, who was a cou n of Charles II. of
Spain, and had married his sister.
To further improve matters, Louis had t,.ken ccasion on
the death of our ex-king James II. at St. Germain, in 1701,
to recognise his son (queen Anne's brother) as king of
England under the title of James III.
This united all the English parties, except he Jacobites,
in a burst of patriotic fury. The old Grand Alliance with
the Empire and die United Provinces was renewed, and
in 1702 war was commenced with Louis and Philippe to expel
the latter from his new sovereignty.
The operations of the Allies were directed, duiing the whole
of the long struggle, by an inseparable triumvirate of three of
the ablest men in Europe.
These were the duke of Marlborough, for a long time
absolute dictator of England, but now the only survivor in
office of the Whig party; Heinsius, grand pensionary of
Holland, the old colleague of William III. in the States-
General of the United Provinces; and prince Eugene of
Savoy, generalissimo of the Imperial forces.
After nine years of warfare, in Spain and out of it, the
powerful monarchy of Louis had been brought to the vercre
"" J " ii-tircthciea acrica ui luiiuury uisasiers and
the enormous cost in blood and treasure of the protracted
contest. On the other hand, king Philippe V.— thanks to
w w W
a fkcnt Squire 67
was now emperor of Germany. "i "le maJt ime,
This altered everything.
.hri'nr^i '■""'"?'>■ P"""''''^ "'■"■ 'f "'^y !<>'' I'hilippe V. on his
enormous pos ,„s of Spain ,o .hose of France
king oTspaln" it . '"." ','"= ™""^™ ^'" ^I-. if made
ren^ s (ijhaijv^L^^ilr.' ,;: tr-hfTh^'s '''°™r ?^
ngh.s to .he French successio'n \*crea ' ar V T.fZl
K™rSpa"nTh cl's^r^„nT„"e^tn,t'.':frk " '
arransenrenes S tS nV^^.ia l^T"';!^?. ™''^„;' X'
of Hanover (ti-e'L^-LSd''; ! nrstc:",';^ t""
Anne) swore that a Tory neace sv h Vr^ '° ^"^'-'"
,— . ..rn of the chLEVs? O^eo^^. Z^^^
paScf*' tei"t/pS"zf \,rrr -^
dismh d from offir-f hi\ ,>^ii.; i r ■ V^' ^ auchess was
«!and. Lu. he was. nevertheless, still the arbiter oT'ihe
• Usually styled the 'Old Pretender.'
*y
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68
a ment Squire
situation on the continent. It did not yet appear whether it
would pay best to betray the queen, the elector, or the
chevalier de St. George. So the duke watched and waited.
tl
CHAPTER X
A PRIVY COUNCIL
The king looked up from the perusal of a state paper when
the marquis de Torcy was announced, and nodded silently.
Louis XIV. was now over seventy-three years old, broken
m health and spirits, and bowed down with the burden of
half a century of despotic sovereignty. But he was still as
ever during his reign, punctilious in his dress and bearing
allowing no sign of the invalid to appear in his attire and
very little m his manner. He was wearing the royal mourning
of purple for the death of Monseigneur, his only legitimate
son and the heir to the monarchy, in the preceding April
The marquis saluted the king, seated himself at the table
which stood near, and opened his portfolio of reports
" The most important, sire," he said, " is a verbal one from
the abbe Gaultier, who has come over with some letters
from M. St. John, which really contain nothing at all."
The king looked rather disgusted.
"Can't you manage to do without that scoundrel?" he
asked. " He has been well paid."
M. de Torcy shrugged his shoulders.
"He has been extremely useful so far, sire. Besides, he
IS none the worse spy for being called an envoy. One doesn't
go to a pig-sty for attar of roses."
"Well, what is new?"
"It appears, sire, that lord Oxford's government show a
disposition to make peace with us at all hazards, if they can
override the House of Lords. This has been so obvious in
°f ^^" ?^* ^^- I'^'yenberg and Vrybergen have been furious
and M. de Galas has been warned that he may be deported
unless he moderates the tone of his representations."
Kryenberg was the resident minister in London of the
elector of Hanover Vrybergen the envoy of the United
Provinces, and the comte de Galas the ambassador of the new
emperor of Germany, Karl VI. All of these were hand-in-
,:;■■!
B fkcnt Squire
69
he
glove with Marlborough and the Whig leaders ; and each of
them, for his own separate reasons, was busy arguing that a
pe?.ce with France at the present juncture was something too
monstrous even for argument. In the meantime, Menager
had practically come to an agreement with the Tory cabinet
m England, behind the backs of the Allies,
"Then what is lord Oxford waiting for? " asked the king
"They are all afraid of the duke, sire."
*^ I'es^e / have they not cut his claws sufficiently ? "
" Sire, if they have cut his English claws pretty well they
have not cut his Dutch, Hanoverian, and German claws at
all. From what Gaultier learns, if lord Oxford persuaded the
queen to dismiss the duke from the lord-generaiship, the Dutch
would in a week declare for an immediate invasion of En^^land
by the elector of Hanover." °
" But we have offered to recognise the Act of Settlement
and the Protestant succession for the last three years " said
the king. ^ '
" True, sire ; but the court party don't care a sou for the
Protestant succession. Queen Anne herself hates the elector
like poison, and would much rather be succeeded bv the
chevaher. ^
"The king, M. de Torcy," corrected Touis, with rather
a frown.
"I thought we had got beyond all that," said the marquis
curtly. bt. Germain has cost us enough already, sire It
IS time your majesty had a cheaper almshouse."
The marquis was apt to lose his temper over the Stuart
alliance and the misfortunes which had accompanied it
uXPV/°''^^^ yourself, marquis," said the king angrily.
_ Well sire, let neither of us forget the really important
point— that it is Marlborough, and no one else, who can save
us or undo us. If Oxford makes peace with us and recalls
the English forces, Marlborough is laid on the shelf— and
Marlborough on the shelf is worth at least a hundred and
lord" eneraT"" Pounds a year less than Marlborough the
" Impossible ! " cried Louis.
"Perfectly possible, sire— two or three salaries, com-
missions on all contracts and on all promotions, pickings
everywhere, besides pocketing the pay of whole regin^ents of
W?J^?k ", ^h^J""ster-roii while they have been dead and
a^A A ,\^u •^°'^" y^^"- Y°" see, sire, one loses a
good deal by being only a secretary of state."
70
H ment Squire
(I
i'f
n
It will be observed that the duke's skill in finance was no
secret to his contemporaries.
" But the duchess must be wealthy," said the king, ignoring
de Torcy's last remark.
" No doubt. They say she and the duke used to make
ninety thousand pounds a year out of their home appointments
and the sale of offices. But all that is over, sire. Since
the duchess was dismissed — all the worse for us "
"Not altogether," said Louis. "It was then that M.
Harley and his cousin the chambermaid sent your blackguard
Gaultier to us. They, at all events, are ready to come to
terms with us."
"Sire, these Marlboroughs are insatiable. They are the
son and daughter of the horse-leech. Now that the duchess
cannot make money, the duke must make all the more. If
he cannot make it as an English general, he will want to make
it as a Dutch, or Hanoverian, or Imperial general. It would
have paid us, sire, to have let him make it as a French
general."
Louis had refused to give Marlborough a commission in
the French army when lord Lockhart, the English ambassador
in Paris, asked for a colonelcy for him in May, 1674— a
refusal extended to prince Eugene a few years la.er. The
king recollected these two enormous blunders only too well,
without any reminder from the marquis. The latter went on,'
"Whatever the English ministry does, sire, the other
Allies will continue the war, if Marlborough chooses. We
shall still have Heinsius, the prince, and the duke to count
with, and behind them all the forces of Hanover, the States-
General, and the Empire."
" This is confirmed by all your other news ? '' asked the
king, after a pause.
" Ves, sire. Peace with England, but wiU Marlborough,
means the continuation of the war, with the , j at the head
of our enemies."
" And the continuation of the war means ruin i* "
"Ruin, and worse, sire —the dismemberment of the monarchy.
The Dutch will take Flanders and the emperor Alsace and
Lorraine— probably a slice of Gascony and Languedoc to lack
on to Spain when he has expelled your majesty's giandson—
and madame des Ursins."
The king seemed stupefied at this prophecv.
" A partition of France ? " he muttered mechanically.
" Nothing less, sire."
a Ikent Squire
7'
•J
" The whole country shall be. laid waste first," said the king,
ireinbling with rage.
" Impossible, sire."
" Why impossible ? "
"Your majesty's farmers-general have done it already, for
all practical purposes."
The marquis always felt sore at having had to take ofifice
after a series of predecessors who, in order to administer
magnificendy, had left the country so bankrupt that M. de
lorcy could hardly administer at all. The king ignored the
jibe.
" Well ? " said he.
" Peace or no peace, sire, one thing is necessary."
"And that is ?"
" Marlborough must be bought, sire."
" We tried to buy him two years ago at the Hague."
" Well, after a fashion, sire. When I reached the Hague,
by the skin of my teeth, and went to M. Heinsius— by the
way, sire, did I teil you I was kept waiting in his ante-room
nearly forty minutes ? "
This seemed the last straw to Lou's XIV.
"Kept waiting!" he exclaimed, a; if his ears must have
deceived him.
"Yes, sire. Tit for tat, probably."
" How, marquis ? " '
" Your majesty may recor ct that when M. Heinsius came
here once on an embassy from William III.— when things
were rather different, sire "
The marquis's reminiscences usually annoyed Louis
;' Well?" said he sharply. ^
'^ M. Louvois threatened to throw him into the Bastille."
." We are all liable to make mistakes occasionally, marquis "
True, sire. We made a mistake when I went to
M. Hemsius, and from him to the duke— we did not bid
high enough."
•| We offered him four millions of livres." *
"Yes, sire— two millions for a peace that would enable
us either to keep Naples and Sicily for the king of Spain, or
o keep Strasburg, or to keep Dunkirk; or three millions for
both Naples and Dunkirk ; or four millions for the Italian
provinces, Dunkirk, and Strasburg altogether. But he would
not nibble, sire. Naturally, for he and th*» Hn^h^cc «,^,,m
* About ;^3oo,ooo.
•
7a
U fkcnt Squfrc
make that much in a year and a half of the war, and he would
reckon on keeping up the war for three years at least "
In fact, the worthy marquis tells us in his " M^moires "
he 'trnnS^ ^'^''^'r '""^^^^ ^ ^^^ ^"^^ ^'^ not even take
the trouble to refuse the bribe offered, but merely turned
the conversation. ^
II We could not have afforded more," said the king.
-ru\ ^"^^" "^""^ "°^ ^^ cannot afford as much "
Ihe king bethought him of the royal manifesto circulated
in 1709, which had brought in a considerable sum, in volun-
AuL^ purpose of carrying on the war with the
"■^^^fJ^^^^S^e negotiations failed," said he, "the nation
responded nobly to my appeal for resources "
fnr^^Z T^' f^- ^"' .'^ •' °"^ ^^^"S to ask Frenchmen
f^ o^Tk^ to make war against a host of invaders, and another
to ask them for money to make peace with a single man."
What have we in the treasury?" asked the king, after
a pause. °'
" Less than a million livres, sire."
nJnT"!,''';;^!''^ •^'''"''^ ^^' "°' ^ P^^t'^y "'''"on to call his
own ! cried Louis, exasperated by his humiliations and his
poverty.
" No, sire."
"It appears therefore, M. le marquis, that the king has
no financiers either." ^
"Certainly no one who can squeeze juice out of a sucked
orange sire. The orange was juicy enough in the time of
M. Colbert and M. Louvois-when I had not the honour
of serving your majesty."
the' iratt Sg.""'"'''"'' '" '^°'' '^^^'' ^^ ^' "^''^"'''" ^"^PP^*^
The marquis lost his temper at this comparison.
r.iK ?5 '''Z^'^- .^"' th^t d'd "°t prevent my uncle
Colbert from dying of a broken heart at your majesty's way
of recognising his ability, nor M. Louvois from expiring just
out with a pXn""' """'""'' '''" ''■°"'^^' of knocking his briins
Louis could never bear any allusion to the terrible inter-
view with his imperious minister, in which the sudden entry
of madame de Maintenon had alone checked an outbreak
of perhaps fatal violence on the part of the 1rinc._ai! »»>- -rn-
lamentable because Louvois, already dangerously ilL died
soon afterwards. ^ & / "i, uicu
I
H Ikent Squire
73
after
" M. le marquis," said Louis angrily, « if you prefer the
Bastille to my cabinet, you have only to say so."
" Sire," replied de Torcy, as angry as the king, " I should
have preferred it any time the last five years."
" Let us make up for lost time, M. le marquis."
The marquis opened a drawer, took out a written paper
and handed it to the king. '
'I There is a lettre de cachet, sire. Overwhelm me with
obligations by filling it up," and the marquis threw himself
back in his chair with the air of a scH .Iboy receiving a
holiday. "What! no more despatches, no more reports, no
more negotiations, no more appeals, no more slavery ! Pardieu ^
To think that to-night, for the first time for fifteen years I
shall be able to go to sleep without troubling myself about
to-morrow morning ! Verily, I see the gates of Paradise open-
mg to me before my time I "
J!?x '^•"g scrawled a furious signature to the lettre de cachet.
M. de Bernaville is an excellent hand at picquet, and I
know his chef well," went on the marquis. •« I shall eniov
my evening, enormously. I have only one request to make
sire, and that is, that when M. de Marlborough enters Paris
with his armies you will persuade him not to disturb me
My comphments to my numerous able successors, sire " And
the marquis pushed his portfolio across the table, took a
prolonged pinch of snuff, and proceeded to smooth the feather
01 his hat with extreme deliberation.
The king, struck to the heart with this bitter raillery, sank
back m his chair. His head fell upon his breast. All the
triumphs, the glories, the tragedies, and the enormous disasters
of his long reign rose in his memory. He thought of the far
away time when he had been powerful, wealthy, beloved
worshipped ; when two successive kings of England had been
his paid lackeys ; when his word had been law in half
Ji^urope. Now he was old, weary, crushed, bankrupt, sick
le^JT' '^T-ir ^\''' "^° ^^d ^^^^d him so wdl anS
served him so brilliantly were all dead. Maria di Mancini
Henrietta Stuart, Louise de la Vallibre, Athenais de Montespa^
Mane de Fontanges, were no more. His great ministers
and generals, Colbert, Turenne, Louvois, Conde, Vauban
Luxembourg, all had passed away. His son, the heir to hS
throne, resided in a newly made grave. Only his enemies
iciimuica— Mariborough, Heinsius, the elector', Eugene, the
emperor; and they were more powerful than evL The
monarchy was shaken to its foundations. All Europe was
74
a Iftent Squire
thirsting to destroy it. Except the man who sat opposite him,
he had not one faithful friend in the world.
The king lifted his head, swepf the lettre de cachet on to
the floor, and looked at de Torcy w lih eyes weary of every-
thing in earth and heaven.
" M. le marquis," said he at length, " do you think it is
amusing to have been king of France for eight-and-sixty
years ? "
The marquis melted in a moment at the unutterable mourn-
fulness of the aged face before him, and the voice which
seemed to come from a tomb.
"Pardon, sire, pardon! Blame my infirmities and the
cursed worries of my office— not myself. I shall die, I trust
in your majesty's service." '
" I hope not, marquis," said the king gently. " My grand-
son will want you no less than I. But to business again. You
did not come to-day to propose nothing ? "
" No, sire. But I wanted your majesty to see that there
is absolutely nothing left for us but what I am going to
propose."
"Well?"
•' Your majesty see3 that we must buy Marlborough. Now
Marlborough will cost us about a million sterling— say twelve
or thirteen millions of livres."
" And we have only a million livres in the treasury ? "
" Less than a million, sire. And no possibility of raising
any more by taxes. The people have nothing ; the peasants
are everywhere dying of starvation, the traders are bankrupt.
Nevertheless, there is plenty of money, sire."
" Where, marquis ? " asked the king uneasily.
" Sire, who own a third of all the property in France, and
have never paid a sou of taxes or war-contributions ? Who
could buy Marlborough ten times over, and never miss the
money ? "
The king looked very much disturbed.
"Explain yourself, marquis."
" I speak of the clergy, sire."
" What, marquis ! " whispered the king, in terrified tones.
" Levy on the Church ? "
" I said the clergy, sire. The Church, if you like."
" Impossible, marquis."
"Sire, the Church— the Gallican Church— has you for its
head, and must come to the rescue of the country when its
head summons it."
•posite him,
achet on to
y of every-
think it is
it-and-sixty
ble mourn-
Dice which
s and the
lie, I trust,
My grand-
gain. You
that there
\ going to
agh. Now
-say twelve
of raising
le peasants
bankrupt.
ranee, and
ns ? Who
r miss the
Red tones.
'ou for its
•i when its
a Ikeut Squtre 75
" Sacrilege, marquis."
conquest ?'''"''^^' ''''^' *° ^^^^ "^^ ^^"'"^'^ ^'°*^ ^ Protestant
^I tell you it is impossible. The marquise "
appeareu in the openmg.
" I am here, sire," she said.
de Maimenon!' '°''' ^""^ ^°''''^' '^^^ "^^^^"^er was madame
CHAPTER XI
A STATE SECRET
" Pardon, sire, for interrupting you and M. de Torcv " said
the marquise, " but I have a communication from Madrid
too important to delay for a moment. This is what the
pnncesse writes," and she handed a letter, bearing the seal of
madame des Ursins, to the king. ^ °*
The king took the letter rather indifferently. Madrid news
was usually unpleasant, and he had long ago been sick of the
very name of the Spanish succession. ^^^
"The messenger brings also a letter from the king of Spain
to your majesty," proceeded the marquise. - He had proposed
to present It through M. de Torcy. I ventured to reHeve the
marquis of the duty." relieve rne
M. de Torcy looked rather uneasy. But the marquise bv a
nod, gave him to understand that there was not^g to be
feared, and laid the second letter before the king ^
Louis broke the seal and read the letter. Arfexpression or
wonder and relief lit up his face. expression oi
"A miracle!" he murmured. "Pead marnnfc " o„^ u
passed the letter to de Torcy. ' "'^'^"''' ^nd he
It ran:
" Sire and revered grandfather
goryuuiciu vviiharaws irom the coalition **
fii': IP
■X il
^^ a "ffvent Squire
amounting to about a millinn anri { u u c ■ ?*" '"® Indies,
this sum 1^1 charge of tTie ^n? r ""'f."^ P'i'°'^'- ^^ P^^ce
serving as volunteer wh Me durde'Ve'n f"^"^""!f" ''^^'y
mended to us bv mJuLl J rV VendOme. and recom-
Philippe."
The marquis smiled at this diplomacy.
"What is all that ? " asked the marquise,
ine king gave an alarmed elance at da Tn,«. ,.i,- i, .■.
mm,ster understood perfectly will ^^' ^^'"'^ *=
your'hand°i ' '^°" ""' '^ => *" « '""^M bearing it*l^
sacTacinT'^f m™h t^" ''''"■"" ^^8"=' =" *' "iea of
prospealflTsswor'tyforthLT'*' ""' ""^'^"'™ ^' *^
sai'd^Sy-^-^iirtt^stj.?^^^"^'-' ^- -^^ T-^" ^"^
the' dector-thf ™inT !'fV'"'>°™'-'§'^ « '"■^ "-^i"--.
dictators in one lo^lith a baS "P'^ ■"'', '">P"°'-five
It is^ot dear besidesTwe ha^no'choi^^^'"^ *'°™ '"■
"S r» i^ • J money? •• asked the king.
Site, tt ,s on board sh.p at Calais. M.'cwynetthas had
■'f
people that
:e with your
for France,
1.
' be able to
the half of
the Indies,
We place
hmati lately
and recom-
itleman, an
understand
is intended
>ly keeping.
HILIPPE."
lifficult to
ley out of
renchman
f relished
aniards.
"Say a
• majesty
We are
'hich the
had not
borough,
ring it in
! idea of
I at the
•cy," she
{einsius,
or — five
own in.
has had
a ment Squire 77
some curious experiences while in charge of it, which deserve
recognition at your majesty's hands. Would your majesty
care to receive him ? He is waiting in the palace "
The king was rather pleased to hear of some variation from
his usual routine, which consisted of religious services and
of^bad news from every point of the compass in about equal
baZ'hLlil" ''' '" """' ""^"'^^'" ^^ ^^'^' '^--"S
Madame de Maintenon disappeared through ih^ portihes.
Ihe marquis had I)cen busying himself in calculating how
the three and a half millions of sprats could be made to
00^. like whales in the eyes of the state creditors. Finally,
he looked up, and said, ^'
cni fi'^' '^ '' °^, "'""'■'^ P°'''^'^ ^^^^ ^e may buy our pig and
still find our poke empty. Suppose M. de Marlborough takes
our money, and betrays us after all ? " ^
'•That would be too monstrous," said the king.
Without doubt. Nevertheless, if the duke hapnens to
behave too monstrously, what then ? " "appens to
innlcenUy^ ''""""^''^ '' "°' ^' '° •'""'" ""^^ '^^ '^^"g' ^^'^e
"Precisely my opinion, sire," agreed the marquis drily
Ba^cty."' """' '"' '""'^'^^ "°^ ^° ^^"P'd - G?andval o';
The king looked keenly at de Torcy. Grandval was a
^^h'"' ^^^^^'^Ployed in 1792 brthe marquis de Ba b^sleux
(the son and successor of Louvois), at the instigation of Louis
and James II. to assassinate William III. Grandval had
Wnllnn ' "' ^T ^^^V^ht, a couple of accomplices-Dumont a
Walloon, and Leefdale, a Dutchman. These worthies pr^mlv
betrayed their employer, who was tried, convicted a^dexecTed^
leaving behind him a full confession of the p lo^ which had
naturally annoyed Louis very much. On the other hand th.
assassination plot of Barclav in r-rnfi / k t • • ' ^"^
bv Tames TT inH ««i ^ . /^y '" ,^790 (which was instigated
beinrr.if ■ ° '^ ^T^^^ ^^ ^y Louis) had failed through
ev ta^^ir^result'^ t -" t ^'''^ T""'^ P^^^°"^' ^^^^^ the fn
tvitaoie result c. I.e ng betrayed three times over.
^^ 1 said nothing about that," said Louis.
Very good, sire. There is no hurrv But T wi^h T i,«^
a^m^an just fool enough to be ready to try'," an^d"not7ool Jnough
A knock was heard at the outer door of the cabinet Th*
marquis rose, went out, and returned with Gwynett '
' AS
78
a ftent Squire
"Sire," said he, "this is the gentleman who has been eood
enough to execute the comnmsion of madame des uS
to your majesty." '-rsmb
Gwynett bowed profoundly. The king looked at him for
a moment m silence wondering at the power, courage, and
dignity which seemed instinct in the magnificent form of
heVel7o':tl;Tstnd^^'"'^'"^" ^^'° ''^^' ^'^^ ^^^ ^^^n
"We are much in your debt, monsieur," said he, as Gwynett
knelt to kiss his hand, and then stepped back. '' Real! the
princesse knows how to choose a messenger, marquis " "
De Torcy just refrained from shrugging his shoulders One
handsome Englishman,' as Jack Churchill was cal ed Z
exce//en,ehad been enough for him. and he was not dispoS
o be enthusiastic over another. The king looked at the ktter
from madame des Ursins. "^'^
" You are well known to the princesse ? " he asked Gwynett
S.re I have had the good fortune to perform some triSin«
services for madame des Ursins, that is all." ^
" You have borne arms in Spain ? "
"Sire, M de Vendome was so good as to offer me a
company early in last winter "
'' VVhich you refused ? " said Louis, referring to the letter
in th f^T S"'^ 1° ^'^^^P'' '''^' ^hile an English army was
. ^^ K • u ^"' ^^.^ ^^y ^^'^'" ge^e^^J Stanhope's surrender
I went with the marshal as a volunteer " ^-urrenaer
.K ^^"^'?' Stanhope, commanding the English contingent of
the allied force in Spain, had been cut off from his Aus"r an
colleague general Starhemberg, and shut up in B huegT by
the due de Vendome, to whom he surrendered on December
loth, 1710 after fighting till all his ammunition was exhausted
The next day Vendome and Starhemberg met in the battle of
Jf h ^^^'°^^V^hich, although drawn, finally decided the fate
ltro7tain.^^'' ^"' '-'' '"''^'^ '' ^"^-^ -^'-^P-"
said th^e'^kTng"" ^°°^ ^""'^ '" °'"" ^'^^^ "^'^^^'^ °^ ^'^"^ ^^^^o^a ? "
" I was at Villa Viciosa, sire."
the\X TXhlsm'^' "P' ^"' ^°°^ ^^^ ''^-^y °^ -"tinuing
wajntg'imonaiion?' ' "''"^' "°"^'^"^'" '^ ^^^''' -^^ ^
"Well, M. le marquis." said Gwynett, who saw nothing to
brag about in the affair, "we did not come off very wSf !n
1
a "Rent Squire
79
been good
des Ursins
at him for
urage, and
It form of
im. Then
IS Gwynctt
Reall . , the
s."
lers. One
called par
>t disposed
t the letter
I Gwynett.
me trifling
?er me a
e letter,
army was
surrender
tingent of
1 Austrian
huega by
December
xhausted.
battle of
1 the fate
idisputed
^iciosa ? "
intinuing
i, with a
)thing to
well, in
my opinion. It is true general Starhemberg retreated to
Barcelona after the fight, but I'm sure I never understood
why."
The king looked curiously at this young man, who took
so little trouble to speak smooth things in royal ears.
"Here is someone," he thought to himself, "whose opinion
about my grandson will be worth having." He proceeded
aloud,
"And how did you leave the duke? Was his appetite
as good as ever?"
" Better, sire."
"/*«/<?/ he will burst himself before he comes bach," said
the kmg. As a matter of fact, the illustrious great-grandson
of Henri IV. and Gabrielle d'Estrdes ' illed himself by over-
eating within six months of the king's prophecy, greatly to the
grief of his soldiers, amongst whom he had distributed the
half-million of livres given him by the grateful Philippe.
"You have been in Madrid as well as the provinces? " went
on the king.
" Yes, sire."
"For long?"
" About five months, sire."
"And in the country altogether?"
"Nearly a year, sire."
"Is the king popular?
" Thoroughly, sire."
" Everywhere ? "
" Everywhere, sire."
"He has managed matters pretty well, you think?"
Gwynett cast about for a phrase that would not unduly
compliment the half-witted Philippe V.
"Matters have been very well managed, sire— so far as I
could judge."
The marquis smiled. The king caught the smile, and asked
sharply,
" How, monsieur ? "
"Sire, your majesty has always known how to find able
servants.'
" Good," said the marquis to himself.
Everybody knew that Louis had formerly not only detested
madarne des Ursins, but had peremptorily recalled her from
"""aIv ■ ,''^^""^'^ "I >vnac he considered her officious
meddling with affairs of state. It is true he had been won
over by her irresistible manners, and had sent her back with
8o
a Ikent Squire
1;^ ■
;!ii
«i
U ii
fuller powers than before. But this was only because he found
his grandson's throne was not worth six weeks' nurchasp
without her. ^
" Frenchmen are unfortunately not welcome in Spain " said
battles"^' " ^'"'''^^ ''''''''' ^^^^ ^'^ ^"'^"^ ''' ^^^*'"S Spanish
" It was a great inspiration of your majesty to send a
Frenchwoman, sire, who keeps very much alive," hazarded
Gwynett.
"Very good," thought the marquis. "Decidedly this is a
sharp fellow,"
" You are a great champion of the princesse, it appears
monsieur, said the king, without any appearance of dissatis-
laction.
"Her highness has always been extremely kind to me,
oil C^a
The king referred again to the letter.
"She had you at court a short time, I hear."
" Yes, sire."
"Why?"
" Sire, wher. the princesse honoured me with this commission
the galleons had not yet arrived from Mexico, and I had to
wait. Unfortunately, the Spaniards, while they dislike all
foreigners, hate the English like poison, and it was troublesome
to live in Madrid.
" Did they make you uncomfortable ? "
"Very much so, sire. I was stabbed twice, shot at four
times, and had to fight seven duels, in the first fortni^rht "
Good Lord ! " said the king, who began to be interested.
How did you manage to come off with a whole skin ? "
Sire, after the first knife-thrust, which only scratched me
I always wore a very nice shirt of steel rings given me bv
an uncle of mine, who had received it as a present from
Ferdinand Gonzaga. Then, it happened that the gentlemen
who fired at me were very bad shots -at least, I presume so."
Perhaps they got their powder from a government con-
tractor," said de Torcy, soUo voce.
"And the duels?"
-hlnce^' '" ^^'^^ °^ ^^^^ ^ '^"^ '''"'^^' ^^ ^°°" ^^ ^ sot the
One of his rare smiles passed across the king's face
" How was that ? " he nsked.
" Well, sire I had no seconds~in fact, they were affairs on
the spur of the moment ; and my antagonists had friends who
:) I
.^
a Ikent Squire
8i
e he found
purchase
pain," said
g Spanish
send a
hazarded
this is a
t appears,
>f dissatis-
d to me,
had a habit of getting too much behind one.
was a wall near, that was very inconvenient."
Unless there
amission,
I had to
islike all
ublesome
t at four
;ht."
iterested.
?"
^hed me,
1 me by
2nt from
intlemen
ume so."
ent con-
got the
fifairs on
nds who
"Doubtless — and the other four?"
" As to the three first, sire, there was no trouble. In the
last, I slipped on a stone as my opponent was making a pass,
and received his thrust through my sword-arm."
" Ah ! and then ? "
"Before he could disengage, sire, I knocked him down
with my left fist. Then I picked up my sword and went away.
I understood he was found there afterwards, but whether he
was killed with the blow or the fall I don't know. After this,
the princesse was good enough to ask me to occupy a room'
at the Escurial, to prevent accidents."
"And how did you like living in the palace?"
" Well, sire," replied Gwynett, who had never felt so much
bored in his life as during the period in question, " there is a
medium in all things. On half a dozen occasions, for instance,
I have had reason to be extreme^ thankful that the ditch I
had to sleep in was a dry one."
" Do you hear that, de Torcy ? " said Louis. " This gentle-
man and I have a good deal the advantage of you in
experiences."
This was an allusio.. j the king's early youth, burnt in upon
his memory, when Mazarin kept him in rags, without fires in
winter, and provided with food just on a par with that of the
royal scullions. Earlier in his reign this reminiscence used to
fill him with fury. Now the sting of it seemed to have died
out. He turned again to Gwynett, who was by this time
beginning to be doubtful whether his weakness would permit
him to keep on his legs much longer.
"Something has been said about your recent voyage
monsieur," said the king. "You had some difficulty in
reaching Calais with this F/eitr de Lys of yours ? "
II Yes, sire," replied Gwynett, unable to help giving a lurch.
^^ V^ hat IS the matter ? " asked de Torcy, catching hold of him.
A thousand pardons, sire— but if your majesty will kindly
allow me to lean against M. de Torcy's chair "
At this instant madame de Maintenon appeared between
the portieres. Perhaps she had been listening to the con-
versation.
'j Sire," said she, " M, Gwynett has been at death's door,
aiiu IS stiii very weak."
"Sit down, monsieur," said the king, not unkindly. "Some
wme, de Torcy."
82
a ikent Squire
n. J^f T '''It.'?''^^^'^'"^'^ P^^'^^ 0^ consideration on the
part of Louis XIV. Twenty years before, his majesty would
have thought ,t simply monstrous if anyone should permit
himself to be otherwise than perfectly well in the royal presence
Now that he had fallen upon evil days, the crust of his ineffable
ocn rrP?\ K '"l" ^"'"r^^^t broken into, and it occasionally
occurred to him to make allowance for infirmities which
feTbtherhi^^^^^^^^ ""^'^'''^'^-^ ^'^ --^"^^ ->d
"Here is a young fellow who gets on quickly," he said to
himself, as he reached over for the tall Venice-glass flagon
which contained the king's favourite white LachrymrcSi
and poured out a glass for Gwynett. The latter had sunkbto
the nearest chair, nearly unconscious, but the rich sacramental
wine revived him immediately. 'turdmeniai
rJ ^iJ^P^ ^- gwynett desires his majesty's permission to
retire ? " suggested the marquise, who, like madame des U?sins
was not too old to entertain a sneaking kindness for such a
preux chevalier as our hero.
"Not at all, madame," replied Gwynett. "If his maiestv
will pardon a passing weakness, I am quite at his serv ce "
And he rose again to his feet ='crvice.
monSu'JT'' Thl' "^7"'" ^^f 'u^ ''^"S- " ^^""^ '' good wine,
monsieur? The only good thing one gets from having the
crown ofSpam in one's family." ^'tvxng me
The reader who is learned in vintages will recollect that the
wine m question comes from Monte Somma, near Vesuvius
and consequently m the kingdom of Naples, which constitS
part of the Spanish empire till the treaty of Utrecht, in iVi,
assigned it to the house of Austria. ' ^'
hZ-'^^^u-^'^fr ^bou^your voyage?" proceeded the king,
helping himself to a glass. ^'
"It was very unlucky, sire. But for the fact that I was
much accustomed to the sea as a boy, I certainly should have
failed in my commission to your majesty "
h.M^^^^K^ 1^-^ Maintenon, who had seated herself a little
behind the king, gave Gwynett a signal to go on. Our hero
who was very desirous not to bore the king before he had a
Story ' " '"'' ^"'"'^^ "" ^'' own'account, resumed
"I was directed to join the brig at Cadiz, sire, and we set
to he"' '* ''''' '"" ""'" '"^ '^' ^"P^^'"' ^^o belonged
" Spaniards ? "
a Ikent Squire
83
tion on the
ajesty would
ould permit
yal presence,
his ineffable
occasionally
nities which
arquis could
he said to
glass flagon
'mae Christi,
id sunk into
sacramental
;rmission to
des Ursins,
for such a
his majesty
lis service."
good wine,
having the
!ct that the
' Vesuvius,
constituted
It, in 1 7 13,
the king,
hat I was
lould have
:lf a little
Our hero,
2 he had a
:, resumed
nd we set
belonged
Impossible to say, sire. They belonged to any nationality
that was convenient for their usual avocafon."
" A' I and that was ? "
'' ' 'i .ggling, sire, when it was not piracy."
"1 vateers, perhaps, monsieur?"
" That sounds better, sire, no doubt."
" Go on."
" Off Ferrol, sire, it began to blow a hurricane, and the
crew took to praying before their principal madonna."
"Thus they could hardly have been pirates, monsieur"
mterpolated the marquise. '
" Piety is to be lauded, in any walk of life," said the king
who felt obliged to be in the fashion.
"Without doubt, sire. At the same time, a little seaman-
ship would not have been out of place. While they were on
their knees, a tremendous sea came over the bows, and four
men were swept overboard. The next day the captain and
another man were so badly hurt by a falling spar that they died
within twelve hours." / "
" Dear ! dear ! that's six out of seven," observed the king.
Yes, sire. The mate and I had the ship on our hands
for a couple of days, and then he fell sick. From that time
1 had to work the brig single-handed."
" But such a thing is impossible," said the king
" Quite so, sire— therefore I did not attempt it. Luckily
the wind was steady from the sou-h-west and not at all rough "
The finger of Providence," remarked the marquise
Owynett bowed and went on.
" All I had to do, sire, was to leave the sails as they were
and stick to the wheel." ' '
" With no help from the mate ? "
''On the contrary, sire, he had to be nursed— in fact, he
died when we were entering the Channel."
" And when did you sleep ? "
" There was no opportunity of sleeping sire "
^^^'^' Bless my soul ! " said the king. " And how long did that
"About ten days, sire."
ii A"f ^^^ ^°" ^^^ "° P^^^'"g sh'P that could assist you ? "
.nH ?h"/ °"^' '''^' u^*'^' ^^^^ ^"y opportunity of speaking,
and that was worse than nothing at all—PvrPnf tLt T pot ^^]f
an hour's sleep." *■■ " '"""" ^ ^^^ "^^^
..iSf^ f^""!"? ^^^^^i'^^ ^'^ experiences with the Dutch
gahot, of which mention has already been made in this
84
:S '
Iti.
H ikent Squire
arrivaf'arCaSs"^ "^ ^^ narrating the circumstances of his
"Monsieur," said madame de Maintenon, with her air of
devote, your escape was nuraculous, and due to a direct
interposition of providence. I trust you have recognised that ? »
Certainly, madame," replied Gwynett, wondering what
view the captain and crew of the Fleur de Lys took of the
matter,
" We have a report from M. Daguerre, sire," said de Torcy
but I have not yet opened it." ^'
"It will keep," said Louis. "You have done well, M.
Owynet^ and have aid us under greater obligations than we
are at liberty to explain ; » and the king bowed graciously
Wonders will never cease," thought de Torcy, who had had
occasion to find out how rarely Louis XIV. had the grace to
appreciate courage and endurance displayed in his service
fh.; T^" '^^"T^"^ ^^^ y'""^^ ^°^' ^"d began to hope' that
these fine speeches might be taken as an encouragement to
make the request he had m petto. ^
"If we can express our thanks in anything better than
show\sTo ""' P""''^' ^'^ ''"^' '>" ^-^ °"^y "
The marquis coughed, and looked at madame de Maintenon
He began to tremble lest the precious cargo of the Fleur
deLys should be diminished even by a handful of crowns
The marquise smiled imperceptibly in return
-'s^-ro'' Inir^^r ^° '1i' u ^/^^ "°'^'"g'" ^he said to herself,
a faviu;-!!?" ^'^ ' ^'°"' ™^J''^y P'™'^' "^^ to ask
" Speak, monsieur," said the king.
vLttT ^^^^^" ^^^'' ^S°' '^'■^' '°"^^ fr'ends of mine in
England experienced a great misfortune. The head of their
family suddenly disappeared. On a certain day he was unde
stood to have left Dover with the intention of visiting France
and he has not been heard of since. If anything ^coud be
learned of his fate, through any channels of inquiry open to
your majesty's officials, it would be a great consolation^ the
surviving members of his family."
" What was his name ? "
" Randolph Dorrington, sire."
"Marquis, will you see to this?" said the kine « Rll^ fhof
»s not all, M. Gwynett ? " ^' """^ '"^^
This was evidently an invitation to put a price on a service
rendered. The receipt of pay from the French court had
'9'A
B Ikent Squire
8s
ices of his
her air of
o a direct
ised that ? "
;ring what
ook of the
de Torcy,
: well, M.
s than we
ously.
had had
' grace to
:rvice.
hope that
?ement to
itter than
1 only to
[aintenon.
the J^/eur
f crowns.
to herself,
me to ask
mine in
1 of their
as under-
; France,
could be
open to
n to the
But that
I service
)urt had
been quite the fashion amongst public men in England for the
last forty years. But Gwynett'ti stomach had always been too
squeamish to allow of him accepting anything of the sort from
anybody. Consequently he cast about for a form of refusal
which would avoid giving olTen:e.
"Sire," said he, bowing, "when your majesty accords me
your approbation, you have accorded me everything."
Madame de Maintenon perfectly divined this scruple, and
was visited by an idea.
" It appears to me, your majesty," said she, " that M. Gwynett
must at present have rather uncomfortable recollections of
this vessel, the F/eur de Lys, which he has brought to your
majesty from madame des Ursins. Will your majesty ask his
acceptance of the ship he has navigated so skilfully and so
courageously, so that in the future he may have some more
agreeable associations connected with it ? "
The king looked rather pleased at this cheap way of recom-
pensing our hero, and probably guessed the reason of its being
suggested. ^
" Marquise," said he, " if you were to offer it to monsieur
yourself " and he looked inquiringly at Gwynett.
The latter saw no reason why he should not take something
which now apparently belonged to nobody, and which could
be turned into cash at the first convenient opportunity.
"Sire," said he, "the marquise will overwhelm me with
gratitude by enabling me to cherish a memento at once of
herself, of your majesty, and of my good friend madame
des Ursins."
"The priiicesse will please us every time she charges you
with a commission to us, monsieur. And we will have every
possible inquiry made about your misr'ng compatriot."
Gwynett recognised this as a dismissal.
"I beg your majesty to accept my most earnest thanks,"
said he, kneeling to kiss the king's hand.
"Farewell, monsieur," said Louis very affably. Madame
de Maintenon bowed and smiled pleasantly, and de Torcv
led Gwynett out of the cabinet.
" Do me the favour to wait a {m minutes for me, monsieur."
he said.
Gwynett sat down in the ante-chamber, and de Torcv re-
entered the cabinet.
'\ Marquis," said the king, " you must see the duke without
losing a moment."
"Evidently, sire," replied de Torcy, groaning in spirit at
li
i'li
86
a Ikent Squire
A^^ l'°^P^^} of a week's posting in November. " M de
Marlborough may leave the Hague any day. I shall set out
m wo hours and take M. Gwynett with me. I must get him
to brmg the br.g on to Dunkerque-it will be so much nearer
scneveningeii, if we arrange matters."
Ml^nf.n"'^'"^''' gathered up his papers, saluted madame de
Mamtenon anc the kmg, and made for the door.
ay the wa>, s:re," he said, stopping, "I am somewhat
cunous about this missing M. Dorrington'.' Did your majesty
Dy chance ever sign a /ef^re de cachet about him ? "
Ihe kmg, who had signed more than nine thousand in the
course of his reign, looked rather surprised.
^^ Good Lord ! how should I know ? " .said he
. Very true," murmured de Torcy. « Well, good day. sire-
wish me success." > b ^^ uay, birc
And the marquis went out.
CHAPTER XII
IN WHICH M. DE TORCV ASKS A GOOD MANY QUESTIONS
GwvNETT rose as M. de Torcy entered the ante-chamber and
took up his hat and cloak. '^'"ucr, ana
" My dear M Gwynett," said the marquis, » what are your
arrangements at Versailles ? " ^
** I have none, monsieur."
" You are at liberty to return to Calais ? "
SJ ^.^^ \^r°"VI° ^^ '°' *° P"""'"^ ^0"^^ inquiries of my own
respecting Mr. Dorrington." ^
" Then do me two favours, monsieur."
^'1 Anything in my power, M. le marquis."
.r.A r f • '""'^T "'''' """"^ ^''^^ ""^ y°"'' company between here
and Calais. I am setting off in a couple of hours."
^^ Witn great pleasure, monsieur."
" Come to my apartments, then."
The marquis led Gwynett through the outer ante-chamber
Here they found Gaultier, returned from the stables and
kicking his heels in a very sulky frame of mind. The marqSs
met him as he came forward. marquis
1UUK4 ' "rpT- — ' na,e D^en ncpt waning for nothing, M.
Lc^ t^/r h^' ''Ti°K-^' ^' ^ standstill-so much so, in
fact, that I have asked his majesty's permission to go and
U ftent Siiuire
«7
spend a few days on my estates in Picardy, which I have been
obliged to neglect a little of late. When I return, we may
have occasion to ask your good offices — if you think of remain-
ing so long in France ? "
Gaultier bowed rather discontentedly.
•' It is possible, M. le marquis," said he. " Unless "
But the marquis had by this time passed on with Gwynett,
who had not noticed the abb^. Gaultier looked after the
pair with a suspicious glance.
" Who is this ? " he muttered to himself. ** A M. Menager
number two ? The deuce take me if they are not putting me
on the shelf altogether! Picardy estates? In November?
£>ame I no— it is some trick. I may as well report this to
lord Oxford. It would not be amiss to go after him if one
could keep sufficiently out of sight."
Vhen the marquis reached the wing of the palace which
he occupied when not at his hotel in Paris, he rang for his
secretary and his major-domo. The latter appeared first.
" M. Gwynett dines with me," said the marquis. " Give
us whatever you can in ten minutes. Let Moritz show
monsieur to my . dressing-room, give him what changes he
requires, and fill a valise for him."
The major-domo put Gwynett in charge of the minister's
Swiss valet, who helped him to make a refreshing toilet— the
first smce he had left Calais thirty hours before. In the
meantime the secretary had arrived. This was M. Rend de
Lavalaye, nephew to the marquis, a precise young man, who
could hold his tongue in four or five languages, and was
therefore particularly useful to a secretary of state for foreien
anairs. °
" Is the notary in the palace, Rend ?" asked ±e marquis.
"I have just left him."
"Send for him."
The secretary opened the door, gave an order, and returned.
I am going to Flanders, Rend. I shall want you to go in
advance ventre a terre. How long can you keep in the saddle.
With SIX hours' rest occasionally ? "
!! ^ay three days— you know I am rather nsty just now "
Ihat will be more than enough. You can be at the
Hague in forty-eight hours— then you can go to bed for
another forty-eight, if you like."
" I shall want a safe-conduct at the outposts."
"I have two ready in blank— they were intended for
Pohgnac and d'Uxelles, if we had not broken off negotiations."
88
a "ftent Squire
M I]
t.I\ln^ct envfyf ^^.f ^ --^chal d'Uxelles were the
been held not lon^beft .'^,^ P^^f .jonjerences which had
But these eenUemenhoH K ^^'^'"'^^"''^'■S' "^ar Antwerp.
negotS^ha Touis XT^^^^^^ T." ^^ ^^e Dutch
n.£;' ;e!!tt^he^r,.;•: ^askt.tfr^\^^ ^'^
Antwerp, if possible. I shall follow a fastTs ? Sn h'"' "'
of Calais— /«f,;^;;//^, of course Tf fht J 1 ^^"' ^y ^^y
Hague, you nfust ^rrang^e fS me to see Wm''""°' 'T ^'"
that neighbourhood. In any C^e tell hL i^ • T^-'^!f^ '"
should not leave for EnglanZiJfwe haie m"et." '^ '"'"'^^ '^
^ Suppose he has already left ? "
'^You must go after him."
'«* J° London, for instance ? "
Certainly. Ah ! here is the notary."
Ihis functionary advanced to the table
deed^'g'ifrSw.'iroinf hi^' i";./°i'° ^-^ "p."
person, in blank ? " majesty s ships on a certain
"I could have it ready by tomorrow, M. le marauis "
the ship lor two monfh«; fZ o V- majesty charters
.o^be/opeH. iratV^';. rcHaS,! ^1?e^;, f *
'•Mi. ^'^^^.'^"'^"^o'^ent the major-domo returned
anH Ih Gwynett_no, here he comes. Now monsieur »
doing the dorishe%asSZt' '" '"'"'""''• '"' -«-^.
ra.he?in''a"hL''TS'w':a-i' ''^ '"'"T^' "^ "^^ "->
hurry. But as 1 have .T .. vf °'"u^ '° "^ ""* """•« '■> a
neve? hurry^rm'eawLr W^hTv^'lJ^f^i^ £f ™^ '''''■ i
my servant here is stone-deaf l7, f^ » ? j T "'• """^
— „„ _ ,o svaiiuw iur the next week or ten days " '
Vou are gomg a journey then, monsieur, beyond Calais?"
a Ikent Squtrc 89
«< An !v 7 "^'^ not happen even to look at him."
An exceedingly choice scoundrel, in strict confidence
IVe can use him, but I'm afraid you could not-and he k
only fit to be made use of. Don't be seen in ?he same stree
with him. If you can avoid it. Yes, I am runnine down to
my estates perhaps a little farther, if we have fini welther
And I shall not get a decent meal ill I get back a/ain Vn ,'
are not old enough to know what that reaUy means Ostriches
and young people have several things in commor^'' "
1 here are worse things than horseflesh, monsieur" said
Gwynett, "when the provision-convoys have been three da^
late in reaching camp." ^ "^^^
"Horrible! I served three years with Luxembourg and
we did our share of fighting. But, thank heaven and M
Louvois we always got something to eat and drTnk I take
off my ha to any man who can fight on an emmy stomlch
Your health, monsieur, and every good fortune '' and^ the
marquis bowed solemnly as he drank ««Vnn mnc? k
.avened a good deal i„^ France t%a^ ou." l^^.,^ll
and t'iS'wt tr„othi„1 1^ ™"^ ^-''^ '" ^"^'"y
'' Still, m Spain that would not help you far "
Spanish is not difficult to learn, m^onsieur.'"
And m Germany ? "
Gwyiil^Ld^^c^q^^^^^^^^^^^
university and wi?h it an emir^^^lbn^X^ L tL "^^^^^^^^^^
^^t,\^n:ri^^^^^^^^ °'^^^ city7nr69fa?^'r
thetically. ^^' ^^^ ""''^"'^ "^^ded sympa-
wa: t^^fTmSuf bSS"' tliv'ri^r T.' '''''ll^^'^
afterwards, certainly made France feared ^^^^i^"'''''^°"'^
now for the way they made uThatd '' ^"' ^' ^'' P^>""S
"Wen wein Th'^J^ 'r^'"''^^^"^ y°"' ^"onsieur."
"Three Tear, t"'^ ^7.^'^ ^''' ^^^ ^' Heidelberg ?«
» ; '^^^^ y^a^s. I went there at seventeen "
1 suppose you fought ? "
"Of course."
" How often ? "
90
a Ikent Squire
" I forget, monsieur. After the first year I lost count "
'Teste! you must be a fair blade. I don't see a scratch on
you."
" It happened, M. le marquis, that I was brought up by an
uncle, who was— and is, indeed— one of the first swordsmen
in Europe. He made my fencing his principal hobby from
the time I was a child— in fact, I scarcely recollect when I
could not handle a sword."
" And who was this good uncle ? "
"My mother's brother, the baron von Starhemberg— a cousin
of the general." °
The marquis pricked up his ears at this.
" Indeed ! and may I ask what is your rank in England? "
None, monsieur. I have a small patrimony— an estate
which has been in my family since the Reformation."
"Then you are noble," said the marquis, accustomed to
continental claims to that distinction.
"Not at all, monsieur— only what we call in England a
squire. ^
" But your mother was noble, and you inherit the territorial
estate of your family," objected the puzzled marquis
" That does not count at all in England."
"So much the worse for you, my dear M. Gwynett. We
have nobles like the sands of the sea for multitude with worse
credentials than yours."
"My uncle has repeatedly pressed me to become a Bavarian *
suDject, so that he could adopt me formally and thus secure
me the title. But I have failed to see the inducement, so
far. '
The marquis shrugged his shoulders.
"Perhaps you are right," said he. "So you have been a
great fighter?"
" Not in the least, monsieur. I studied to become an expert
swordsman more to please my uncle than myself— I would
have preferred to spend the time in a dozen other things."
" Nevertheless, I daresay you have found it a useful enough
accomplishment at times. But how came you, as a relative of
general von Starhemberg, to be with M. le due de Vendome ?"
" Well, monsieur, after my three years at Heidelberg, and
a year in England on my property, my uncle sert for me to
hunt with him in the Black Forest. While I was living with
him he had a great quarrel with his cousin the general, and
a great
Bavaria."
^conciliation with his old enemy the elector of
If
a Kent Squire
91
" Ah ! I recollect him now— he married some fortieth cousin
of the elector. They used to talk of some demon of a fencer
at Munich when I was there for the funeral of the electoral
.•rince, but his name had slipped from my memory And
hov did you fare with the baron ? "
" Exceedingly well, monsieur. We made a compromise."
"A compromise?"
"Yes, monsieur. You see, my uncle had inherited a
magnificent library, of which he thought nothing, and I every-
thing. We usually spent the fine days in hunting, but he was
always annoyed when I went to the library in rainy weather.
So, to smooth matters, I agreed to fence with him every wet
morning, in order to be free of the library every wet afternoon."
" And how did you come off with the foils on these wet
mornings ? "
" We were about equal, monsieur— perhaps, latterly, I had
a little the advantage."
" Pardieti ! And what did you do at night ? "
"My uncle had a good workshop, and we used to work
in iron and wood, turning, fitting, carpentering, and half a
dozen trades. I found that very useful when we lost the two
gunsmiths of my regiment at Villa Viciosa. When we were
tired of the bench and the anvil, we had a little pistol practice,
and fired at a candle at twenty, thirty, or fifty paces. Latterly
we busied ourselves with chemistry."
The marquis stared, and then sighed.
" My dear M. Gwynett, there are very few people I envy,
but, upon my soul, I think you are the most enviable young
fellow on earth. To have health, youth, energy, and a
small competence— to mix with all ranks, and belong to the
most convenient— to have leisure, and be able to occupy it
pleasantly— to do many things, and do them all well— whv. I
tell you " ^
The marquis stopped and filled his glass.
" I drink to the postponement of your bad luck, my young
friend— for, mark me, you are too fortunate. By all the rules
of chance, some hideous disaster awaits you. Salut ! M.
Polycrates." And the marquis drained his glass with a
philosophic air.
Gwynett acknowledged the compliment, which might have
been a more exhilarating one, and asked, laughing.
rrnas. am x. lu cunsiga lu uie uoiiom 01 the sea, M. ie
marquis, as you take the part of king Amasis ? "
" Anything but the Fleur de Lys, my friend— at least, until
92
H •Rent Squire
we have done with her. By the way, you know what she
fames, of course ? "
"Cases of silver, I understand."
" Do yo4 happen to know how many ? "
" Forty."
" Where are they ? "
"Behind the shearhinK' of the brig, below the captain's
cabin As a matter of fact, they are built into th.^ shin's
side. ''
'How are we to get them? Is there the usual hatch
down into the after- * old?"
"It is at present ..lade solid with the floor, monsieur,
iiut there is also a door into the lazarette from the hold—
a secret door. The cases were taken in that way to save
disturbing the cabin floor."
•' A secret door ? Good Lord ! what for ? "
" It was a fancy of Jie captain's, monsieur. He was the
owner of the brig before it was bought for this particular
ScrVlCCa
"What on earth did the fellow want with a secret door?
Did he want to perform melodramas in his hold?"
"It happened in this way, monsieur— at least, so he told me
In his profession "
"Of what?"
" Smuggler, monsiem."
" To be sure — go on."
" He had occasion to carry French goods to Barcelona
and used to fly the French flag. One day, when he came
into port as usual, he was boarded by the people of the
archduke, who had occupied Barcelona while he was en
voyage"
"Thanks to that inspired lunatic, your lord Peterborough
,, ?.?' ^? "^^ archduke," remarked the marquis parenthetically.'
1 he Austrians were very anxious to hang him as a spy but
he managed to escape by the skin of his teeth. As business
was very brisk, he determined to keep up his voyages to
liarcelona, but took care on his next visit to show Austrian
colours. Unfortunately, without his knowing it, the king
had just commenced to invest the town on the land side
and the padrone m the dark anchored alon:s>Vle one of the
ships of the comte de ^^oulouse, who was loubaiding Bar
celona from the sea. in the morning t';^ ' -t-^, : jph fir«,.
on him. He hid in an empty barrel" in tne nold when the
comte sent an officer on board. This officer could not
-^r
i
i
U.fkcnt Squtrc 93
understand much Catalan, and the padrone's men had the
address to bamboozle him compleM. ^nd send him back
saished. The p. irone landed his .', ., and was about to
set sail, flymg J' reach colours from stem to stern, when it
' ame on a thick fog. As soon as it lifted a little, he started,
but found himself alongside some warships he did not quite
recognise, hy ,11 luck, t!- comte had departed, .nd the
newcomers were ihe English fleet under vice-admiral F.eak.
Ihe vice-admiral sent a boat's crew to board him, and as he
had no barrel to hide in this time, he slipped overboard and
swam ashore, leaving his men to apologise for his absence on
business in the least intelligible way they could. Fortunatelv. the
admiral did not think the brig worth appropriating and sailed
the next day on the expedition to Minorca."
yihof'^"^^ '^ ^*^^^^ ^^""^ padrone managed very well, on the
"True, monsieur. Nevertheless, he found these political
changes very embarrassing, so he at once set about making
a little door in the bulkhead between the hold and the
lazarette under his cabin. His idea was that the next time
he was to be interviewed in a hostile spirit, he could hide in
the hold while his cabin was searched, and grt back to the
cabin when they looked into the hold."
"And did he ever use it ? " asked the marquis.
I believe only once."
" Was it to escape the French or the Austrians "
" Neither, monsieur. One day at Marseilles, w en he was
entertaining some lady friends, his wife came on board
unexpectedly "
A knock was heard at the door, and M. de Lavalaye
en ered, boo.ed and spurred, and holding a sheaf of i ipers
These are the deed and the charter-mem. randum,
monsieur," said he. •
" Good. Are you ready ? "
" Quite, monsieur."
" Let me have one of those safe conducts "
M de Lavalaye took the keys which the marquis ht!d out.
went to a desk, and took out a document coverec with
seals of all colours M. de Torcy filled in some h tanks,
signed his name, and handed the paper back to the sec-tary
lie sure to get someone who speaks Walloon, as soon
as you arc over tne frontier,^' said he, "and let him co all
the talking. I was within an ace of being shot last year
on account of my Parisian accent. Some of these Dutch
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sentinels have a trick of firing first and inquiring afterwards,
so be modest and retiring, and send your man first wlien
you come to an outpost. Wliat money are you taking ? "
" Half in louis d'or, and half in English guineas," replied
Lavalaye, handing the marquis a memorandum.
"Very well. Before you go, I make you acquainted with
the sieur Gwynett. At any time I am not in Paris do him
what services you can. My nephew, Rene de Lavalaye,
M. Gwynett."
"The fiance, evidently," said Gwynett to himself, as he
returned the other's bow. " I was charged, monsieur, to
convey to you the compliments of M. Daguerre and of
mademoiselle Victoire, when I left them to travel here."
" You are very obliging, monsieur," replied Lavalaye
solemnly.
"Be off now, Rene," said the marquis, "and a lucky
journey to you. We meet at Antwerp."
" The same place as before ? "
" Yes, if they will condescend to entertain a mere minister
of France," said the marquis, who was still sore at his snubbing
in Holland.
"Good day, M. Gwynett ; au revoir, M. le marquis." And
the secretary departed.
" Now, will you kindly fill up these papers, M. Gwynett ? "
said the marquis, opening out the two documents prepared
by the notary.
Gwynett looked over them. One ras a formal transfer
of the brig Flcur de Lys, the property of his most gracious,
etc., etc., to the sieur Ambrose Gwynett, of etc., etc. The
other was a contract to hire the said brig to his majesty for
the term of two months, at a rate of fifty louis per month.
" Payable in advance, if you have no objection, monsieur ? "
said the marquis.
Gwynett felt as if he had been a Httle tricked into accepting
what he had formally refused. But he thought it would
appear churlish to make any more fuss about the matter,
and therefore signified his acquiescence.
" Where shall the brig be delivered to you ? at Calais ? "
" Calais will do very well, monsieur, unless by chance peace
should be made — of which, of course, you are the best judge."
"Then she shall be sent to Dover. T.-'.ke the deeds,
monsieur, and fill in the blanks. I have now only to set
M. d'Argenson at work about your M. Dorrington. When
that is done, if you are ready, we will make a start."
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a Ikent Squire 95
While Gwynett followed the minister's instructions, the
latter wrote a note and rang his bell. The major-domo
entered, and the marquis handed him the note.
"For M. d'Argenson, the lieutenant-general of police," he
The major-domo bowed, and took the note.
" The carriages ready ? "
" They wait, M. le marquis."
"I am at your service, M. Gwynett."
The marquis and Gwynett descended to the courtyard,
where two travelling-carriages were drawn up. In the first
of these were seated the minister's assistant secretary, his
valet, and his chef. M. de Torcy motioned Gwynett to a
seat in the second carriage, and got in after him.
Otif! said he ruefully, as he pulled the rug over his
knees, and wrapped an enormous scarf round his neck, "my
dear friend, if you are ever given the choice between being
a mmister of state or a galley-slave, go to the galleys. You
will enjoy yourself quite as much, I give you my word of
honour, and you will find it a good deal cheaper."
He nodded through the window to the major-domo, the
coachman whipped up his horses, and the party started on
their journey. '
CHAPTER Xni
AMBROSE GWYNETT DOES A LITTLE CARPENTRY
As the marquis considered it injurious to the lungs to talk
out of doors m November, and as Gwynett was still feeling
his \yeeks watch on the brig somewhat severely, both the
travellers did very little else but eat and sleep on the way to
Calais. It was morning when they entered the town, and
the marquis drove direct to the house of the governor M
Daguerre. Here they learned that the brig was still under
seal and guard and that nothing had transpired since Gwynett
left for Versailles. The governor offered the hospitality of his
"iT^iru --0— • -V i-.ac!ii5 biciiviusL uciurc his guests.
Whom have you placed on board, my dear governor ? "
asked the marquis, as they :at down.
"A corporal and five of my Swiss, M. le marquis-the
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safest half-dozen I could pick anywhere, as I understood from
M. Gwynett the matter was of urgent consequence."
*' Can you find a sh^^'s carpenter for us without any
fuss?"
" There is one on board now."
" That's lucky. By the way, M. Gwynett, can you, by
exercising one of your accomplishments, enable us to keep
this matter amongst ourselves?"
" In what way, monsieur? "
"Can you use the carpenter's tools to get at the con-
signment?"
" Certainly."
" Will you do us the great favour to do so ? "
" With pleasure."
"Excellent! My dear Daguerre, our friend is a man of
all the talents. I have yet to find out what he cannot do or
doesn't know."
M. Daguerre looked rather surprised at the minister's
eulogies. Gwynett laughed.
" At all events, M. Daguerre," said he, " I cannot forget
your kindness, and do not know how to thank you sufficiently
for it. I trust mademoiselle is quite well ? "
" Perfectly. She is out at present, but I have ordered thai
she shall be told of your arrival when she returns."
At this moment the door opened, and Victoire entered.
Gwynett rose, as the young girl looked at him racher
hesitatingly.
" My dear," said the governor, " this is M. Gwynett returned
from Versailles."
" And better able to thank you for your extreme goodness
than he was before, mademoiselle," said Gwynett, bowing.
Victoire came forward with a little blush. '
"Monsieur looks so much — so different, I mean — that I
was not quite sure it was he," said she, turning to bow to
de Torcy.
" My daughter Victoire, marquis," said the governor.
The marquis bowed with infinite grace and a highly
appreciative smile.
"Mademoiselle is happily named," said he. "In peace
or war she will be all-conquering."
" Tut ! tut ! " said the governor, not at all displeased at the
rather broad compliment to his daughter, "don't turn her
head, marquis. It spins all day, as it is."
"Wherever it turps it radiates sunshine, I am sure," said
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97
the marquis, who was fairly well experienced in the art of
getting himself liked at a cheap rate.
Victoire received these flowers of speech with the air of a
person who had heard something of the sort before, but who
thought there was no harm in a little repetition.
"Do you make any stay in Calais, monsieur?" she asked,
turning to Gwynett.
"At present I amat thedisposal of the marquis, mademoiselle."
"You will make this house your home, gentlemen, while
you are here," said the governor, with his usual hospitality.
"I leave for Lille to-day, my dear governor," replied
de Torcy. " But I may have occasion to ask M. Gwynett's
good ofifices here for a day or two. In fact, with your per-
mission, we will go to the port at once, to see about the
matter."
" Shall I accompany you ? "
" I was about to ask that favour."
Victoire promptly assumed the air of house-mistress.
"We dine at two, messieurs," said she. "Will that be
early enough for you, M. le marquis ? "
" You tempt me, mademoiselle, and I fall without hesitation
— the more readily as I am bound, in any case, to be away
from Eden for some little time."
"I gather from the marquis," said Gwynett, "that outside
Pans and Versailles one dines on raw fish, roots, or grubs."
" Don't listen to him, mademoiselle. He has a digestion,
and doesn't know what food is. Let him wait till he is fifty'
and a dyspeptic. I kiss your hands, mademoiselle." '
" Till two, M. le marquis."
The three gentlemen drove to the port in the governor's
carriage, while the minister's equipages were put up. A long-
boat with eight sailors rowed the party to the Fleur de Lys,
which lay at anchor where Gwynett had left her. The
corporal and his guard met them at the gangway, and saluted
as they came on deck.
"A word vyith you, M. Gwynett," said the marquis, taking
him aside. "You said you could get at those cases single-
handed ? " "
"Certainly — if you are in no great hurry."
" Can you and I move them without assistance ? "
"We could get them into the hold. I think. Then we
should want a capstan or a pulley-block."
The hold will be far enough. My dear governor," said
the marquis, crossing over to hni, " where is your carpenter? "
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" Here, Mathurin ! " shouted the governor to one of the
guard. *' Bring your tool-basket."
"To the hold," said Gwynett, in the marquis's ear.
"You are right," assented de Torcy. "M. Daguerre,
please remove the seals from the hatches and have them
lifted."
This was done, and the yawning gulf of the hold appeared
in view, with the ladder hooked into rings in the coaming.
The carpenter laid his basket down, and awaited orders.
" Now, my dear governor," said the marquis, " do me the
favour to take your men into the long-boat. I will ask you
to row round the brig at a hundred yards' distance till I signal
for you. Nothing must be allowed to approach us on any
pretext whatevei."
The governor gave an order to the corporal, and the guard-
party embarked in the boat.
" Are your instructions intended to apply to the case of your
happening to set the brig on fire?" asked the governor,
laughing, as he followed the corporal down the gangway.
'Teste ! you remind me~we shall want a light, M.
Gwynett?"
" Let us have a couple of lanterns."
The governor sent the corporal on deck again. This worthy
promptly produced a couple of ship's lamps from the deck-
cabin, lit them, and returned to the long-boat. The marquis
waved his hand, and the crew pushed off.
"Now to business, my dear sir, as you are so obliging,"
said the marquis, approaching the open hatch. " Will you be
good enough to descend, and I will hand you the lights ?"
Gwynett climbed a few steps down the ladder, carrying the
tool-basket on his arm, then took the lamps from the marquis,
and descended to the floor. The marquis followed with many
grunts and lamentations over his stiffened joints, which had
never recovered from the wet weather during his cross-country
journey in Flanders a couple of years previously.
" It is forty years since I was on board ship before," said
he, looking about the gloomy recesses of the hold. " We were
just commencing the war with the United Provinces, in
alliance with your king Charles II., and I had to accompany
my father to Ostend. We were all frightened to death lest
de Ruyter should catch us. Lord, how sea-sick I was ! "
Gwynett was makmg his way through a lot of lumber of
various kinds towards the bulkhead which separated the hold
from the lazarette.
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" Where is this famous secret door of yours ? " asked the
marquis, groping his way after him.
"Here, M. le marquis," replied Gwynett, holding his lantern
opposite the partition.
A dozen massive vertical timbers, reaching from the hold
floor to the curved beam which supported the deck overhead,
divided the partition into a series of recesses. Behind these
timbers heavy twelve-inch planks were bolted, resting horizon-
tally one on the othe •. Gwynett felt along the side of one
of the uprights till he came to what might have been taken for
a knot-hole, close to the back planking. Putting his finger
m this, and pressing upward, a well-oiled bolt was displaced.
On a vigorous push being applied to the planking on the left
of the upright, a section of it swung back, revealing the
magazine. The section was four planks deep, stretched from
post to post, and commenced at five feet from the floor of the
hold. This represented the difference in level between the
hold and the lazarette. Gwynett put in the two lamps, entered
the lazarette, and assisted the marquis to follow him.
The lazarette, or after-hold, was practically empty, save for
a few coils of rope and a couple of kegs of spirits, the; latter
evidently reserved for the late padrone's private consumption
The sheathing of the ship's side extended without a break
from floor to ceiling. In the latter, two hatches appeared,
one about the centre, and the other in the farthest corner
where the rapid upward slope of the floor brought it close to
the ceihng. Gwynett pointed to the hatch in the middle
of the ceiling.
"That is the old hatch," said he. "The padrone had it
nailed securely to the floor to prevent inquiry in that direction
The new one m the corner is under the bunk in his sleeping-
cabin, where no one would think of looking for one. It was
made at the same time as the door in the bulkhead."
Your padrone had a good notion of hide-and-seek," said
the marquis. " His arrangements happen to come in very
usefully for us, as I particularly wish our little expedition to
leave no trace behind it. Now where are the bullion-cases ? "
Gwynett struck the sheathing with his hand.
"Here, M. le marquis."
" Behind that planking ? "
"Yes."
^'1 Parbleu I it will take a week to get at them.'*
J Do you want all of them out, monsieur ? "
" No. How many cases did you say there were ? "
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" Forty."
" All the same size ? "
"Practically."
"And weight?"
" I think so."
The marquis made a calculation.
" I may want eight," said he.
"That will not be difficult," said Gwynett, taking up his
tools. " But it will take some few minutes, and you may
. as well be seated, monsieur."
" Very true," said the marquis, carefully dusting the top of
a keg of brandy, and feeling if the sheathing of the side was
likely to soil his surtout, " If my poor assistance can be of
any use to you, pray command me."
"Thank you," said Gwynett, selecting the sharpest steel
wedge he could find, and concealing a smile.
"On the contrary," said the marquis, producing h is t ada
and offering it. " Do you take snuff?"
Gwynett politely declined, and proceeded to prise up one
of the planks of the sheathing. This occupied some little
time, as he was anxious not to make his operations obvious
by unduly damaging the timber. Eventually the piece of
sheathing was dislodged, and revealed the piles of iron-bound
wooden cases, resting one upon another. But as they were
deeper in size than the width of the plank, Gwynett prepared
to remove another.
"My dear M. Gwynett," said the marquis, who had been
looking on with profound interest, " no doubt your cases
there are all very comfortably stowed away, but why the
mischief was so much trouble taken? Could you not have
put them on the floor here, and simply secured the magazine
from intrusion ? "
" Certainly, M. le marquis. But it was necessary to provide
against contingencies. We might have been shipwrecked or
captured."
" Fes^e ! of what use would your precautions be if you had
gone to the bottom of the sea ? "
" None. I was thinking of being driven on shore, or on
rocks which could be reached from the shore. On our
English coasts the people have a habit of helping themselves,
until they are stopped, to anything that arrives in that
.'ash ion."
" I fancy it is not very different in Bretagne or Normandy,"
oLsLi vcd the marquis.
a "ftent Squire
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"We are said to have afifinities of race with both those
provinces," said Gwynett. " Hence, probably, the deplorable
circumstance I have mentioned."
"On the contrary," said the marquis, laughing, "let us
assume that our people were demoralised by the English
occupation of the west coast territories during the middle
ages. But suppose you had been cast on shore— what
then ? "
"Well, monsieur, a good deal would have to be done in
the way of plunder before they took to breaking up the
ship, and by that time the hull could be rescued."
" But you spoke also of capture."
"That was a good deal more likely to happen than anything?
else."
" No doubt— but if the brig had been captured, the cases
would have been captured."
"True, monsieur, but the captors would not have known
it— at least, not at the time, perhaps not afterwards."
"That would be gratifying from one point of view. But
they would be lost to us all the same."
"Not at all, monsieur."
" What is the difference ? "
" All the difference in the world."
"How?"
"Because the ship would still be afloat, and the money
would be perfectly safe so long as it was not discovered."
"Well?"
"Well, monsieur, the brig being necessarily somewhere,
and m the hands of somebody, it would always be possible
to trace her, to buy her back, to hire her, or to steal her
Then we get at the cases again."
The marquis looked at Gwynett for a moment in silence.
" Decidedly this young man has ideas," said he to himself,
or else I must be getting very stupid." Then aloud,
"That is a very important consideration, without doubt,
monsieur. But how many people are in the secret ? "
" Two, monsieur. You and I."
" How did you manage that ? "
" In order to run as little risk as possible, I advised that
the cases should not be landed from the galleons when they
arrived at Cadiz frorn Amr.iilr'r* K.-f Uf^r^t — j — ,1- .._j-- . /
-- — — -' -— ..j..),.^,,, -jui n.cpi. u;i ac<-k. under guara.
Ihen we bought the F/eur de Lys, keeping her crew and
captain, and sent them all on shore. I covered up the name
of the brig, got a company of sailors from the galleons, who
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102
H Ikent Squire
had never seen her before and did not know her name, and
navigated her to San Lucar. When there, a galleon followed
with the chests, and transferred them to our hold. Their
carpenter helped me to strip the sheathing and place the
chests where you see them. Then they sailed away, I sent
word to the padrone to bring his men to San Lucar, and we
commenced our voyage."
" Rather a round-about business," said the marquis. " But
it was well to take every precaution, and your forethought
may still prove useful. In any case, we are under even greater
obligations to you than appeared before, monsieur — and I,
for one, will not forget it."
" It was mainly a question of luck, monsieur," said Gwynett,
proceeding with his work. " Any one of a hundred trifling
accidents might have brought the business to grief. As it
happened, things went smoothly- except for the padrone and
his men."
The marquis helped himself to snuff again.
" The deuce ! " he muttered, sotto voce, " if that is the good
youth's notion of things going smoothly, I would rather be
out of the way when they go roughly."
By this time another plank had been tp^^en off, and the
uppermost chests of four piles were accessible. With the loose
planks to use as a slide, the cases could be brought to the
floor without much trouble, and Gwynett succeeded in re-
moving the required number in the course of a few minutes.
" Do you wish them opened, M. le marquis ? " he asked,
wiping the perspiration from his forehead.
The marquis was somewhat anxious that Gwynett should
not know too much about the value of the treasure, and
especially that he should continue under the misapprehension
that it consisted of silver, instead of gold.
*' I shall be obliged if you will open two, to begin with,"
said he. "Then I shall have to throw myself upon your
indulgence."
" In what way, M. le marquis ? "
" It is de rigueur that the actual examination of these cases
should be carried out by myself only, in private. I am sure
you will excuse the necessity for this form ? "
" Certainly, monsieur," replied Gwynett, who had by this
time loosed the strips of iron which encircled the wood-work
of the chests. *' In fact, now that I insert these wedges, you
can remove the lids themselves without trouble," and he
handed de Torcy his mallet.
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103
The marquis looked at this instrument rather dubiously.
" It is a mere piece of routine," he observed blandly. " If
you will be so good as to separate the lids without actually
uncovering the contents, it will meet the letter of the law, and
I shall be infinitely obliged to you."
Gwynett did as he was requested, and then put on his coat.
"Now I will leave you, monsieur, and will await your
summons. If you can manage with one lantern, I will look
round the hold and see that all is safe."
" I am quite ashamed to put you to the trouble," said the
marquis.
Gwynett let himself down through the door in the bulkhead,
closed it after him, and commenced a tour of inspection
amongst the miscellaneous lumber that littered the floor of the
hold. This was a proceeding for which time and opportunity
had hitherto been lacking. After going the round of the
numerous kegs and barrels which lay about, Gwynett came to
the conclusion that a considerable part of the late padrone's
usual stock-in-trade, when on a smuggling expedition, was on
board. This had been presumably with the idea of doing
a stroke of business after the trip to Calais was brought to
a conclusion. Now that the worthy padrone was at the
bottom of the sea, Gwynett, who was ignorant even of his
name, began to wonder if he was to look upon himself as his
heir, successor, and assignee. He took a seat on a barrel
to debate this point of law and ethics. While doing so, he
amused himself by carving, with the sailor's knife he had the
habit of carrying about with him, certain capital letters in the
ship's side.
By the time the marquis called to him, saying that he was
at his disposal, the initials M.D. were duly executed, six
inches high and half an inch deep, in the dingy sheathing of
the hold. Heaving a respectable lover's sigh at the thought of
his prolonged absence from his betrothed, Gwynett kicked the
chips in various directions, pocketed his knife, and re-entered
the lazarette.
"I have kept you an unconscionable time, M. Gwynett"
said de Torcy. " If you will kind refasten these two cases,
1 think we can dispense with any present examination of the
other SIX. Can you replace the planks without any indica-
tion of their having been interfered with ? "
" Not altogether, I am afraid. But we will see."
In a short time the sheathing was made good again, but it
was easy to detect where the tools had been used to force
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the planks away from their fastenings. The marquis noticed
this, and pointed it out.
" If I may make a suggestion, M. le marquis," said Gwynett,
" it will be to leave things as they are till I can obtain some
putty and paints, which will effectually conceal everything.
No one need get in here in the meantime. The seals are on
the cabin door, and can remain there till I return with your
orders to have them removed."
" Excellent ! And now as to these eight cases— they may
have to go ashore."
"That is easy enough. We will get them into the main
hold, and they can be picked up thence by the windlass."
Gwynett fastened up the two cases which had been opened,
and looked about for some means of lowering the whole eight
into the hold without accident. Finally, he unhooked the
ladder, laid it against the edge of the after-hold floor, and
slid the cases down it into the main hold. The marquis
descended, Gwynett fastened the secret door, and after the
ladder had been replaced, the pair climbed up on deck.
When the governor came alongside, in respon;- , to a signal
from the marquis, he pointed to the offing, where a couple of
large ships were emerging from a bank of sea-fog.
" New arrivals, M. le marquis," said he.
" What are they ? "
"Two of our frigates from Dunkerque— the Tonnerre and
the Henri Quatre"
" Coming into port ? "
" No doubt."
" That's very fortunate," said the ir..?.rquis. " To make sure,
however, I will ask you to send your gallev with a message to
the senior captain to put in and wait instructions."
The marquis wrote a few lines in his note-book, tore out the
page, and handed it to M. Daguerre.
" I will keep a couple of men to take us ashore in the brig'.s
boat, and send the rest in the galley at once," said the
governor. " You are ready, I suppose ? "
" Quite," said de Torcy.
While the governor was giving his
turned to Gwynett.
"This slightly alters my plans, M. „..^ ^ ..„^ „..
tended to trespass still further on your kindness, and ask you to
complete VOUr commission hv faVinrr t\\a KrirY f^p f^ Tl.,^1
Now I need not trouble you so far, as one of the frigates, if
not both, will be at my disposal for the purpose. But I will
orders, the marquis
Gwynett. I had in-
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nsk you to remriin in actual charge of her, i, seal, till an
relieve you formally. You will hear from me within a week
if I may venture to trouble you for so long."
"I am quite at your disposal, M. le marquis."
"Thank you. I should tell you it is possible a certain
additional number of those cases may have to be removed into
the hold. May I depend on you for that ? "
"Certainly."
" Therefore you need not obliterate the marks of damage
till you hear from me, lest it should require to be done all
over again."
" As you please, monsie -r."
"We are at your service, gentlemen," said the governor
coming up. "But do you wish the hatch sealed again!
M. le marquis?" '^ '
De Torcy signified assent, the ceremony was duly completed
and the party were rowed ashore. A couple of hours later
the marquis, leaving Gwynett to the warmly pressed hospitality
of the governor, started on what was understood to be a
visit to his estates in Picardy.
.1
CHAPTER XIV
THE DUKE OF MARLDOROUGH TURNS AN HONEST PENNY
S^ the morriing of the second day after leaving Calais.
M. de Torcy s travelling-carriage was approaching a little
roadside inn about a mile from the village of Eekeren. half
an hours drive to the north of Antwerp. The marquis was
alone, his secretary, who had met him a few hours before
having gone on in advance, while the rest of his party were
at Antwerp awaiting his return. He was just awaking from
a doze, and put his head out of the carriage window. At
a little distance ahead a horseman appeared, coming up at a
trot, who drew rein when he saw the carriage, and waited for
It to come up to him.
"Well, Rend?" said the marquis, as they came within
speaking distance.
" Everything is ready, M. le marquis,'" replied the horseman,
who was the minr-ter's secretary, somewhat disguised in a
rlemish nding-coat.
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B Ikent Squire
'• Good I let the postilion lead your horse, and you come
inside."
De Lavalaye dismounted, handed his reins to the postilion,
and entered the carriage.
" The duke is there, then ? "
"Yes— he arrived an hour ago. He came from Eekeren,
in order not to be seen at Antwerp."
" Anyone with him ? "
" M. Cardonnel and a couple of troopers."
Master Adam Cardonnel was the duke's secretary and
factotum, a member of parliament, and formerly secretary for
war.
" Is there a suitable room at the inn ? "
" One. I have secured it for the day."
•' Quite safe ? It would be the very mischief if we had
any eavesdropping by the people there."
" I think so— at all events, M. Cardonnel and I can see to
that."
By this time the carriage had come up to the inn. De
Lavalaye helped the marquis out, and the two entered the
porch. An elderly gentleman opened the door, and bowed
profoundly.
•'This is M. Cardonnel, M. le marquis," said de Lavalaye.
The marquis bowed, and the duke's secretary bowed again.
" You do us great honour, M. le marquis," said Cardonnel.
"The duke is waiting and at your disposal, whenever you
please."
" Do me the favour to tell his grace I am quite ready."
" This way, then, M. le marquis."
Cardonnel turned down a passage, opened the door of a
room, and ushered in the marquis and de Lavalaye.
The room had only one occupant— a tall man of about
sixty years of age, somewhat portly in build, and with the
remains of a magnificent appearance. This was John Churchill,
duke of Marlborough, prince of the Holy Roman Empire'
and generalissimo of the armies of the Allies. He bowed
with infinite grace and dignity, and came forward to shake
hands with M. de Torcy.
" Permit me to thank you for the visit of your able secretary,
M. le marquis," said the duke.
"I am happy to reintroduce him, my dear duke, in his
private capacity as m.y nephew, and .a cadet of the house of
d'Estr^es," replied the marquis.
" I have met all the three marshals of your family, M. de
I
B fkcnt Squtrc
107
^1
Lavalaye," said Marlborough, who never forgot a face or a
name " 1 saw the old duke just before I was in Flanders
with M. de Turen' —a wonderful old man. He must have
been more than a imndred years of age. Did he not have
a child by his second marriage, when he was over ninety-three ? "
"I have understood so, M. le due," replied the secretary,
feeling rather bewildered.
" Tt is not given to everyone to belong to two such houses
as iJolbert and d'Estrdes," proceeded the duke, offering his
snuff-box to de Torcy. " We shall expect great things from
your nephew, marquis."
The marquis bowed, helped himself to a pinch, and muttered
soUo voce, " If Rend does not keep his tail in, he will find
salt on it before he knows where he is." Then aloud,
" If you are at liberty, M. le due, I will ask M. de Lavalaye
to see that we are not interrupted without occasion."
" I am entirely at your disposal," said the duke. " Mr.
Cardonnel will feel honoured by M. de Lavalaye's acceptance
of such hospitality as this hovel can afford."
The two secretaries took this hint of dismissal and retired.
The duke motioned de Torcy to the solitary arm-chair in the
room, seated himself at the opposite side of the carved oak
table, and awaited events.
" Before we commence our conversation, M. le due, let me
thank you for your courtesy in according this interview—
which, by the way, I hope has not inconvenienced you."
Not in the least, my dear marquis. I am only sorry you
did not suggest some meeting-place nearer the frontier, and
thus lessen the trouble to yourself."
" You are very good, M. le due. But we had the impression
that your departure from the Hague was imminent, ari we
did not wish to lose an opportunity which might not occur
again for some time."
" It is quite an accident I am not in London— but M. de
Bothmar has asked me to wait for him. Hence the delay."
The baron von Bothmar was the envoy from the elector of
Hanover to the English court.
" Convey my compliments to the baron," said the marquis.
" With great pleasure."
" Probably, M. le due, you have in a measure anticipated
the considerations which I wished to lay before you."
"In a measure only," replied Marlborough, who had
exhausted himself in speculating as to what was in the
wind.
't ,;.
!•«
1 08
a Ikcnt Squire
• Things have, of course, somewhat changed since we met
at the Hague a couple of years ago," observed the marquis
referrmg to his abortive negotiations in 1709 (which were
followed by the crowning disaster of Malplaquet) and in 17 10
'Very unfortunately so for myself, marquis, as you are
aware," replied the duke, in a plaintive tone.
"I need scarcely say, my dear duke, that France is no
better off for the failure of our efforts on those occasions "
"No one regretted the failure more than myself, marquis
But our Dutch colleagues were quite impracticable ; and as
you know, it was necessary to be unanimous." '
"Probably— at that time," observed the marquis negligently
The duke pricked up his ears. Everybody knew that the
English ministry had opened up negotiations for peace behind
the backs of the Allies, and that de Buys had hastened to
London to remonstrate on the part of the States-General A
tremendous uproar had been caused by the precipitation of
comte de Galas, the ambassador of the irate emperor of
Germany, in giving to the London press a copy of the pre-
liminary articles handed in to him confidentially. These
articles were so unaccountably favourable to France that public
opinion m England veered round furiously against the new
Tory government. But the latter had kept their own counsel
and at this particular juncture no one outside the cabinets
of St. James and Versailles knew whether matters were gointr
forward or backward. The duke began to suspect that thev
had gone more than forward.
"Exactly," said he. "At that time— as you say For-
tunately, her majesty's new advisers can act with much greater
freedom in that direction than we could ourselves. Nothing
now stands in the wav of a prompt settlement, at which I
shall profoundly rejoice."
" I am sure of it," said the marquis.
"The deuce!" said the duke to himself, "they have come
to terms.
"At the same time," proceeded de Torcy, "we can hardly
expect your allies to be so well-disposed towards peace as
Great Britain, which appreciates the changes brought about
by the accession of the emperor."
" Naturally," said the duke.
" A separate peace would be of incalculable benefit to both
nur rpopecf.ye countries, even if wc weie not so fortunate as
to secure the concurrence of the States-General and the
Empire,"
; we met
marquis,
ich were
in 1710.
you are
:e IS no
.ns."
marquis.
; and, as
gligently.
that the
e behind
tened to
leral, A
tation of
peror of
the pre-
These
Jt pubhc
:he new
counsel,
cabinets
re going
hat they
i'. For-
1 greater
Nothing
rvhich I
^e come
I hardly
iace as
: about
to both
nate as
nd the
a Ikent Squire 109
"I need not say, my dear marquis, that my best efforts shall
be forthcommg to that end."
"I am convinced of it, M. le due— although I am disposed
to hope that no great need for them will arise, so far as her
majesty s government are concerned. It is, of course, other-
wise with your allies."
The duke began to see the coming move on the board.
What is he going to offer me?" he thought. "They
cannot have any money. A viceroyalty would scarcely work
except, perhaps, in Flanders, and the prince expects that himself
Let us see." He answered aloud,
" It is, no doubt, difficult to see how the emperor can be
satisfied without Spain and the Indies."
" We could, perhaps, make some arrangement for prince
H-ugene, said the marquis obliquely.
"That is possible. But his highness is somewhat of a
partisan, as you know."
As prince Eugene's ruling passion was an inextinguishable
personal hatred of Louis XIV., the marquis gathered from
this remark of the duke's that he wished to be understood
as drawing distinctions.
"Everyone admits the prince's military genius, M. le due
He, like yourself, must necessarily see with regret the probable
close of a career of activity."
"We are getting nearer," thought the duke. "On the
contrary, my dear marquis," he said, with a profound sigh,
I have long looked forward to a period of repose from the
toils and anxieties of the life of a soldier in the field. It is
a httle unfortunate that these aspirations have coincided with
the loss of the opportunities I might formerly have expected
of serving my country in a civil capacity."
1 f! ^^ !^- ,1" ^^^ "market," said the marquis to himself " We
left off bidding at three hundred thousand pounds lust time
MncK ' ^'^ ""g"" ""^ "" T^'^""' °^ ^ """'O"' ^"d thank Mrs.'
Masham." He proceeded aloud,
"Most men, my dear duke, would envy your lot in bein^
able to retire from public life to the enjoyment of a princel?
fortune on your charming estate." pnnLciy
.J'.t'"'''' "^^'"^T' !^^^ ^"''^^^ "'^''^"^ of a man in my position
^th y^'otf-!^'''^ ^"^^ °''""''^- ^^ ^ "^^y ^' perfectly candid
counf^n'S;.'" ''°"'^'' '^' "^^^"'^' "''' ""' '^y ^"^ ^^'P ^y
" I confess that I am full of uneasiness in many ways. I
no
M
!^
a Ikent Squire
h
am an old man. My family is miserably provided for, and
even my small savings "
"Say three millions sterling," interpolated the marquis
mentally.
" May be in jeopardy at any moment through the un-
scrupulous hatred of my political opponents in England."
" That is truly deplorable, M. le due."
"Is it not? Then an Englishman labours under great
disadvantages, my dear marquis."
" In what way ? "
" Well, for example, on the continent nationality counts for
very little when it is a question of assuming administrative
responsibilities. Germany, Austria, Holland, Italy— all these
can exchange governors, viceroys, vicars-general, in fact all
high civil officers, without any inconvenience."
" No doubt that is true to a considerable extent."
"Whereas an Englishman, discarded in his own country,
has no career open to him abroad except that of arms."
" I am afraid, M. le due, it is too late to attempt to repair
the error made nearly forty years ago by my august master
in not accepting your offer of service under the French flag.
Nevertheless, if you cannot be with us, let us hope that the
occasion has passed for you to be against us."
" I think there is every probability of that, God be thanked ! "
The duke, as we shall have further occasion to notice, was
nothing if not pious.
" May we not have the assurance of its certainty, my dear
duke ? "
"Alas! marquis, what can I say? We cannot foresee the
future. Nothing that I can do will be left undone to secure
the adhesion of the Allies to a general peace. Bu! it is,
unfortunately, the case that the present proposals meet with
vehement opposition from the emperor, and I fear my influence
is unequal to the task of removing it."
"You think that he may still maintain his claims
full ? "
" That is my impression— to Spain, at all events."
" And by force of arms ? "
" I fear so."
'* In that case your assistance might still be desired
him?"
" His majesty has always shown the greatest appreciation
of my poor! services."
" The Empire is not as wealthy as Great Britain, M. le due.
m
by
:lt
I
1
a Tkent Squire
III
; for, and
marquis
the un-
;land."
der great
ounis for
;nistrative
-all these
I fact all
country,
irms."
to repair
;t master
mch flag.
that the
lanked ! "
tice, was
my dear
•esee the
:o secure
iu': it is,
leet with
influence
aims in
sired by
reciation
. le due.
1;
That will be a lisadvantage when it becomes a question of
estimatmg the immense value of your co-operation."
" That is very true, my dear marquis. But beggars cannot
be choosers. I must keep my duty to my family before me,
regardless of my own inclinations."
" Still, M. le due, if your own political attitude towards France
is no longer hostile "
1^' Quite the reverse, my dear marquis— -quite the reverse."
It might be, perhaps, possible to meet your views in another
way. Your course of action would be dictated, as I gather
by purely prudential motives ? " o .
" Purely prudential motives."
" My august master would not permit me to suggest any
arrangement which would place you at a disadvantage, my
clear duke. We cannot invite your good offices to secure a
general peace without recognising the obligations we are under
to guarantee you against loss in the matter— that is to say
If our disastrously limited resources place us in a position to
do so. It would not be fair to ask you to sacrifice, perhaps, a
quarter of a million for our exclusive benefit, without beinc
prepared to off'er a quid pro quo:'
" You are very good, M. le marquis. It is true that I have
been led to expect certain proposals-equivalent, perhaps, to
a good deal more than the sum you name " f f '
"Evidently we must go a little higher," thought the marquis
regretfully. He paused a second, and went on,
' • th^, emperor thinks it worth half a million to retain your
services, M. le due, it seems to me he is not far wrong "
p. f 2" f ghness is not a very lavish paymaster, marquis.
But the stake is a high one. He is playing for an empire in
two worlds— and a good deal may be risked for that."
deplorably.''^"'' ^^""^ *° '^^ ^*' hoped-for savings diminish
"What a cormorant this is!" he said to himself, as he
occupied a few seconds in making a supposititious calculation
on a scrap of paper. The duke waited with a vacuous
expression of countenance. vcn,iious
ori' mv^H ^^'T^ "'H^^ u^PP^" '^^^^'■^ ^^^ g^«^e was played
out, my dear duke. In the meantime, even three quarters of
:tar irk^Autia ''^ ^°°' ''^' °^ "^°"^^ '^ -- ^-- ^ ^^^^
or''two^t*'M^°" ^'^ 3^^ "'''■^"''- ^' ^« t^"^ a" expedition
readv mon^v Sn,"^ ^'"' i"'^^^ ^""g ^" ^ go°d deal of
ready money. Still, a round million would go a long way
112
a Ikent Squire
towards representing anything that could be considered at all
certain— from that or any other quarter."
The marquis gulped down his vexation.
" A million, M. le due ? "
" I think so— as you are so good as to interest yourself in
my unfortunate affairs, my dear marquis."
" Let us, then, say a million, M. le due. Such a sum would
be a serious loss for you. We should feel bound to recoup
that loss, m the event of your seeing your way to retire from
any active part in the affairs of the Empire."
'' You take a load off my heart, marquis," sighed the duke
My poor family ! I have no ambitions left, except for those
near and dear to me."
The niarquis endeavoured to look sympathetic, while he
wondered ruefully if any additional demands would be sprung
upon hirn. ^ °
M"iJduc?^^ ""^^ ^^^^ '^ ^°" "^^""^^ ^°"' '^"'"^ ^"^"y*
"That is my intention, marquis— after your very considerate
suggestion." ^
" I may assure his majesty explicitly that under no circum-
stances, even should the war be prolonged, will this intention
be modified?
" Explicitly, my dear marquis."
" Parole d'honneur ? "
" Parole (Thonneur."
The rnarquis leaned back in his chair with a sigh of relief.
The million was gone, but the monarchy was saved ; and'
after all, matters might have been worse. The duke might
have stood out for the whole cargo of the Fkur de Lys. As
It was, the cherished eight cases were safe,
f "-^^^^g^^ds the placing at your disposal of the sum we spoke
ot, M. le due, It can be done in any way you please "
The duke waved his hand with a bland air of indifference.
1 hat IS neither here nor there, M. le marquis "
K- 'T.I ^^T^ contrary," said the marquis, who was anxious to
bind the duke, if he could be bound at all, by letting the hard
cash speak for itself, "we may as well leave nothing unsettled
A portion of the amount is on board ship, at Calais, where
the remainder can be lodged forthwith." This was to suggest
that the magnitude of the duke's demand had not been foreseen.
In louis d or ? " asked Marlborough neelippntlv
"Pistoles," replied the marquis, in a non-commktal tone.
That explains it," said the duke to himself. "Our dear
red at all
aurself in
im would
o recoup
tire from
he duke,
for those
while he
e sprung
i finally,
nsiderate
) circum-
intention
of relief,
d; and,
e might
!^^'J. As
ve spoke
rence.
icious to
he hard
isettled.
, where
suggest
Dreseen.
one.
ur dear
pandson comes to the rescue, because our dear grandnam'.
vvimn." ^' °^ Bracciani's is a deucedly clever
"I suggest, my dear duke." continued the marquis "that
you furnish me with a ship's permit to enter Ostend Ind a saf'
conduct against British or ]3utch cruisers. With these we can
dltosS''^^"'^""^"^ 'y ''' '' O^^-^^' ^1-re to be a?y""
The duke considered a moment.
''That can be managed. But the delivery had better b^
carrtd?'' ''"' P"""" ^'^ ' ^^^ ^^^^ the'money if to be
thJreaden'"^"'' ^''"'"''^ '^' arrangements already known to
"That is a very good idea," said the duke. " Can'vou lenrl
"I came prepared to make you that offer. But we are onlv
toTlfe n^' '° ^ ""'^^^^ y°" ^"^ ^ n^emorandun to be give.^
Thil fc f"'""!? 1" '^"'■S^^ ^^^'^ «'^^ is handed over to rou'
ran irf^lo^s' ^'^ "^^^"'^^ '''''' ' P'^^^ ^^ ^^e duke^iS;
pr^^c^Z^^'li:^^^^,^^ ^^-^ ^^ ^^. at
man, of Kent, at my risk and cost trh.H, ^"^>'"^"' ^^"tle-
Ambrose Gu'ynett wi bin fm,r ?, I' 5 delivered to the said
the port of Dove or k, t£ even, n? ^'^^^ 't^^^'^ hereof, at
the iilterval. at thep^Jn' of'caSr' (lijne'd)-^ '^"'"^^ '"
noi'ta"v ?"Si?r"^ '^'i'' ^"^^y'" ^''^•'i the duke. "I need
w^ntTh'e paper's?" '°" """^•°"' '-^^-^ ^^^^n do^y'ol
;;As soon aspossible-I return instantly."
^he brirXubelLv^The^^nani w^^? '°""'.^ ^^^^''S"- ^-
moment." '"''" ^ """""^ '« '" Antwerp at the
''CerS''"Bv'R'" '^^'' "^^^y "^°""t^d messenger?"
u h:^"ainiy. Jiy Brussels or Ghent ?"
Ghent and Courtrai to Paris."
.. n' ni TVj,ty/"^f.h^^ service to you ? »
•I'^-f!^, i iiianK you.
"Then, to our next haoDV mepfincr m i« .„
" The soonpr HiM K^ff^ Py meeting, M. le marquis."
ine sooner the better, my dear duke."
n
114
a fkcnt Squire
Marlborough rang a little bell, and the two secretaries
entered. The marquis muffled himself up in his cloak and
scarf, and went to his carriage, attended by the duke,
" Get in, Ren^," said de Torcy. " Adieu, M. Cardonnel—
au revoir, M, le due,"
The duke raised his hat, the troopers saluted, and the
carriage started at full gallop back to Antwerp,
CHAPTER XV
i I
r'l
CAPTAIN KERMODE GETS A JOB
As soon as they were alone the duke turned to his secretary.
" You spoke of seeing the man Kermode in Antwerp," said
he, " Did you speak to him ? "
" Merely in reply to his * good day.' "
" Where was that ? "
" At the door of a little cabaret at the corner of the market-
place."
" Do you suppose he was lodging there ? "
" It is possible."
" Go at c ice, and find out. If he is not there, hunt him up.
The police will help you if you are at fault. Take this note."
The duke scribbled a line, which Cardonnel pocketed.
" When you find him, bring him here on the instant. I take
it he can't possibly ride, so hire a carriage."
" If I don't find him ? "
"Then we post to Ostend, so make the necessary arrange-
ments before you come back. I will dine while you are away •
send the host here as you go out." '
Cardonnel retired, and a couple of minutes afterwards
his horse's hoofs could be heard clattering down the road.
Meanwhile, the landlord of the inn, having appeared at
Marlborough's summons, produced some rough fare and an
unexpectedly passable bottle of wine. With the aid of these
the duke made a leisurely meal, sipped his wine, and wondered
how much more he could have squeezed out of de Torcy if he
had suspected the assistance evidently given by the Escurial
Thence his thoughts went back to the almost identical mission
upon which he himself had been sent to Charles XII. of
Sweden in 1707, armed with very similar financial inducements.
jecietaries
::loak and
•donnel —
and the
cretary.
erp," said
e market-
t him up.
s note."
ed.
:. I take
' arrange-
ire away ;
fterwards
:he road,
eared at
and an
of these
vondered
ircy if he
Escurial.
1 mission
XII. of
cements.
'^Yii^/-::^
TiiK Dlkio AN-n r.u'T.UN Kehmodk.
Page ur,.
■■>&
'n
1
1 ^ ^
■^
!t;
a fkcnt Squire ,15
''That worthy de Torcy has a good deal to learn," he
reflected complacently. "I wonder if he will be fool enough
to confess to the million only ? " ^
This was a reminiscence of the gratifying fact that in his
interview with Charles XII. at the Schloss Alt-Ranstadt. near
Leipzig, he had the good fortune to find that his skill as the
first diplomatist, ..c* well as the first soldier, in Europe was
sufficient to render needless the expenditure of the money
which he brought with him for the bribing of Charles's
ministers. Consequently, he put it in his own pocket
In about an hour a vehicle, behind which was tied the
secretary s horse, drove up to the inn. The door of the duke's
room opened, and Cardonnel entered.
" Well ? "
" He is here."
• That's lucky. Where did you find him ?"
" He was dining at the cabaret."
" What is he doing at Antwerp ? "
"Nothing." ^
" Alone ? "
" I think so."
"Send him in, and order some spirits."
Cardonnel opened the door, and signed to someone in the
If^^f^^A u The narrow doorway was immediately afterwards
blocked by a short but enormously corpulent man, whose in-
convenient bulk was further increased by the distension of his
breeches pockets. It seemed rather doubtful whether the
newcomer could effect an entrance.
''^ Try sideways, captain," suggested the duke.
Haven t had any sideways these twenty years, your
honour." replied the captain, as he succeeded, after some
effort, m getting into the room.
"Take a seat, captain," said the duke.
The captain hoisted himself on to a chair, placed his
sou'-jvester on the table, and wiped his foreherd wkh a
bandanna of many colours. He was a man of about forty-five
ZTJ ? f "^y ^^t' ^ '^'°^"^^ "^°"th, the air of one who
has always to be on the watch, and a certain agility of move°
TtmlZ^ ST''^'''^'' °"' °^ '^^^P^"^ with his' enormous
Fn^LnH -S '''''''' u* '"''' ^ "''^^"'■^ o^ south and west of
?"!'^;^.T'^^. something which had originally been Manx.
A. a maucr or ract, captain Christopher Kermode (to whose
affairs a cursory reference was made in our first chapter! had
been born and bred in the Isle of Man, of a fisher family! and
116
H Ikcnt Squire
had thence wandered first to Bristol and afterwards to the
south-east coast. Here for several years he had made a livinc
partly by fishing, partly by smuggling, and partly by conveying
Jacobite passengers and letters across the Channel when
occasion arose for such good offices. In this last way he had
become well known to the leading supporters of the cause
and to others who, like Marlborough, were in more or les.s
frequent communication with St. Germain.
" Will you take claret or spirits ? " said Marlborough, wavinc
his hand towards his second bottle.
" I thank your honour," said the capta-'t., looking doubtfully
at the claret-bottle, " Schnapps or Gene a for me, saving your
presence. Never could see what the gentry can fancy in that
rot-gut stuff."
A knock at the door heralded the appearance of the
captain's choice of refreshment, to which, at a signal from the
duke, he gratefully addressed himse'f.
" How is business ? " said Marlborough affably.
" Good enough, your honour, if I could do it. But I can't "
" What's the matter ? "
•' Tried to get some claret over a month ago, your honour "
"Lost the lugger."
" How was that ? "
" Fortune of war, your honour."
^" A French coastguard, I suppose ? "
The captain nodded.
"That's a pity. What are you doing here, then, if I
may ask?" 01,
" Heard of a job to v a big cargo from Maerdyk— but it
fell through, your honour."
" I daresay I could put you in the way of something, if 7ou
cared to take it," said the duke. " That was why I asked vou
to come here."
" Glad to do anything just now, your honour,
work ? "
" No. I am rather out of the way of that sort of thing now
as you are probably aware." '
The captain intimated by a nod his acquaintance with the
duke's changed fortunes at court.
" In fact, I know very little of what is going on, outside my
regiments= But there seems a good deal of talk of peace
coming soon. ^
" Ay, ay, your honour."
why 1 asked you
Government
a "Rent Sqiurc
irds to the
ade a living
f conveying
nnel when
vay he had
the cause,
ore or less
igh, waving
doubtfully
aving your
icy in that
ice of the
il from the
lit I can't."
• honour."
117
then, if I
yk — but it
ing, if 70U
asked you
3vernment
:hing now,
! with the
utside my
of peace
.if
4
The assiento
" I daresay you hear more gossip than I do
seems to be considered cjuite a certain tL^ ''
that 'same! t'^ old'LS a^Bn^r ^7-,^'^"-^ ^^ '"-
it, and it broke Is Lan hen thK "^^^^ '" '^'^ '"^"^'y ^'
trade Things wouKoktp^T't^ha! t^^^^rH^h^;^^^^^^ ^'^^•
Africa. This lucrative monopoly td bee held t ? 7f 'T]"
government from 1667 to 16 ^( but in ,,n, . 1 V ^ ^"^''''^
by the new kins of Srviin 1 ; ^°^ ^^^^ '^^^'" assigned
to France I?s res or.^ion to '-'"'fT "^ ^'^ g^^nclfadier,
imperative condition oTpeace by VhTTo/v'^^ "" "^^^^ ^"
was duly carried out by the trc. ^0^ ir^ ^^;"'"''''^' ^""^ '^''
later. It need scarcely be l['dV^l .^'f ^' ^ ^'f '"^ ^ ^^^'^
we are dealing the slave tLt 1 f f^ ^^ P^'''^'^ ^^'^h which
highest respectXli y-so mu rso" inf ?°r '" ^"^ °^ ^^^-^
reserved to"^ herself ^a four h h'r; of Th^ that queen Anne
contract when it was subseauentl r.i ^ P'-'^'leges of the
"Some friends of m"nTirFrlce ' °n '^ '" j^ "^ ".°""^^>'-
"attachec^othechevalier^mVoi't:V— "^ ''' '"'"'
" Vou LTqui^: rUnina-n^^^LTr ^ ^^^^^ r""^-"
to think that the business w ilM;. .^^ese genilemen seem
they have put thSr pursed Lethr^^^^^^ ""''' ^°"^' ^"^
I^renchlL^rVha^reL^lfeenTlf tl^ ^"" -' ^'-'
ships and privateers and ll ? ''^ '^^'^ ^^ ^^'^ queen's
ciu.je short-hLdepverTbU Lotir--^ and mml. are
picking i';^a fSr; gS seto'rthv sh' '" ^'' '"^ ^-"^« -
can, so as to be ready.'' ^ ^^' ''^'^P '^'^^''^^e'- ^hey
"That's smart," observed th^ ^or,f •
" Plenty of French sh,> to be .otfofr' f.'"'"^ '"^^'■^•^^^^•
no trade, and daren't go out of St of) "^ 'T^' ^^^y'''^
pTts:."-" ^^ '^ ^^e^1tt;^m^:^r^:;fruTJ-;-y
thi'd^k^'^Cd m;i-2L"drw^^^^ s.v^o"? ?"T^^'^^^-^'" p--^e^
But it's very awkward'' ^° ^""''P ^'''-'"^ »" the matter.
eniSitenrnt" 'to ^ZV^JJ'^''' '^T^^' ^"^ ---^ed
memorandum. ''^^''''^^^ ^^ refer to de Torcy's
ii8
B Ikcnt Squire
1 1 'i
i
^ I, :
" It seems they have just bought a brig," he went on, looking
at the paper, " the F/eut de Lys, of Calais, and they want to
have her fitted out in London, to be ready for the trade. Of
course, if she sails from Calais they will run the risk of capture
by our fleet. So they ask me to give them a safe-conduct and
allow her to be consigned to me at Ostend. You may fancy
what a handle my enemies in England would make out of that
if the brig happened to be stoppvid."
" Ay, ay, your honour."
" It wouldn't do at all, as you see. I can't afford to be
mixed up with that kind of thing. But when I heard of your
being in Antwerp, it occurred to me there might be a way out
of the difficulty. If it were made worth your while, would you
be prepared to be the nominal consignee of the brig at Ostend,
and take her over to England ? "
" Lord love your honour ! with pleasure. But I must have
papers."
" Ship's papers, you mean ? "
" Certain. If I haven't them, the first war-ship, English or
French, that comes alongside will hang me as a pirate."
" You shall have papers."
" Ostend papers ? "
" I suppose so,"
"That wouldn't prevent me being captured by one of the
French frigates. There are three at Dunkerque at this very
moment, I happen to know."
" No doubt my friends can provide you with a French safe-
conduct. Only you must be ready to swallow it if an English
ship overhauls you."
The captain scratched his head, and looked very earnestly at
the flagon of schnapps, as if seeking for guidance.
" A safe-conduct would be all right with a French ship-of-
war, your honour," he said doubtfully. " But those cursed
privateers are not so particular. ' Here's an Englishman,' says
they, 'and English papers — d the safe-conduct.' And
the first thing they does is to burn the paper "
" And the next ? "
"Run me up to the yard-aim, your honour — that is, if their
tackle wuuld stand my weight."
The duke smiled, and then considered for a minute. There
was little or no foundation for the captain's apprehensions, but
lucy =uj^Q-_3v_-wS a:i i_--.v<.si*_nt rcaaOii lOi Ji
under his own eye,
along.
ft.CCpi
f U ~ TT7~,... J. T
which was what he had had in view
all
on, looking
ey want to
trade. Of
of capture
induct and
may fancy
out of that
Tord to be
ird of your
; a way out
would you
at Ostend,
must have
English or
te."
one of the
t this very
ranch safe-
an English
earnestly at
ch ship-of-
ose cursed
iman,' says
act.' And
is, if their
te. There
nsions, but
in view all
a ijcnt SqiUrc 119
''There is one of our gun-boats at Ostend," he said finally
She IS awaiting orders to join the M.nmwi :ii Scheveningen
I daresay I can keep her hack till this F/eur de Lys arrives
'''"1 '!t^ "".%" """"''^y y""- ^''■°'^' Scheveningea you can sail
with the Mermaid to London."
relieved'Le.' "'^^'' ^°"' ''^"''"'■" '"'^ "^'^ ^^P'^'"' '" ^
Marlborough rang his little bell, and Cardonnel entered.
Ihe duke opened his despatch-box, took out writing materials.
and wrote as follows : ^ aici.aib,
"Mv DEAR Marquis,
In reply to your request to permit the brig FUiir de Lvs
owned by Ambrose Gwynett. BritisI, subject, fo enter Oste-^d
as consigned to captain Christopher Kermode, Brit sh sub ect
1 herewith enclose a safe-conduct to that effect! '' '
Your obedient servant,
Marlborough."
He enclosed a safe-conduct with this, folded and sealed it
slip ottl", " '' ''' ""'"" "' '"" ""'^ °" ^^^^^'^'^
"If you have a war-ship at Calais or Dunkerque, please let
U convoy the brig within sight of Ostend. Witli all'speed "
lo horse instantly," he said to Cardonnel. "You' will
, overtake the marquis between Antwerp and Courtrai Give
It, aestroy it. Then come back t ^he Hague "
" Mv ?rlb if fl^° f^°"^^ t° <^«'end' captain," said he
My friends shall be asked to send their brig In your charee
It would be as well for you to hang about ^out.dehfpo^rt'
'f the her admits of it. Then you can board the bri^
^^^f - ^*^ht- How man/ men will^^^^ ^Lt t?
" Say half a dozen, you; honour "
the' WoSerfo'.^r" ''°"'- , V^'"' 8''^ yo" =>" order to
"Nothing to speak of, your h,;nour," replied tlle canfin
who wa^ well aware of Marlborough's , ductatt to %T.^wiTh
The rilllfP tnrnort f^ U:„ J._,_.. i i
oiih a rnniro",, ^"' ' ""^ -wip;i.iv,n-Dox wilii a sigh, broueht
out a rouleau, and wrote a coui>'" nf nr/i<>re tj« ^ ^^^^ugiu
folded, and sealed the memSdu^' gten" i^^^yt xr/''-
120
a •Rent Sdufre
I*
: i S
1
f
, i
' ' '
IL4.
f
■ i
" Here are twenty guineas," he said to the captain. " This
sealed packet you will give to the person in charge of the brig.
I recommend you, for your own sake, to show it to no one
else, and to hold your tongue about it."
The captain promised, with sundry expletives, to be as secret
as the grave.
" That is your affair," said the duke indiffereiatly. " Deliver
these two orders to the burgomaster and the captain of the gun-
boat as soon as you arrive. That is all I can do for you
I think." '
" I'm enormously obliged to your honour," said the captain
gratefully.
"You can report to me when you get to Scheveningen."
** I will, your honour. Any other orders ? "
" That is all," said the duke. " A lucky voyage to you. If
things go well, I daresay my friends won't forget you."
The captain emptied the flagon with a sigh of regret, slid
off his chair, and after a salute at the doorway, struggled
through it and disappeared. The duke ordered his carriage.
Five minutes afterwards he started on his return journey to
the Hague.
* * ♦ ♦ •
About a week later a salute announced the arrival of an
English gun-boat at Scheveningen, where her majesty's ship
Mermaid was lying amongst a crowd of fishing-boats and
coasting craft. The gun-boat was accompanied by the
Fkur de Lys, in charge of the worthy Kermode, with half a
dozen Dutchmen and a cabin-boy for crew.
When the brig had cast anchor and taken in sail, the captain
left the cook on board and rowed ashore with the rest of the
crew. Leaving them at the jetty, he went off to the Hague
and inquired for the duke at his hotel. Here he found
Cardonnel, who told him that the duke was away, reviewing
a new contingent of Hanoverians. The baron von Bothmar,
for whom the duke was waiting, had not yet arrived, nor was
there any news of him.
"We will report your safe arrival to the duke," said the
secretary, " and you had better call again in the morning. If
anything occurs in the meantime, we will let you know. Of
course, the Mermaid is in readiness to sail at an hour's notice."
The oaptain pulled his forelock and retired. When he got
back to Scheveningen and sought his crew at the 'ett" *"•"
found the boat occupied by the cabin-boy alone. Inquiring
after the others, he was told they had gone for a drink. This
i
'1
B Ikent Squire
131
n. " This
f the brig,
to no one
e as secret
" Deliver
Df the gun-
) for you,
le captain
igen."
► you.
J)
If
egret, slid
struggled
> carriage.
ourney to
val of an
sty's ship
joats and
by the
ith half a
le captain
est of the
le Hague
he found
reviewing
Bothmar,
I, nor was
said the
ning. If
now. Of
s notice."
:n he got
jetty, he
Inquiring
ik. This
information elicited a volley of imprecations from the captain,
followed by an injunction to the cabin-boy to remain where
he was, under blood-curdling penalties, till the miscreants
came back.
After this the captain decided that it was due to the occasion
to go for a drink himself. He accordingly proceeded in the
direction of a certain tavern, familiar to him from former visits,
and known as the ' Prinz van Oranje.' Just as he reached
this hostelry, however, he suddenly stopped, slapped his thigh,
and muttered to himself,
"Split me if to-day isn't my birthday! Clean forgot it-
clean forgot it. Kit, my man, your wits must be going. To
think I was going to bed sober on this night of all the nights
in the year ! "
The captain shook his head with acute self-reproach at his
forgetfulness of a sacred duty, and entered the door of the
tavern.
CHAPTER XVI
A FAMILY MEETING
The parlour of the ' Prinz van Oranje ' was a long, low room
with oak wainscoting all round, black with age and the nicotine
from generations of smokers. Wide settees ran along each
wall, and a table of Gargantuan weight and dimensions stood
midway. Three hanging copper ship's lamps, of which two
only were lit, hung from the carved beams of the ceiling
Ihese lamps had polished reflectors, which focused the light
on the table, and left the settees and their occupants in com-
parative darkness. The room was filled with tobacco-smoke
of the density of a modern London fog when captain Kermode
waddled m, took his seat, and proceeded to celebrate his
buthday.
J K^^'^^P^^'"'" ^^'^""^ °^ performing this function was one
which did not unduly tax hi.s powers of invention. It consisted
mainly in getting drui.V. in the afternoon, instead of following
his usual routine of waiting till evening. As a minor detail,
he took some little trouble to get drunk on the best rum, while
. _ „ „„3 aaiiSiicu witn any kma oi spirit
which was good enough to be smuggled. But to prevent mis-
apprehension, It must be clearly understood that the worthy
122
a Ikent Squire
i; !i
if
I
i
!
.1
1 1 -
f
1
*
E
captain never got drunk except on shore, or when occupying
the irresponsible status of a passenger afloat.
He now took a seat opposite one of the lamps, h't his pipe,
and mixed his grog with the deliberation of a man who has
a serious undertaking before him. He leaned back as he alter-
nately smoked and imbibed, and his bronzed face disappeared
into the penumbra of shadow cast by the copper reflector
The sound of uproarious revelry came in fitful gusts from
the bar of the tavern, where half a dozen Rhine bargemen
were getting rid of a month's wages. But for some time no
one entered the parlour, and the captain, enveloped in an
ever thickening cloud of tobacco-smoke, made steady progress
towards his promised degree of inebriety.
Occasionally, after a fresh brew, he closed his eyes, and
smoked for some minutes with rather less energy than before
These intervals signified that the captain's thoughts were
dwelling upon certain distant members of his family It
happened that the birthday of three of his four half-brothers
who were triplets, fell upon the same day as his own. There
was, therefore, a certain tender sentiment connected with the
fact that m his family's far-away adopted home at Nantucket
or somewhere on the bosom of the Atlantic, his next-of-kin
were carefully getting drunk at the same time in honour of the
same occasion.
Once, after the captain's pipe had nearly gone out, he leaned
forward to attend to its well-being and at the same time to mix
a fresh glass of grog. This brought his face for the moment
within the radius of the lamp-light. As he leaned back again.
It seemed to his now somewhat obscured vision that a face
emerged from the smoky gloom.on the opposite side of the table
1 he face, he thought, looked at him searchingly, and then
retiring, disappeared in the darkness. Upon this, the captain
used the surviving intelligence at his disposal to philosophise.
1 must be getting drunk," he murmured softly to himself
Always know I'm getting drunk when I see things. Here
have I been thinking of brother Matthew and the rest for the
last half-hour Now, d'ye see, it's for all the world as if I
really saw hun just then. Wonderful, isn'c it ? '"
Having in this way anticipated, by more than a century
and a half, the theory of expectant attention as a source of
hallucinations, the captain peacefully dozed for a few seconds.
When he next opened his eyes, another face, rather higher
from the floor than the former one, was visible in the foggy
halo of lamp-light. This face, too, in its turn disappeared
B tkcwt Squire
123
occupying
lit his pipe,
m who has
as he alter-
lisappeared
actor,
gusts from
bargemen
e time no
ped in an
ly progress
eyes, and
an before,
ghts were
imily. It
f-brothers,
n. There
1 with the
'fantucket,
lext-of-kin
3ur of the
he leaned
ne to mix
i moment
ack again,
lat a face
the table,
and then,
xe captain
)sophise.
himself,
;s. Here
!st for the
d as if I
1 century
source of
seconds,
er higher
the foggy
ared.
■i
" I must be very drunk," meditated the captain. ** I
could have sworn that was brother Mark, in his own flesh
and blood, though he's three thousand miles away on the
cod-banks."
By this time a third face, still higher up than its predecessor,
gleamed forth for a moment, and then was lost in the gloom.
All this time the noise from the bar continued without
intermission.
" Split me ! " muttered the captain, " this must be rare
good rum. If that had been brother Luke himself it couldn't
have favoured him more. As like as two kippered herrings.
Wonderful ! "
At this moment a fourth face appeared. To all appearance
it came from the ceiling, and, unlike the others, was directly
over the captain's head. It was accompanied by a long arm
and a hand like a shoulder of mutton, which slapped the
captain's back with such vigour that the pipe flew out of his
mouth across the table, while a hoarse voice roared through
the smoky fog,
" How are ye, brother Kit ? "
The captain looked up, speechless with astonishment. The
three other faces re-emerged from the shade opposite, and
three voices, hoarser than the former one, echoed the
salutation,
" How are ye, brother Kit ? "
" Brother John ! Well, sink me ! " said the captain at
length. " Shake hands, brothers all."
The four strangers solemnly shook hands with their relative,
one after the other.
*' And how do you find yourselves ? " asked the captain.
"Well, we're in our whole skins, and that's about all,"
replied John, in sepulchral tones of resignation.
" And what the mischief brings you all here ? "
"An ill wind, brother. We're castaways— lost ship, cargo,
and kit— we haven't a stiver or a rag but what we stand in."
A confirmatory grunt came from the rest of the brothers.
'• That's bad news. What ! lost the Hoya/ Mary 1 "
" Ay ! The new schooner we told you of— as neat a craft as
ever wet keel— Nantucket to London with cod. Fair weather
up to the Goodwins. Whole gale from sou'-west. Carried
fway rudder. Drove on to banks south of here. Broke up
iiitu niatchwood. Got ashore on ship's timber and wreckage.
Walked here."
" That's so," growled the brothers in chorus.
''!
u\'>
U
l,f
124
a ment Squfrc
the captain sympathetically.
M '
" Lord ! Lord ! " muttered
" Had anything to eat ? "
rJ.',M°l ^ niouthful. Chewed our last quid at mid-dav
Couldn't speak a word of the lingo hereabouts" ^'
Ahe captain made a desperate effort to rise. After one or
to'^thr doS o? fhe r" ""s ''''u \"^, ^^^^-^ ^ ^-^"- "--
n such aDnalHna ,n \u ?f ' ^^ ^""^^"'^ ^" ^^^^^ ^^ Dutch
looK me place of the mcreasmg uproar of the revellers His
behest was promptly followed by the appearance of a wake
togXef w"h mu".' ''^T ^"f ^ hugrflagonflchn'app:
brothers. ^ * ''''°'^^" P'^'^'' ^"^ ''"^^^^ ^^^ the fou^
ti Jr^T '''''"^'^' ^^" "P°" ^^^ provisions with the appetite of
eves w'h."'n'"'^f ''• ^^^^' ^^P^^'" '°°^^^d on with Approving
thf;..!^ t ^^^^" '"^^^P °^ t'^e board had been made b?
edItiorfX ?ear °' '" '•"^^"^"' ^^^ ^^^^^ ^ ^ --^
In a quarter of an hour this also had disappeared and the
four brothers eaned back in a state of blissful repletion The
aSion'"""'' ^^^' °' ^^^ ^^^^^-- - turn'lTseri'ou:
;; Have some more ? Say the word ! " said he.
T K I?' me-thank ye kindly, brother," replied the eieantic
"ecrsse^ !f'T ""^ '^"Pf '™^ ''""'^ -"^ drawn flomTht
recesses of therr side-pockets, and five columns of smoke
fw n r™,'? ^""^ "'"8'« ™ the ceiling.
AnySgeT"' '"'' *^ '^P'^'"' "'«'' ^^= "ow things stand.
the' nattv" "'wLf *'""'" 'fP''^'^ J"''"' ^^ spokesman for
hs S^h^'r.,^ 'Z i"""^ """" ''"''= '"°n5' we had in
a hore St^cL oTh» k*"" '""°"«'' "''•' "'^'^''''8^. ^"'"""int'
H^t !,„ ? . ''"P^!»Pe^s myself, and that's all."
sailorlshton';"*'"'' '" °"^'"" P='"='=»'- "-"^ -"n up in
in Z'schoone;!' w"a™t if? ■■' "'"^'"- " ^^''' >'--' ^-"^s
'• Ay. And she earned a good livine for all fnnr ^f „-■ — Pr
smce we launched her five years ago come rVwr/moc ' xt
we're nought but paupers again " ^ Christmas. Now
Jathetically.
it mid-day.
^fter one or
ious course
:r in Dutch
Jck silence
Hers. His
of a waiter
schnapps,
>r the four
appetite of
approving
1 made by
1 a second
d, and the
ion. The
th serious
e gigantic
itentment
laid it on
:s. Pipes
fiom the
3f smoke
igs stand.
sman for
e had in
wimming
all."
n up in
i' savings
r us ever
s. Now
a Ikent Squire 125
The brothers grunted dolorously in sympathy.
"Well, boys," said the captain, "what's mine's yours— no
need to say that."
" Ay, you've always been main good to us, brother Kit-
dry-nursed us all from babbies, as you might say," remarked
•'^u";^ ",-^^' ^°ys?" turning to his companions in misfortune.
That s so,' assented Matthew. Mark and Luke nodded
their heads approvingly.
"But I'm down on my luck a bit myself," resumed the
captain. " My two last cargoes got nabbed by the coastguards,
and I'm doing a job here under engagement while things pull
round— taking a brig over to London. Jingo ! " he ejaculated
suddenly, bringing his fist down on the table, "you shall all
ship with me."
" Have you no crew ? " asked John.
"Ay— five Dutchies. But they're all getting blind drunk
somewhere. We'll sail without them, and leave them to get
sober when they choose. Come along and have a look at the
craft, and the captain got upon his legs.
The four brothers rose also. When standing they formed
a crescendo of stature, ascending from five feet three in the
case of Matthew to John's six feet seven. The latter was,
however, the leanest and boniest of the family, while the others
successively gained in bulk what they missed in height. The
captain's globular form of five feet one terminated the scale
in the inverse direction.
The score having been paid when the viands were brought
m, the party passed through the bar without stopping and
emerged mto the open air. The moon was shining brightly.
1 he captain, leading the way with John, took the road through
the port to the shipping anchorage. He ruminated in silence
for several minutes, and the brothers walked along without
word or comment. ^
A hundred paces from the water-side they came upon an
open space where several ships' masts and other timbers lay
^tonnpH ^c°''"'^;i^ ^?"\ P^'''"S some of these, the captain
nl?rfvln '""^i^"^^ ^^^' Mmh^w, who was just behind,
nearly fell over him.
hJl^Z^ \" f''^ -^^^ r^P,^^^"' '^^^^"g ^'^ hat and scratching his
head slowly, " wait a bit." ^
The four brothers came to a halt in an attitude of attention.
r^minT' J "">■ repealed the captain meditatively. "It's
^o™'"g- I shall have it m a minute."
The brothers waited respectfully for the promised arrival,
i
126
a •Rent Squire
|i J
and John whispered to Luke, whose ear was on the nearest
level to his mouth,
*' Let him alone. He's got summat in his head."
Luke agreed with a nod.
" He'd always a rare head, had Kit," said he.
The captain gazed abstractedly at the glittering line of the
moon's reflection in the water, then at his companions, and
then at nothing m particular. The four brothers, with a con-
fidence m the inexhaustible resources of their kinsman which
had characterised them all since childhood, exchanged looks
of admiring wonder.
"That's it!" suddenly ejaculated the captain, with a slap
of his leg that echoed like the report of a pistol— " that's it '
bit down, the lot of ye ! " and he pointed to the nearest baulk
of timber.
The brothers obediently sat down in a row. The captain
stood facing them with as much steadiness as his recent
potations permitted.
" Brother John," said he, with deliberation, " listen to me "
I m listening," replied John expectantly.
"You've been telling me a pack of lies— d d lies— the
d dest lies I ever heard in my life."
" What ! " roared John, getting up.
"Sh! sit down!" The captain put one hand on John's
shou der as the latter rather discontentedly resumed his seat
and laid a finger of the other solemnly against his nose. Ir'
the moonlight a wink of infinite meaning could be detected in
his left eye. The brothers, taught by long experience, awaited
some important development.
"Brother John," resumed the captain, with his finger still
significantly pressed against his nose, "you're a liar, and you
know it. You've been making game of me with this cock-and-
bull story about shipwreck and all the rest of it."
Luke was abo .o protest against this sudden incredulity on
the part of his kinsman, but John at once put his hand over
the other's mouth.
"Hold your jaw," said he, in his brother's ear. « Don't vou
see he's working it out ? "
" Ilave you toid anyone else this yarn about the loss of
the schooner ? asked the captain.
" Hadn't a chance," replied John. "Only met two women
and a bov. and couldn'f make 'pm nn/iorcfop^ „ .„„_j >»
All the better. You might have bamboozled them, and
had another sm on your souls. You won't bamboozle me."
a IRcnt Squire
127
:he nearest
line of the
tiions, and
ith a con-
nan which
iged looks
ith a slap
" that's it !
rest baulk
le captain
lis recent
n to me."
lies — the
>n John's
I his seat,
lose. Ir
itected in
', awaited
nger still
and you
:ock-and-
iulity on
and over
•on't you
; loss of
• women
im, and
me.''
John listened with all his ears.
aP ?°"t1' uS'?^^ ^ '^°'^ ^'■°"' ^'■s* to last. Lost the Royal
Mary? Rubbish! Why, you infernal liar, you know she's
ridmg at anchor, safe, sound, and trim, this very moment ' "
John kept his eyes fixed on the captain, awaiting a clue
to these cryptic utterances. The other brothers nudged
Them ' '" ^°^^" ^^""^ ""^"^^ ^^^ ^°' ^ ^'^^'^ *^®y^"^
" That's how you've left her," resumed the captain, " and
you know it. I suppose you're having a look round, for a
day or two, m these foreign parts. Quite right. Uncommon
glad to see you all before you're homeward bound again If
j:L"VwT.'e To London" '''°" ""' '''' '='"^' ''" '^"^
suitL'haV'to foK "'^ """''^ ■""" "' '''' *'"""'^ -hat
I' We can manage that, I daresay," said he.
And don't tell me or anyone else any more lies."
brothlrs. '''''' ^""^ -^^^^ '°°^'^ significantly at his three
"You'd better stay at the 'Prinz van Oranje' till I'm ready to
weigh anchor. If you meet any Englishman, and hav^to answe?
left ?hT'Jp°"''7Jj' '"V^t ^^"^^ ^"^ ^^^"^^ *he devil. You've
InH It T- f«r-^ d'scharging part of her cargo at ?"
and the captain looked expectantly at his half-brother
Johns imagination was not his strong point. However he
made^a desperate effort to be equal V the occasLn 'and
" Ostend."
"Of course," said the captain, in a pleased tone '« Nnw
about that same craft. I wan^t to Jee her!^ I'd like to'know her
cut, colour, and rig, so that if she happened to heave in si^ht
tZX^o.^:'^^:^^'^^^ ' ^^-^^^"- her!^Th^>sl^J
a |^%r Erta^^f rs' -'-'' -^^-^^ ^^-^ ^^^
^Something like that," said he.
skiD Jerlhl""^'' '^^ ^^'Y^' ^->'^'" ^^'^ the captain. " I'm her
fo^rcVo^^^^ ^"' '^^^ ^g^-- I« ^he'any bigger thaa
!! ^)?°".t 5.^™e tonnage, I expect."
^^ vvnats ner paint?"
" Black hull, white stripe."
" What's her figure-head ? "
I ■«
!'■
'■\>
128
^ l^ent Squii'e
Fine
^^"ToJ.Tsll,,,:^.''^^"^^ ="" ''■='" San
which aSe t'/mt:' iZ h"aH r"^'"^-"' ""= ^""^ "' Lys,
wa. now a leprous and faded .^n" P"™"^'' Pale blue, a^d
represented a monstrous flower unknown^ 1 1'" . fig"f^-head
and held in a corrcsnnnrfiS ""''"°"" '° botanical science
satisfied with whMwas'^Mss^ni''^, "°"f r^ "^'^ Then, asl
to Ws kinsmen. ^ '""« "'™8'' •"= "'nd, he motioned
" Up, boys ! Come to the iettv anrf r-ii
there waiting. I ,eft her with &£", b„v "''' '^ °"^ '^°'"''
^. The party moved on until some ^^ sheds came in
" l"d' n^ rnt^'ou t''be see",; "" ' ■"■""•^'" -"^ ">^ -ptain.
" LuctvT.^ "'^ ^"'P' boarbtlmpty"' "" '^"^- ^"'"d
his mates. All the better » ^^'^^^^""8 rascal has gone after
^-^^^Ff^!^et;r^::^Tl "^^.i'^^^-"^. and rowed off
no^ reply. ^ ^"""'"^ alongside, he hailed, and received
•* Look-out drunk," he soliloquised « l^w ,\ u
He made fast, and climbed th^f.n^ , J '^ ^^"^'^ ^gain."
the ship's side. ' Arrived on deek^^^^^^^
pu^apra^-;-ppa£rs - ^- --■
to thV^&^^Xte 'Vouid' £^ter" '-' V«°'"^ ^^^
rr^ny „i!is-r :;;rt B'c^r ""^^^^
eabin, without anybody belne a h^, ''".T T "" "^V '" ™y
go ashore in the mornin. a„d nP?* '^ "''*>'■ ' "'">«
come back. ThereT be iltioni r ""■" u'"=>' "" y" 'iH I
your jaw while I'm gone NnhL ^°"','"" J""" ">"=' hold
D'ye see ? " * ™°'""'i' ""« know you're aboard.
the'c'^t^L^t'the^dSytd r'ow'^ X^^' ""'<'=' ^"""ed
& ,f^,,%T" l/T"^^ !^-'^^^- — "'.l-^t th"'
stop rowing. ^'' brothers, m an alarmed Tone, to
^
■r Sail. Fine
■ Fleur de Lys,
pale blue, and
er figure-head
anical science,
Then, as ii
, he motioned
if our boat's
»eds came in
the captain.
e sheds, and
ty. Arrived
as gone after
d rowed off
md received
etter again."
anging over
e forecastle,
t was heard
3oat again,
going back
"d the brig
3 drunk to
way in my
>■• I must
you till I
must hold
re aboard.
, followed
2 J^/eur de
ing in the
i tone, to
a Ifvcnt Squire 129
"What's the matter?" asked the captain.
"Brother Mark," said Luke, in a trembling voice, "haven't
we seen that brig before i " '
The three other brothers turned round to look at the
J'/eur de Lys.
Luk^"'"^ '^''^ "''" ^J^-iculated Murk, "you're right, brother
rhl^^''i"^''*-^*'if^u^'-''"° l^utchman we passed in the
Cha inel," said Matthew. '
impatiemlyl'''^ ^°" '" ^'"'^'""^ ^^^°"^-'" ^'^^^ ^he captain
.^':^\^!^'^:J:^^ "^"'^ "'^'""^^' "^'^ ■-'^ ^^e first time
" Well if you've seen her twice, what of that ? "
We didn't like the looks of her," said Luke. " She'd had
the plague on board, and there wasn't a soul to navigate her."
^^ How the blazes do you know ?" asked the captfin.
We saw It written on a flag. She was steering herself
without any crew, unless she had boggarts aboard."^ '
Ihats so, echoed the others, with the earnestness of
superstitious terror. cduiesiness ot
"Rot!" roared the captain angrily. "She came into mv
arTlnd'^not T' h' 'T '^""^^"^^"' ^" ^ hTaTthy'as yoi
are, and not a word of your d d plague or bo^p/rf^
,hJ''^ l'™*'^" hesitated. But after another exordium from
heVpfucTedTS?' ,"'* ^''" ""'^ ^'S°™»^ -l*'^e"
ro«n|idf .he*£'t ThT^^^^^ZnEel' «S1o ^H^
H Ji""' ^' r ^^''^ ^^'^^^y seen, was somewhat stinted in
dimensions by reason of the sleeping-berths around if Bu"
the latter point was to the advantage of the cantain's n^n
and the four brothers were soon sleeping the slee?of the^ ust'
m their respective bunks. ^ J"^^
^n t; far"sidr<j' t t^^i^rT^itr'Y'';!^'
instead of letting it ride astern Lh k^ , ?" ?.^ *°'''='
he pictured the les^all'o^Srj'niuckytt";'."' '° "'"^'"^ "'
i;?o
B mcnt Squire
I ■ '
1 .
If -"* I
CHAPTER XVII
CAPTAIN KERMODE MAKES RKADY TO SAIL
On the following morning the captain rowed himself ashore
ear y, m order to have two or three hours at his disposal before
making his promised visit to the duke's lodgings. He found
the cabin-boy waiting at the jetty, divided between iov at
seeing that he was not to be accused of the loss of the dinghv
and apprehension at the possible consequences of his neglect
the previous night. ^S'ci,l
These were promptly forthcoming in the shape of a moderate
application of a rope's end; after which the captain proceeded
to inquire after his missing crew. The cibin-boy's information
enabled him to find all six of them, lying dead drunk a^S
asleep, m an outhouse at the back of a tavern, where they
had been kindly stowed away by the proprietor as soon as
their room became more profitable than their company.
Satisfied that they were safe and within reach for the time
being, the captain proceeded to do a little shopping.
He bought a considerable stock of tar in barrels, several
kegs of white and other paints, and some powerful shin's
carpentry tools, including a huge double-hand saw
Ihen he went to two or three shipbuilding and wreckers'
yards in succession, carefully examining the bows and figure-
heads of various craft which were in course either of con-
struction or of being pulled to pieces.
Eventually he appeared to find something he had been
seeking, and had a little chat of an extremely confidential
character with the owner of the ship-yard. As a result of this
.nterview, the captain extracted a not very extravagant sum in
Dutch money from his capacious pocket-book, paid it over
to the shipwright, and went on his way to the duke's hotel
At the door, surrounded by a little crowd of gapers, stood
\ T\"'^'''^ -^'^^ r' ^"'"g "^°""ted by an Iquerry, and
which had evidently already done a good day's work
Cardonnel was on the doorstep, and handed the equerry a
letter as soon as he was in the saddle
" To M. de Buys," said he.
„, Tu^' ^Zll"^ States-General agent to the English court, now
rn, nril ^TK '"'"'^'''"^ '"=^tructions from Heinsius and the
Council. The equerry bowed and rode off. Cardonnel
turned to the captain. ^draonnei
ML
iiself ashore
iposal before
He found
rveen joy at
"" the dinghy,
■ his neglect
f a moderate
n proceeded
information
ink and fast
where they
as soon as
)any.
"or the time
r
>•
rels, several
erful ship's
w.
d wreckers'
and figure-
ler of con-
: had been
confidential
;sult of this
ant sum in
aid it over
ce's hotel,
ipers, stood
juerry, and
ay's work,
equerry a
court, now
IS and the
Cardonnel
a "Kent Squire ,31
fnr'^nT^TU Captain Kermode. The duke has been asking
for you. That was the equerry of the baron de Bothmar," he
observed as they mounted the stairs. " The baron will be
?o m'"ik ^u *'°"''-. ^^'''^ '' ^^^ c^P'^'". my lord," he said
to Marlborough, openmg the door of the duke's private roorS
St Geor^o nr^.^"p ^"'''''"^' ' ?'"''^ ^^ '^'^ chevalier de
nL,- T i r^*- ^-'■'"a'"' assunng the Pretender of his
continued and fervent devotion to the cause of the Stuarts
and h.s determination to leave no stone unturned to secure
for the queen (meanmg thereby the widow of Tames II)
the dowry which the English government had taken ca^enc^e
to pay over He further urged the king, as he called him' on
no account to retire into Italy, which would probabh^ be
demanded by the Tory ministry as a condition of peace ^ To
quote from this letter, as we find it in the Stuart Papers?
tvmli^ fi?'^^ •"! ^^^ '^^"P'^ '^'" ^^ gradually opened. Thev
will see their in erest in restoring the King. ". . The French
kmg and h.s ministers will sacrifice everythng to their own
views of peace. The earl of Oxford and hi! assocSeHn
ofobah ; '^^"'^ "'""'V*''^ S^°""d °f 'heir adversade ?• vv l"
probably insist upon the Kings retiring to Italy But he
must never consent. ... To retire to Italy, by the livine God
IS the same thing as to stab him to the heart I ofrce^ve
what I have done." f^/ ^17yea4/w?s'Luh1r ^l?om '^^^^^^^
the royal family, nor ill-will to their cause ■ but to h!,mh -
b'eLsrto^£-,-^/or^- -^^^^^^^^^
been done, favoL'SfcZe of the^^in^ ' .^God^'wi olul:!
above, seems visibly to dispose all fortlie best As for J,?
I have been treated unworthily • but God has bles;pH mVf .^^ '
great deal of temper and forbearance oF m?nd As fo he
Kings affairs, occasion is only wanting tnm„ ;.,i V 5
Almighty has placed matters in sS a fra n SJt if. ?°^
any rate succeed," etc., etc. ' * ^^ """^^ **
in fhV nrel"''nf v' ^ 'r?'^'"^ '"''^'' ^"^ ^^^ not found time
* The Whigs
i1
»3a
H Ikcnt Squire
before to the elector of Hanover, and of which a rough draft
lay on the table b'^'ore him.
Having finished, signed, and sealed up his letter, the duke
handed it to Cardonnel.
" Let the chevalier's messenger return with this at once,"
said he.
Cardonnel addressed the cover of the letter and went out
with it. The duke turned to Kermode.
" Well, captain ! ' said he affably.
" Good day to your honour," responded the captain, pulling
.lis fort lock.
" The baron will be here in a few minutes. You had better
wait. He may decide to sail today. Shall you be ready ? "
"We could weigh anchor at five o'clock, your honour; the
tide won't serve before then. But most of my men got drunk
last night— I'm doubtful if they'll be fit for duty. I daresay
I can make shift till morning with the cook and the boy.
Wind and weather's as fair as can be."
The duke reflected that the cargo of the Fkttr de Lys was
not one to run any risks with. On tlu other hand, he was in
a hurry.
" Better get some more men," said he.
This did not suit the captain's views at all.
" Lord bless your honour ! " said he, " that would be sheer
waste of wages and rations. Even if we had to wait a tide
behind your honour, we should pick your honour up in the
twelve hours. The brig will sail three knots an hour faster
than the queen's ship."
Although this appealed to the duke's notions of economy,
he was loth to entertain the idea of parting from his treasure.
But he was afraid lest .some suspicion should be excited by
too obvious a reluctance to let the brig go out of sight. The
Channel was so notoriously free from privateers, apart from
the popular belief that peace was imminent, that it was absurd
to affect concern for the brig's safety.
" Very well," said he, at length. " Be ready. Put your men
under hatches if you can't keep them on board otherwise."
" Right, your honour. But "
" Well ? "
"Just now they're too drunk to be got aboard unless they're
boisted in."
**' Then hoist them in."
" Easier said than done, your honour, with only a cabin-boy
fit to bear a hand."
1
a fjcnt SqiUre
rough draft
r, the duke
s at once,"
i went out
ain, puHing
had better
ready ? "
onniir; the
I got drunk
I daresay
i the boy.
de Lys was
, he was in
i be sheer
vait a tide
up in the
lour faster
economy,
s treasure.
2xcited by
ght. The
I part from
vas absurd
your men
wise."
;ss they're
cabin-boy
133
'I Gut a couple of men from the Mermaid to help you."
VVil your honour give me a letter to the captain?"
1 he duke scrawled a short note.
"Take this," said he, pushing it across the table,
retired!""" ^^""^"^^ P'^''^^ "P '^e paper gingerly, saluted, and
(^!^l}'' descended the stairs a great commotion was heard.
Outnders ga loped up to the hotel, and the rumbling of half a
dozen travell.ng-carriages became audible. Everybody ran to
the doors and windows as a distmgu.shed personage vvISi a
gorgeous retmue, drove up to the door. This was th^ baron
von Bothmar envoy of the elector of Hanover at the court of
bt. James, and now en route to London.
out'ofMs clrSge' '"" '° "^^'^^ ^^^ '''P^^'"^^-^^ ^ ^^ ^^t
'« ilr Kl'Tf "'^ ^^^"'''' "^y ^^^' ^"'^e." said the b-ron
Dehghted to see you again. My august master charges me
with his warme". grec'ings to you." ^"^ffees me
" His highn ss know that he has no more devoted servant
TheT^ ''\''^ " V'"^^' ^ ^h^y -^"^ upstairs "^
.7 5f oaron s. nk into r fnuteuiV, and panted.
^.JS u ^ ■ -' ,>?unger," he remarked. " But you my
dear duke have me elixir of perpetual youth." ^ ' ^
for .K the contrary," soM the duke, "it is only my anxietv
the secur'y Tthe^rV'.' ^'''''''''' success^on'an/'fo
II ^5^""ty,pf the elector's interests that keeos me un of
dTetheSotsi;^ --^^ ^^e Pretender!^^^"A;i°d^ tt
'« It fs"fnJ^/h.l^''"'!J^ ."""'' ^^ combated," exclaimed the envoy.
It IS for that, and to urge the prosecution of the war tha
we^rrvTinTon^Jn'^Th ' ^°""^ ^^-^^^ /ssitn^^Vh'en
off at an haza^Ss." ^^' P"'"" negotiations must be broken
]] ^tf 1 hazards," assented the duke.
"We shall be resolutely seconded hv M de Bi— ^ u-__
A reruarkably able man, M. de Buys > "'' '"' ''' ' ""^''"
134
a Ikeiit Squire
ll
.1 I
|);i
" And now, as to our voyage— let me thank you again for
your goodness in offering me a passage in her majesty's ship.
You are quite sure I and my people will not inconvenience
you ? "
"Not in the least. But you must not look for luxurious
quarters, my dear baron. I am afraid we shall be packed
rather close. The Mermaid is only a small cruiser— not a
ship of the line," explained the duke, who did not wish to
be bored with more of the envoy's company than he could
help. " I think I can promise you better accommodation in
a week or so, if you like to wait for one of the frigates calline
off the port." ^
The baron cogitated. He liked to be comfortable, and
knew by experience that wherever Marlborough went other
people in some indefinable way always found themselves very
much in the background. But his instructions were to get
to London with all possible speed, and the result of even a
week's delay might be dangerous. So he made a virtue of
necessity, and replied,
" That would deprive me of the pleasure of your company,
my dear duke. No ; let us get to work as soon as possible
When do you sail ? "
"We are only awaiting your convenience, baron. This
evening's tide will do for me, if it will do for you."
"At what hour?"
" Can you be on board at five ? "
" Certainly. That will give me six hours' blessed sleep in the
interval." And the baron yawned portentously.
Marlborough rang his bell, and Cardonnel entered.
" Make the baron comfortable in my room," said the duke
"and don't let him be disturbed till four o'clock." '
" You are too good, duke," said the baron, rising, and yawn-
mg more widely than before. "You must pardon me— those
horrible roads have prevented me getting a wink of sleep the
last three nights."
Cardonnel took the baron off to the duke's bedroom.
When he returned, he bore a letter which he handed to the
duke.
"By a special messenger from the earl of Godolphin, in
London," he said
"Let him be well treated, and wait. Probably he will
go back with as= And tell Kermnde thnt the Ms-naid sails
this evening. He must keep company with us if he possibly
can."
I I
I
1 again for
jesty's ship,
onvenience
r luxurious
be packed
ser — not a
ot wish to
I he could
odation in
ites calling
table, and
i^ent other
lelves very
ere to get
of even a
I virtue of
company,
3 possible.
an.
This
leep in the
the duke,
and yawn-
ne — those
sleep the
bedroom,
ed to the
9lphin, in
ly he will
•j-^.-v :i_
■ritliu 3UII3
i possibly
&\
a IRent Squire 135
Cardonnel bowed and went out. The duke opened the
letter and read,
"Dear Jack,
Come back without delay. Medina has ratted, and the Tories
are on the scent of the army contracts.
GODOLPHIN."
" Gad ! it's time I was off," said the duke to himself, as he
burnt the letter in the stove behind his chait.
CHAPTER XVIII
CAPTAIN KERMODE CHANGES HIS CREW
Captain Kermode paid a visit to a tobacconist's shop before
lookmg up his truant crew. Here he inquired for the
strongest snuff obtainable, and bought some rappee, warranted
to coax a sneeze from the nose of a stone gargoyle.
Putting this in his pocket, he made his way to the tavern
where he had left the sailors asleep in the outhouse. Four of
them were now awake. Three were sitting up in the straw
and bawhng for liquor. The mate, actuated by a certain sense
of his official responsibilities, was holding his head under the
P,"T.P S'^^ ^" unkempt stable-boy pumped upon his bald
skull. 1 he fifth was beginning to stretch himself and to erunt
snatches of uncouth melody.
The captain apostrophised his crew with all the objurgatory
Dutch epithets at his command, while privately congratulating
himself that they were stili by no means inconveniently sober
He then invited them to come aboard without delay This
they positively refused to do, unless they had another drink
nrst.
It suited the captain to wink at this very incomplete sub-
ordination. ^
"Bring a bottle of Schiedam and glasses," he called to the
pot-boy.
vai^shed^'^^"^^ cheered at this gratifying order, and the pot-boy
"^^^^ to the bar, lads," said the captain, foreseeing
u... ,{1^ ay ^jj currying out nis piuns in the open
daylight of the stable-yard. ^
The sailors followed him, with devious tracks and an
136
B Ikent Squire
Ir h
occasional stumble against the wall, into the gloom of the bar
The pot-boy put a huge flagon on the table, and retired. The
captam held the flagon up to the light
V\l'lTfu- " f '^K^^' u *^^ '■^''^' ^""^ g'^e" "« ^^on measure.
pLage "''' P'°P^'-" ^"^ ^^ ^'^"^ '"^^ the
and^^L'n^^rht ^o^tntpr °^ ^""" ^"^° ^^^ ^-'^'
liq^oT.tnne'n^b: ^ ''■ "^°^^' ^°^^' ^-" --^h t'^e
.pInH ^'■^^, ^^°Pt^d the first suggestion with alacrity; the
second mvolved some little difficulty. But by getting the six
men to al^n themselves in a row. arm-in-arm^, iTthe ma e
at one end and the captain at the other, a gridual approach
was m course of time efl-ected towards the jetty ^PP'^'^^n
bv^ir^'^K^^ u^ water-stairs, the captain and the mate, assisted
With considerable trouble, but without accident, they were
?oreStir Thf '^'^f'? '''^ ^'^ ^° >«-- them i/to the
forecastle. This was all the more difficult because all the
seamen, except the mate, were beginning to feel the eff-ects
without any necks being broken. The cook, now awake and
It was about three o'clock. The captain got the brig
ready for putting to sea with the ebb-tide, and waited anx.^
ously for the arrival of his purchases of th; morning These
whhin'X T ^'^f "^ '^r'^^ afterwards, and were^ followed
\Mthin the hour by a large wooden crate or box which
was floated alongside. This case, it may be rSemioned
contained the wooden figure, more Ihan life'size! ofa womar!
with a rough crown on her head. Doubtless the capiain
!n n.nt'^'° T^ f " ^^^^^'-^^'^^ ^°^ hi« ga'-den at home
.n Deptford, after the manner of seafarin| men with an
establishment on shore.
Two men brought the crate, towed behind eir boat
Prompted by the expectation of a glass of grog. : ^ey assisted
the captain in getting it on deck and into the hold by r^efns
of the windlass and a block at the gaff-head. The mate
served ont the promised liquor, and the men rowed away.
At has, -past four a gig came up from liie Mermaid with an
anquiry from Marlborough as to the brig's readiness to s^l"
)f the bar.
red. The
measure,
t into the
be bottle,
with the
rity; the
ig the six
the mate
approach
, assisted
■ de Lys,
hey were
into the
i all the
e effects
it below
ake and
id make
:he brig
^d anxi-
These
followed
, which
ntioned,
woman
captain
t home
vith an
r boat.
assisted
■ means
e mate
y-
with an
to sail.
.| a •Rent Squire ,37
Nothing was said about the proffer of help made in the
mormng. Probably the duke had forgotten all about it
Ihe captain, who knew that the Mermaid, from her heavy
fh.TI 'k''^^^^.""'^ cross the bar at high tide, sent word
that he hoped to start before seven o'clock.
Half an hour afterwards the Mermaid weighed anchor and
passed slowly out into the darkness.
About eight o'clock the captain, for reasons of his own
got into a furious rage with the cabin-boy, paid him a week's
wages, and had h.m put on shore by the mate. When the
alter returned the captain hoisted sail, dropped down w th
the fag-end of the ebb, and steered out to sea n the direcdon
taken by the Mermaid. The masthead lights of thrS
could be seen on the horizon.
In less than an hour, to the captain's unsoeaJ'ahlP
satisfaction, a thick fog came rolling up from the Sh Sea
o^hot'coff^e """""' '"''^ '"^ ^°'^ ^™ ^^ -^^^ t-° bow!^
tillhtloestcl''^ '""'" "'' '^' ''^"^ ^^^"^ "^y '^^ -heel
HnJAl ''?"'' u^^'l °? ^""^ ^^'^ ^^P'^'" hastily proceeded to
Wmself.' ''' °^ ''^'' ''''^ ^""«'- '^"h^ "^^te presented
"Put this inside of you,^' remarked the captain. " No
more grog, and no off-watches, till those blackguards below
are ^sober enough to work the ship. This'll kelp your eye"
The mate drank the coffee without much enthusiasm,
the c^pta^n ' '""^ '""^ '^' '°°^ ^ere," continued
his^^SsoTtdln^ ''' ^°°' ^^^'^"^^^^ ^'-^ -^- -
ou;;'?;"^ tL%c!' "^ "'•"' ^"^ ^'^^^ ^^ ^«^-^ ^^ ^-^
This was done. The captain locked the door as the cook
S^abin^^ ''' '^'-''^''^^^ P--^^ of tL^dtc^n
"We must be wide amike now, boys," he whisoered
brother' '" ">' '''"•" '"P"''' J"''"' f" himself and
«nSa'ichS"'iS;r„:;;:yrLeS;°Lr"- "°" '■"
138
B •Rent Squire
The captain went on deck. The cook was asleep under
the bulwarks forward, and the mate was nodding and lurching
as he stood by the wheel. The stars shone overhead, but the
horizon was lost in mist and the wind was freshening. The
captain kept an eye on the ship's course and waited.
A quarter of an hour later the mate sank to the deck, rolled
over on his side, and snored stentoriously.
The captain left the helm, went to the cabin door, and
called his half-brothers. The four men silently emerged upon
deck.
"You must stow these two fellows in the fo'castle," said
the captain, pointing to the recumbent forms of the cook and
the mate.
The brothers laid hold of the two men and deposited them,
heavily asleep, in the forecastle. The captain returned to
the wheel, altered the brig's course, and steered for the north.
The fog came up in vast wreaths, cold and impenetrable.
It swept over the Fleur de Lys, and the brig disappeared as
if by enchantment.
« H
" The brig disappeared."
-Pane LIS.
\ ■
i
fe'"*'
1: '
f 1
f ":
1:
1
'' !.
BOOK n
H (Sreat treason
tS9
I-
■
^H
I--'
1
PTTTj^r
■t ."'
f
1
^Hi f '
mL't'l
LU^
H ikcnt Squire
141
CHAPTER XIX
THE ABUt GAULTIER IS SUDDENLY INDISPOSED
The two days which followed M. de Torcy's departure from
J^aiais, on his journey to Antwerp, were spent by Gwynett in
interviewing various officials to whom he was introduced by
^" R^SHTu r?"'- ^'' ^°P"' °^ '^^'^^y ^^^^"•"g something
01 Randolph Dorrmgton were disappointed. Neither the
name nor the individual seemed to be recognised by any
of his ;nter ocutors and there was no record which could
be Identified with the missing man in the police dossiers of
he province. It became, therefore, a question of waiting
the^ result of the inquiries at headquarters set on foot by the
fn^^'^f i-" ^'^e evening of the second day a courier arrived hot-
" My dear M. Gwynett,
rr,Li^J^\^^^ you to do me the favour to make good all the
marks of removal of the cases in the F/eur de Lys, a" we
arranged M^Daguerre is instructed to afford you the necessa^v
fac.ht.es for doing this alone and unobserved^ When effected
£:Vatraf 'o-^ce! ^'^ ^^"' ^^ ^^^ ^^*« '^^ "^^ ^^^^^^^
If you will honour me by staying a few days at mv h6tel
in Par.s we shall no doubt by thit time hea? all thS is to
be learned about your missing compatriot. The beare- f this
^" ^^^°''- DE TORCY."
Gwynett decided at once to accept the invitation, and wrote
a reply accordingly. This he proceeded to hand to M
Daguerre, whom he found in a state bordering on distraction
at the contents of the letter he had received from the marquis
Was ever anything so unlucky ? " he lamented to Gwynett
I am completely at a loss; and the marquis makes it a
matter of urgency."
" What is the matter ? "
" First of all, he tells me to put you on the
and leave "ou
necessary
m
onir
im;.
\l again,
t privacy for as long as you find
Is that inconvenient ? "
Not at all. But I am to remove certain cases from the
h'(t-u
■'ul
li , .
ii
If !-.
■■Jit.-
f:-ll
14a
a Ikcnt Squire
mi^
hold of the brig, and A.- ward them instantly to Paris under
escort and in charge of a thoroughly experienced and capable
officer, who will have a very grave responsibility in the matter
he says.
u U^^^^ ^^ '^ ^"'^^ "S^*- ^"^ ^'^^t 's the difficulty ? "
My dear M. Gwynett, I haven't a soul to send. They
robbed me of nv only capable officers a month ago to take
a couple o< oiuupfin .^-s of the garrison to marechal de Villars."
^ n ♦ ! r* not absolutely necessary, I suppose. One
of your stai; would do just as well."
" There is the misfortune. The two best men on my stati
are ill— m fact, one is at death's door— and the only other
subordinate I could trust has been sent on important business
to Dunkerque.
I! S^""°^ ^^^ ^<?«^'i . ui mc j:L'enri Quatre help you ? "
' Both are short-handed, and in addition they have to find a
crew for this Fleur de Lys. It appears they are under sealed
orders to sail with her under their convoy as soon as you
can place her in their hands. She has been refitted for the
purpose."
Gwynett pondered a moment, and then passed the letter he
had received from de Torcy over to the governor.
" Can I be of any service ? " he asked.
The governor read the letter with attention.
" I gather from this," he remarked, " that the matter of these
cases IS fully known to you ?"
" Decidedly. I may say that the whole affair I.as been in
my sole charge from the beginning."
The governor looked infinitely relieved.
•* Under the circumstance.- monsieur," he said, " I i^ink
I am more than justified in accepting your very kind otfer.
Otherwise," he added, " it would be a- unheard-of proceeding
to delegate such a duty to anyone not .u his majesty's service
When can you ca ry out the neces-^ary arrangements ? "
" If you will first remov • the cabt;s to your galley and then
leave mr !one on board, shall have done all . want to do in
an hour. Ve can then siart at any time you choose."
" I will make the requisite arrangements to-night, so as to
lose no time m the morning."
The gov^jrnor rang for '. s servant and gave him a message
for Lestraade, the boats.vam of the galley, -ho lived ^ short
distance from the govemorr r juse.
The servant went off to execute his commis-^lon. It was
about ten o'clock a light Turning a -ornei sharply, he
.
a fcent Squire ,43
nearly ran into a . tleman who was leading his horse by the
bridle as he walkc along. ^
i.'i^ru''"?'''*'^'^ P"' ^°"^' "monsieur," exclaimed the servant
Who the deuce are you ? " asked the gentleman. " I seem
to know your voice."
^^The servant lifted his lantern and then hastily took off his
"Why, it is M. . .bb^," said he respectfully. "I am
Jacquot, monsieur-Pierre the coachman's brother, from
lieauval— if monsieur does nic the honour to recoil- :t."
" That's it," said the other, who was the abbd Gaultiei " I
am not often mistaken in a voice, or a face. What are vou
doing here, Jacquot ? I saw Pierre the other day. He is at
Marly with madame la comtesse."
"I am in the service of the governor, M. I'abbd. I came
here with our sister Madelon three years ago. Monsieur's
thTabhXS. "'''''' Jacquot. turning' his lantern on
"Yes. I have had to lead him the last hour, and it has
made me laf They were full at two auberges i have caltd
at, and I haven't found a lodging yet."
" Monsieur need not trouble about that if monsieur will
excuse humble accommodation. My sister, madame Lestraad.
where I am just going, has a nice little spare room, which wui
"'ti;''/ ^ fjf "monsieur's disposal. There is a stable also"'
That will do admirably," said the abbe. " I am tired to
death. Lead on, my good Jacquot "
laniem!" ''"'^ ^ ^^"^ ''^^'" ' '''" ^^ ^"^^'^ '"°"«'^"'- ^'^h the
Jacquot took the abb^ to a neat little house with a garden
cottages. A light in the li ing-room indicated that the
occupants had not yet gone to bed. Jacquot knocked at Ihe
"Open, Madelon," he called out.
in */d^o™" "''*'"™' ^"^ " '"■^o™ ^-'"8 woman stood
^S^^ol^^P' '"'^ ''"'■■ """'^* '^™SS you here at *U
7mJl !;!1"°",' tr =.!?-?'.■ ■---•'-but since you
t_.': -
-.it
M. laube Gaulticr i ere,
were living 'here. I have
Madelon Tl .ave promis'ed h,m"your"'spa"re7oom"."
II
Ik
I if,
mi. .'I ■
h ;r
\
144
a Ikcnt Squire
Will monsieur do us
" M. I'abbd is welcome," said she.
the honour to enter ? "
The abbd fastened his bridle at the porch and went in
Jacquot says you can acconrnodate both man ind beast "
^^'.. i!"-'- . .^ y°" ^ ^°''"er of the stable for my horse ' " '
Certamly, monsieur."
"And a bed for myself? "
ho'noJr'^°"''^"' '^'" ''''^^^' "^^'^^ ^^ ^"'^•''' ^^ '^'" ^° "' ^'^^^
" On the contrary," said the abbd, seating himself in a great
arm-chn. before the fire, "it is a pleasant surprise to come
across owes own people so far away from Beauval "
A door at the back of the living-room opened, and Lestraade
the boatsw^am came m. He saluted the abbe, and Jacquot
explaintJ his double errand. J-icquoi
h /^;J^ gouverneur wants the galley at eight o'clock," said
he. 'You must have her ready to land some heavy cas-s
from the brig that came in the other day, and take tackle with
you to hoist them out of the hold."
Lestraade nodded, and Jacquot turned to the abbd
T « / Z P,f ^'°"' ^^''^ '" *h^ st^^'e, monsieur, and
Lestraade will see to him. I have the honour to wSh
monsieur a very good night."
oe "S"°?u "'^'u J "l^ S"""^ Jacquot," said the abb^, with a nod
as he thrust his hands into his breeches pockets '« I will
remember to tell the comtesse I have seen you "
"We are madame's most humble servants," said Tacquot
as he went out. ^ n^^h
Mrdl°nirmid;;:" ^"'-''^^ ^^'^ ^ ""'^ ^^pp^^^'" -gg-^^d
.kkT''!!^''^'^- '' u°^ ^'!^ '^°'^' '"y good Madelon," said the
st^^i v'T ^™''^^ °/ ^'^ riding-coat and boots and
stretching his egs out at full length towards the genial wood
have one "'" ^'''"''^'"g' ^"^ ready to eat your baby, if you
Lestraade sniggered solemnly at this pleasantry, while
Madelon produced some plain but appetising fare ' and a
bottle of mn du pays.
in uk'd^^^ monsieur prefers schnapps or cognac?" sho
.f^°"f!"L^°°^fl_^^^^^^!"^-l^o"le^ decidrd in favour
■T .n,. ^•-•ynac, and ucspaicnea nis supper with much gusto
Lestraade took up the abbe's boot, to clean them 'and
put the riding-coat over his arm.
a "Rent Sciuii'c
MS
eur do us
it in.
ncl f)east,"
orse ' "
> us great
in a great
to come
I'Pstraade
Jacquot
•ck," said
Lvy casos
ckle with
;ur, and
to wish
1 a nod,
"I will
facquot,
iggested
said the
3ts and
al wood
, if you
, while
and a
>" she
favour
5tO.
m and
" Monsieur has had a long ride," said he.
" From Lille," said the abbe. " I must leave my horse
somewhere for a short time, as I want to cross to Dover
to-morrow, if I can. Is old Lernux in Calais ? "
This was one of the fishermen who did a little occasional
business in the way of conveying passengers and letters
surreptitiously across the Channel.
" Yes, monsieur."
" When doiis the tide serve ? "
" About ten o'clock, monsieur."
is reld'''"''*" '^°' ^ ^^'"'^ ^ "^'^ ^° ^° ^^"^ "°^' '* "^y '°°"^
candle '^ ^"'^^ ^^^^^'' '"°"^'^"'"'" ^^'^ Madelon, lighting a
The abbd rose, took up his valise, and was duly inducted
mto his sleeping-chamber. In five minutes the walls were
vibrating with his stertorous snores.
.h!!^" ^VTf ^^'^u '" ^^^ morning, having been summoned
about eight o'clock by Madelon, he found an old sailor-
looking fellow waiting for him.
" fit^! m^''°"'''t ''''"^ ^^' ^' ^^ '^* ^°^" to his breakfast,
'Yes?M.Sb'.'''" "°"'"^' ' ^"PP°"^"
" Can you manage it for me ? "
"Certainly monsieur. As it happens, we are takine letters
from milord Middleton by the next tide "
thJi'^'^'V " ^''''^ t^ ^^^^' '^"ghing. " l"know nothing about
present. Be a little more discreet, my good friend "
Leroux grinned and picked up his hat.
Monsieur can be ready at ten o'clock?" he asked
thl offing/' '""^ ^'"^' ^'"^' '"^ ''-' '^^y ^^- to ^ow out into
^^j'_^I shall be punctual," said the abbd « Do your men know
" Only one, monsieur — Lafareue."
"The elder?" ^
the'e^v^rZ'?'^^!!' '^! ^^""^^V, '^^^ ^^her is in the crew of
ine governors galley at present.
"Tell him to hoKi his tongue about me. if possible • he ,\
rather a gossip, if I recollect rijht." possible , he is
*" "cry good, monsieur."
10
146
a "Rent Squire
'I I ;fil
" What does monsieur wish done about his horse ? " asked
Madelon when the meal was concluded.
" Can Lestraade do with him here ? It is a good beast ; I
I shall like to leave him
This
bought him the other day in Paris
where he will be taken care of."
" That can be managed, monsieur."
" All the better. I may be back again in a fortnight
will serve to go on with."
The abb^ handed a couple of pistoles to Madelon, slung
his valise over his shoulder, and took up his hat.
"Have you any message for the comtesse?" he asked
pleasantly as he went out. "I shall tell her, for my part,
that the prettiest girl in Beauval is married to the best-
looking fellow in Calais."
Madelon expressed her appreciation of this compliment by
turning red all over.
" ^ propos, is there any little Lestraade ? " asked the abb^ at
the door.
" One, sir— a boy," replied Madelon, curtsying.
'• I swear I never heard a sound of him," said the abb^.
" It is a beautiful-tempered child," said Madelon fervently.
''Dame! he is clever, that child ; he is teaching himself to
be secretary of state," said the abbe. " When I am prime
minister, bring him to me, my good Madelon, and he shall
hold his tongue to some purpose. Adieu."
" A pleasant passage, monsieur."
When the abb^ got down to the beach, there was nearly a
calm, and it was clear the Belle Jeannette would require to be
rowed out of port. Leroux carried the abb^ on his back
through the shallow water to the little lugger, and deposited
him carefully in the stern-sheets. There were four men in
the boat.
" Weigh anchor, lads," said Leroux. " Get out the sweeps
and you, Lafargue, take the tiller." '
The sailor called Lafargue, who saluted the abb^ as an
old acquamtance and who seemed to be disabled from rowing
by a sprained wrist, came aft and sat alongside the abb<§. The
other four men applied themselves to the long oars, and the
Belle Jeannette began to leave the shore behind.
"Monsieur is quite comfortable?" asked Lafargue con-
fidentially as he stowed away the abbd's valise under the seat,
" I heard of monsieur from that good Lestraade this mornin"
early. Ihey were very busy at the brig." ^
Lafargue pointed to the Fletir de Lys, which had been put
I
:
a iRent Squire 147
to rights and was now in charge of a crew from the two
ingates. All three were hoisting sail.
"My brother, whom monsieur perhaps remembers, was
monsieu?? "'''"' °" ^^"'- " ^'''^''' ^ '""°"^ ^^"^'^ '^^''
" What is that ? " asked the abbe.
"Not I," said the abbd
Lafargue plunged into a long and considerably ornamented
account of the arrival of the jr/eur de Lys and her Tolkary
navigator, mentioning the unusual precautions taken to guard
her from inspection, and the mysterious proceedings on the
occasion of the marquis's visit to her.
"And they did the same this morning," went on the
loquacious Lafargue. "The officer was thi e alone not a
soul allowed on board for an hour. Then the goiemor's
galley came alongside, and the cases were hoisted in.^^
What cases?" asked the abbd, who had not been able to
make head or tail of the story. ^ ^°
"Eight heavy chests out of the brig's hold, monsieur Mv
brother said they had to be very carefSl. If one of them had
slipped it would have gone clean through the bolmTf the
The abbd pricked up his ears.
nodouu!^' '''" "•' '" "^^•' >-^ ^- the bullet-factory,
Lafargue shook his head with a smile of superior wisdom
lead Th"'"'"''""'- -^'^P'" ^°"'t '"^^ ^" that troube about
lead. They are going to send them to Paris."
At this stage of the conversation the abbd chanced counfe
nance and gave a little groan. ^"angea counf..
"Have you any brandy, my friend?" he <wiVl *« t
who was pulling stroke. ^ ^o Leroux,
undeMhT'se7"'i%IZ'^\S^T'' P°'"^'"g to a locker
swell a little eh ? Sf ^''^' Lafargue. Monsieur feels the
swell a ttle eh ? But monsicMr ,s usually an excellent sailor."
offered him "So von^h^'. ''l^^' ''^''^ ^ P"" ^' ^he flask
pS-'rwenttrLatgu^'^^ "^ ^^'^"^ ''^'^ -- to
J' {.^""P"^ 't, monsieur. My brother told me th. w».„.^
ThHI^A' ^""^ ^•'^/''^o^»~'''x men and an officer?" ' """
ove?histoLT"' ' "^°"' ^^™^' -^"^ ^'-P^-'^^ ^- hands
I
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148
a Ikent Squire
i
" Monsieur is not ill, I hope ? " said Leroux.
The abbd really looked very unwell. He leaned against
Lafargue and groaned again.
" My good Leroux," he said, speaking with apparent
difficulty, " I cannot go on. You must put me ashore. I
am afraid I am going to be very ill."
"At once, monbieur," said Leroux, backing water, and
signing to Lafargue to put the tiller over. The boat was
pulled back, and the abbe' was carried ashore.
** You must take a letter for me instead," he said, as soon
as he was landed on the beach. " I won't keep you a
minute."
He sat down on an empty keg, and with many groans
opened his valise. Taking paper and pencil, he wrote in
cypher as follows :
" Mv Lord,
M. de Torcy has gone suddenly to Flanders. I followed him
to the frontier, but it was too dangerous to proceed farther.
I wait instructions in Paris.
Gaultier du Fresne de Beauval."
This he sealed, with the aid of a light struck for him by
Lafargue. Then he addressed it to the earl of Oxford, in
London, and handed it to Leroux with a pistole.
'* I rely on you," he said.
" It shall be put in safe hands, M. I'abbe," said Leroux.
" Shall Lafargue stay and attend to you ? We can spare
him."
" No, I thank you. I can crawl as far as Lestraade's.
Don't wait, or you will lose your tide."
"Then good day, monsieur. We shall hope to hear better
accounts of you when we come back."
Leroux and Lafargue returned to the boat, and it put off
again. The abbe walked slowly and painfully up the beach
and to Lestraade's house. He explained to the surprised
Madelon why he had returned, and then retired to the room
he had occupied the night before.
When he had entered and shut the door, he straightened
himself, took a pinch of snuff, and seemed to be suddenly
convalescent.
" What a chance ! " he muttered to himself. " And to thir k
I should have known nothing about it ! Ritrht r' -^sts hf
.said. Gold or silver, I wonder ? "
And the abbd sat down to have a little serious cogitation.
I
a Ikent Squire
149
<»
L-fc U
CHAPTER XX
THE CURE OF STE. MARIE GENESTE
A MILITARY waggon, drawn by eight horses, and escorted by
half a dozen mounted troopers and an officer, was approaching
the ' Lion d'Or ' of Font St. Michel, near Doullens, on the road
to Amiens. Maltre Jerome, the host, had espied the cortege
afar off in the dusk of the late November twilight, and was
wondering if a little business was to be forthcoming, or other-
wise. Standing beside him in the wide porch of the rambling
old inn was a man in the dress of a priest, with a shovel-hat,
and a wrapper round his neck and chin which covered nearly
half his face. He wore enormous blue spectacles and a grey
wig, and had a large black patch on one side of his mouth.
" Here are guests for you, maitre Jerome," said the priest.
" I passed them half an hour ago."
"The Lord be thanked ! " replied the host piously. "That
is, if his majesty's soldiers have had any pay lately, which is
doubtful."
" Take a cheerful view of things^ my good host. If the
troopers cannot pay themselves, they cause other people t«
pay. All the rustics will crowd in to drink with them."
•' In any weather but this you would be quite right, mon p^re.
But we have had so much rain the last week that half the
peasants hereabouts are house-bound. Roads and lanes are
mipassable. In the valley on the other side of Doullens there
are six feet of water on the high road, and the bridge has
been carried away."
This information seemed to interest the priest.
•| Then how are folks to get to Amiens ? " said he.
There is only one way till the water goes down," replied
the host. "Along the hill-side through the wood of Serras.
past Ste. Marie Geneste."
,. "A lonely place that, if I recollect right," said the priest.
1 ere Germont used to be cure there years ago, I think."
" He IS there still," said the host, as the wagi^on-party drove
up to the door. " Will you alight, mon ofticier ? " This was
addressed to Gwynett, who was in command of the escort.
Can you accommodate my men and their horses?"
"Twice as many," said the host. "Olii! Mathieu ! take
ces braves to the stable."
t ,
150
a Ikcnt Sduirc
An ostler ran out at the summons and led the cavalcade
under an archway to the left. Gwynett followed the waggon
as it was taken over the rough stones into the yard of the inn.
'* Parbleu ! " said the priest to himself, " now that I see him
plainly, I recollect him. It is the fellow who was with de
Torcy at Versailles. These things hang together, evidently."
The priest went out into the road to look at the western
sky, and cautiously took off his blue spectacles in order to
see better. Their removal revealed the abbd Gaultier, other-
wise very well disguised by his patch and wig.
"More wet coming," he soliloquised. "Now if it will
only rain a deluge to-night, something may be done with my
dear friend Germont. Thac is a stupendous stroke of luck-
perfectly providential, as they say in England."
He put on his spectacles again and returned to the porch.
Gwynett was asking the landlord about the state of the roads
to Paris, and maitre Jerome repeated the remark he had made
to Gaultier respecting the by-road past Ste. Marie Geneste.
The abbd got into the rear, and listened unobserved.
" How far is that from here ? " asked Gwynett.
•* About six leagues, monsieur."
" A bad road, probably ? "
" Impossible to be worse. It would take monsieur all the
day to get there."
" Is there any cabaret or tavern thereabouts where we could
put up?"
" There was one till the other day— Jean Loriot's. But he
died last week, and I believe it is shut up."
Gwynett shrugged his shoulders.
" Then we must go on to Amiens during the night," said he.
" In the meantime, let us have some supper."
" At once, monsieur."
The landlord went towards the kitchen, and in the passaee
met Gaultier.
"Maitre Jerome," said the latter, "I have changed my
mind about my supper."
" But it is quite ready, M. le cur^," .said the host hastily.
" All the better. But you have laid it in the public room,
I perceive, and there are fresh arrivals. I do not cure for
company, my good host, especially the company of troopers.
Neither their manners nor their language usually conduces
to the comfort of a man of my profession."
The host scratched his head.
"Will monsieur have his supper in the kitchen?" he
B ftent Squire
«s«
suggested doubtfully. "It is quite at monsieur's service.
Only we have been curing bacon, and "
"Pardon, maitre Jerome — all I meant to say was that
I will take my supper in my own room, if j'ou have
one ready."
" Certainly, M. le cur^. There is a charming room, which
was used only last night by the bailiff of M. le comte de
St. Pol, on his way to Ste. Marie Geneste. I assure you he
is very particular, monsieur."
" That will do," said the abb^. " I will go to it at once.
And I will get you to send my breakfast there also."
The host showed the way to the room in question,
ushered the abb^ into it, and returned to see after the
supper.
" When do these people leave you ? " asked the abb^, as
the host ropippeared.
" I heard the officer tell the men to be ready to start at
eight o'clock in the morning, monsieur."
" What an unholy hour ! " grumbled the ahh6 to himself.
" But the less they see of me the better." Then he said aloud,
" That is quite lazy, my good maitre Jerome. I must be
on my road before that. Let me have my breakfast at seven,
and my horse ready at half-past. It is raining, I hear ? "
"Heavily, monsieur." And the host went out, leaving
Gaultier to finish his supper and go to bed.
* * » * •
About noon the following day, which happened to be fine,
Gaultier pulled up his horse at a cross-road in the wood
of Serras. A peasant was approaching from the lane on the
left, and the abbd waited for the man to come up.
" My friend," said he, " does not the curd of Ste. Marie
Geneste live somewhere about here ? "
The hind, who was attired in what were evidently his fete-day
clothes, doffed his cap.
"Yes, M. le curd," he said. "The house is up this lane.
I am his servant."
" Does the lane lead anywhere else ? "
" No, monsieur. But there is a track across the common
afterwards."
" And this one opposite ? "
" That goes to the farm of Grandprd, monsieur."
" AnH etr>r\o ihora y-l/->«»r. .'«. .«„•. a )»
. ,..., .,,.^,,.^ \i.w"_3 il nut [
" Certainly, monsieur."
The abbd nodded a dismissal, and the hind went on his way
1 .
I I
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152
a f?ent Squire
'' /
towards the farm. Gaultier rode forward a short distance
examining the forest through which the road took its course'
It was rather dense at this point, and the trunks of the pines
and oaks rose out of a tangled thicket of undergrowth inter-
rupted by deep gulhes and pits, and stretching as far as the
eye could reach. Several thick-branching larches of great
sjze bordered the roadway and overhung it. On either side
the thicket was practically impenetrable.
" It is all very much as I recollect it," soliloquised the abb6.
Nothmg could be better, I think. It remains to be seen
whether my sainted friend is also what he used to be. If not
I have still the two other strings to my bow— Beauvais and
bandncourt. Ah ! what is this ? "
A little farther on three or four trees lay felled on each side
of the road. The fallen trunks were denuded of their
branches, which had been sawn into short lengths and lav in
piles at the edge of the thicket.
" Admirable ! " said the abb^ to him^-elf.
He looked round for a few minutes, and then, turning his
horse, rode back to the cross-ways and took the lane to the
"!• u ,^5i"^''*^'" of a mile brought him to a group of buildings
which had the appearance of an old manor-house turned into
a farm. No traces of cultivation, however, appeared in its
neighbourhood, and the only sign of occupation was a faint
column ot smoke ascending from one of the back chimneys.
1 he abbd rode into the courtyard, and knocked at the door
of the mam entrance without dismounting. No one attended
to the summons, and he knocked again. After an interval
steps were heard inside, A bolt was withdrawn, the door
swung backwards, and a man appeared on the threshold.
The newcomer was an ecclesiastic of slight, spare' build
about sixty years old, with shoulders rounded' as if by per-
petual stooping, severely aquiline features, piercing eyes almost
lost under thick eyebrows, and a mouth which was scarcely
more than a line. He looked at the abb^ without a trace
of expression.
";^^f/ my dear Germont," said the abb^, "anyone
would think you had forgotten me."
At the words the cure lifted his eyebrows as if m recoe-
nition, and moved a step for'vards.
"Come in," said he imperturbably. "Your patch and
wig and spectacles are very surcossful."
The abbd dismounted, and was about to fasten his bridle
to the porch.
I
a IRent Squire
153
1
get
am
" Put your beast in the stable," said the curd, *' while
you something to eat. You must excuse ceremony,
alone to-day."
" All the better," said the abbd. He led his horse in the
direction indicated, and after having provided for its comfort,
so far as a mouthful of mouldy hay permitted, he returned to
the porch and made his way to the back of the house. The
curd awaited him in a sort of library, the walls of which were
covered with bookshelves and cupboards, and which was
lighted by a skylight. A pan of eggs was boiling on a char-
coal stove in the corner, and a loaf and cheese stood on the
table. The abbe sat down and looked round.
" Nothing seems changed," said he. " It must be ten years
since I was here last."
" Possibly," replied tne curd, in a tone which suggested that
time did not exist.
" Your work goes on as usual ? "
" As usual."
" Any results ? "
" Some. Not expected ones."
" Am I interrupting any process ? "
" Not at the moment. In half an hour I must attend to
some preparations."
The cure put the eggs on the table, and motioned to his
guest to fall to. Gaultier addressed himself to the modest
meal, and ate with an admirable appetite. The curd took
nothing, explaining that he had already dined, and waited till
his guest had finished. He then led the way through a
narrow door, between two crowded bookshelves, and ushered
the abbd into a long, low room fitted out as a chemist's
laboratory, furnished with a furnace and chimney, and lighted,
like the other, by a skylight. Evidently the cure had an
objection to people who peer through windows.
"You will wonder what brings me here," said Gaultier,
seating himself in an ancient arm-chair which stood in a
corner.
"An old fr'end is always welcome," replied the curd,
examining a test-tube very intently.
" We have not seen much of each other of late," went on
the abbd, gazing curiously into the recesses of the half-lighted
apartment.
as you say.
" You have not yet discovered the philosopher's stone, my
friend ?
«S4
ii liv
H 'Rent Squire
" Not yet."
"You still keep up your researches ?"
" For certain things — yes."
•' Hampered a good deal, as of old, by a light purse. I
presume?" o i w, *
"Of course. Latterly I have managed somewhat better
1 can sell some of my medicinal preparations in Paris A
niece of mme, a widow, has a herbalist's shop in the Rue
Beauregard— Mane Latour— you saw her here before she
married."
" I know her very well. She doe.: quite a big trade with
certam ladies of my acquaintance."
"I believe so. But my experiments are all more or less
costly, and swallow everything."
" If such is the case— what the mischief is that ? "
The abb^ jumped up hastily as a confused scratching sound
was heard behmd him. ^
"Only my rabbits," explained the cure, pointing to a set of
hutches on shelves, which Gaultier had not noticed in the
obscurity.
»^?^\^.°y°" ^""^"^'^ *° ^^^P rabbits?" asked the abb^
1 he whole country is swarming with them."
"They are useful to take my medicines. I am obliged to
keep them out of sight here, as you may suppose "
" I do not quite see why."
" Sonie of my preparations do not agree with them. It
would discourage my customers if they had the opportunity
of noticing that." ff j
u D ^"^t'u' ^^^^ ^^ reasonable," said the ahh6 meditatively.
Hut I have some news for you, which you may find better
worth your attention than giving rabbits preparations which
do not agree with them."
" I am at your service," replied the curd.
"First of all," said Gaultier, « I s-e they are cutting the
timber in the wood. Whose is it ? "
"Everything hereabouts belongs to the comte de St. Pol
Ihere has been a twenty years' law-suit about the wood
or the comte would have cleared it away before. His bailiff
was here yesterday and to-day, making a start."
" To be sure— he slept at Pont St. Michel. They have
begun at the roadside." ^
" Naturally.
^ - 1 "«^ njv:i i\ji ail UUUa
while some of my preparations were brewine "
"How?" ^'
uijo inornmg,
^
J
B ftent Squire
«S5
" Guiding the trunks with a rope, so that they should not
block the road in falling."
The abb^ seemed lost in gratified surprise.
" That is curious," said he. " Do you think, my dear
Germont, you could do just the reverse — if you tried ? "
•' In what way ? "
" Sup^-^sing — mark, I only say supposing— you and I took
an axe ; ■ i a rope — probably you have both ? "
" Yes."
" Supposing you and I took an axe and a rope, do you see
any difficulty about our felling one of those trees so that it
should fall across the road ? "
" None. But why ? "
" Good ! so far. You said you were alone ?"
" Gilles has gone to Grandpr^, two miles off, to assist at the
wedding-supper of his sister."
" I met him."
*' He will not return till the morning."
" What neighbours have you ? "
"There is a shepherd's cottage half-way to Grandpr^.
Nothing nearer."
" Good again," said the abb^, " I should like to look over
the stables. I did not take much notice just now."
The cur^ opened a double door at the end of his laboratory.
It led into the stable-yard of the house, and he went out with
Gaultier.
The stables had stalls for a couple of dozen horses, a relic
of long-past days of prosperity for the manor-house. Adjoining
was a stone outhouse, divided into a coach-house and a shed
by a massive oaken partition, each section having an equally
massive oaken door opening outwards. The partition itself
had a door between the coach-house and the shed. An old
waggon stood in the yard, so close to the door of the shed
that the latter could not be opened more than a couple of
mches. This building was of one storey only, but the stables
had a loft over them, reached by a ladder through a trap-
door. On a shelf inside the shed stood a row of copper
cans and a couple of kegs, from which emanated a certain
pungent odour.
In the middle of the yard was a well, surrounded by a low,
moss-grown v/all, and covered with a rotting wooden lid. Near
it lay a couple of planks, between which tall tufts of grass had
grown undisturbed.
The abb^ observed all these details with minute care.
56
a Ikent J5qu(rc
li^i.
I3t ■■
\Vhere is your well-bucket and rope? " he asked.
We dent use that well now. I^ gave out years aeo. f-.r
some reason or other-probably a landslip, 'j'here is anoti.er
in the orchard at the other side of the 'house which never
fails us.'
"Thi orchard with that bottomless pit of a carp-pond in
the far corner ? ' ^ ^
"Ah! you recollect the carp pond . i', the carp have
all been poached, unfortunately, or I would have -iven you
a fine supper." •'
The abb^ looked at the shelf.
" What have you in your cans and kc-s ? " he asked,
rurpentine and rape-oil. That is part of my stock-in-
trade. 1 distil the turpentine and crush the rape-seed in mv
laboratory, and sell the oils to the farmers. Thai has the two-
fold advantage of doubling my income and o( accounting for
my apparatus in an orthodox manner. Otherwise I should
probably have been denounced to the 'chainbrt ardente '
before this. The ' affaire Voysin ' is still recollected here-
abouts."
Of the 'chambre ardente' and the celebrated trial of La
Voysin we shall have occasion to speak later.
" Have you any cider to spare ? "
** Certainly. Our apples have always done well."
" And the poppies ? "
The cur^ looked sharply at his guest. Gaultier lauglied
^ My dear Germont, I am sure you do not neglect to
IPC nide laudanum amongst the things you ask your rabbits to
ojge.sf . IJut perhaps you are sold out ? "
•" -Naturally I have laudanum," replied the cur^, in a tone
sviiicii implied nothing.
(b.ultier took a final glance round, and turned back towards
the house.
1 1' 1^1? "°^ recollect having tried to fell a tree since I was a
ad a Beauval," said he. " H..w long does it take two men
to cut through such trunks as I saw over there ? "
"Say an hour," replied the curd, as they re-entered the
laboratory.
The abbd looked at his watch.
"Plenty of time," he remarked. "Your man was dres.sed
m his best when I saw him. What has he done with his
working-clothes ? "
" Probably they are in his attic."
" You can show me the attic ? "
B ftent Squire
»S7
"Of course."
The abbd rubbed his chin softly.
" My dear friend," he said, tfter a pause, "will you do me,
for your and my joint benefit t e favours ? "
" \v hit arc they?"
" First, will you continue y r recreation of this mor ing,
and help mo to cut down one more tree for the bailiff of
M. de St. I'ol ? Secondly, will you immediately aft rwards
have an urgent call to a dying parishioner at about two leagues
distance, who will keep you all night ? "
The curd looked meditativi 'y at G ' Uier.
" Is it permittc<l to ask why all these tilings should h ippen ?"
said he.
" Certainly. But it may not be wise to know — yet."
The curd pondered, v ith his eye on the ^bbd.
" How much is in (j n ? " he asked after a pause.
" I have not the slig Jea," replied Gaultier.
" There is a certain > .eness about that."
"Without doubt. 1 i. there is no vagueness about eight
heavy chests in a waggon, landed from a ship at Calais,
and an escort of six troopers and an officer, bound for
Paris."
The curd did not reply for a minute or two.
" My curiosity has evaporated," he said finally.
" Very good. As to M. de St. Pol's tree ? "
" That can be managed."
" And your dying parishioner ? "
" I know one ill enough for the purpose. But who is to
bring the false summons ? "
" I, of course."
" Whom I have never seen before ?"
" Preci-sely."
CHAPTER XXI
THE ADliE GAULTIER MAKES HIMSELF (iENERALLY USEFUL
While the ubd was renewing his acquaintance with the
stable-yard of the presbytery of Ste. Morie Geneste, the
waggon under Gwynett's charge was being laboriously dragged
along the road towards the wood of Serras. The party passed
the crossing of the lanes just as the sun was setting. A
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m
158
a Ikent SQuire
1 1, '
i ||
il;-
couple of hundred yards farther on a man stood at ,h.
"ATth^rrol^^^^^^^^^^
A curve in the road revealed a hiitr^ fi.. fr«^ ki 1 ■
thoroughfare, with a «.ass of bmncheslwen ^fee °hS* an'd
reachmg a score of yards on either side imo the thck^t
suS7n"hl"'"'=' '" ""^ ""^- -^ "•' -Vcamelo a
" What does this mean, my man ? " he ask <^ r^f tu^
who stood near, admiring the troopers' horses *' ""''"''
Monsieur, it is the comte dp Sf Pni «,k^ u
to cut down sime of the timber » ^"^ ^'' ^•"'" ^"-^^--^
p^fiSicrsrck^^-fs^of^;^^^^^^^^^^
a whSmy'!"' " " ™'' ™' ~""^ P'^'' » *^ <i^'k out of
Then he asked,
" But why block the road ? "
'^{%S!^:T^-^ty.^^'> - passes
ihat does not prevent our wantincr tn nacc *i,-
t:r..i;^?^ -' '-^ .hroughCL^d tSis*pUi^
''None, monsieur."
noj!^''^ ^° 'hose cross-lanes lead that we passed just
alrSfy qi^aiLeT '"' ""^"^ """ ^^'^"^ *= -d" is
of Soii^f " ^' '"^ f^"- '-^' -d '-ned to the corporal
"We must bivouac here," he said "Tf ic f^^ i .
aSsi^tXiriSo^iS'ilii?;
ram has stopped." "''^Sgon. it is lucky the
acWle'dTr„t o'The o^" "' '"' '°'P-' -""«i '«
•*
At sik. AIaijik Uicnksti
■ I'aiji' /.",'/.
It: I.
M
m
I?
■
;
\
a Ikent Squire
'59
'Pardon, M. I'officier," said he, -it is going to be a wet
night, for all that. If you like to take your party to the stables
of M. le cure over yonder, you will have, at all events, a roof
over your heads. There is room there for twice as many."
" You are sure of that ? "
" Monsieur can easily satisfy himself"
Gwynett turned to the corporal.
" it is worth while finding out," he said. " I will go myself
and see." ^
He returned to the cross-ways, and rode up the lane towards
the presbytery. At the gate he was met by the cure, who
wore h:s hat and cloak, and was evidently on the point of
leaving home. Gwynett raised his hat.
• M. le cur6 of Ste. Marie Geneste ? " he asked.
The curd returned the salute.
"The same, monsieur," said he. "Can I do anything for
you ? " J b
" I find, monsieur, that the way to Amiens is stopped by a
fallen tree just past the cross-road^ Can you conveniently
allow my men and horses the shelter of your stables or out-
houses during the night ? We are upon hij majesty's service "
" Assuredly, monsieur. I only regret that I cannot offer
you any further hospitahty. But, unfortunately, I am at this
moment on the point of going away for the night to a distant
parishioner, and I have had to shut up the house, as I am
alone at present."
" We should not think of trespassing so far on your good-
ness, monsieur. All we want is a roof over us till morning."
"You are very welcome, monsieur. If you will follow me
I will show you • 'hat accommodation there is." '
Gwynett dismounted, and walked with the curd into the
yard.
"You will find the stables and the coach-house dry I
think," said the cure. "Over the stables, as you see, there
IS a good loft, with plenty of straw. Water you will get from
the other well, in the orchard there— this one has been out
of use for years. There is plenty of firewood in the outhouses.
Have you any food ? "
" We are amply provisioned, I thank you. You will permit
me to recoup you for our horses' fodder and any fuel we may
use ? ' '
The cure waved his hand in dissent.
" By no means, monsieur. What is here belongs first to
my poor, and secondly to his majesty."
i6o
a ment Squire
f
i ■
1 "
11
i\?
I'l;.
■hjl
"Let me, then, leave something with you for the ooor of
Sfr.'f't.rcur'" -'"' °-^-"' -""■■"« -°^p" or
of any further service, I will ask you to excuse me as the
night IS closmg in." ' ^"^
"Nothing I thank you. Should we have left in the
IToTpSy^' '°"' '''"'"' ''''P' °"^ ^^^"ks for you?
"I regret that that means so very little, monsieur."
The cur^ bowed and walked off. Gwynett went back to
h.s troop, and ordered them up to the house. The waggon
was drawn mto the middle of the yard, and the corS
asked Gwynett for further orders. corporal
" If we are to mount guard over it, M. le capitaine." he said
pomtmg to the coach-house, "why not do it under cover "'
Gwynett ooked at the sky and then at the coach-house the
door of which had just been opened by the peasant '
shalSereVht.''"''- "^"^ ^ ^^^ ^'^ - turn in. I
" h,^^J^?l' '''°" capitaine," said the corporal apologetically,
Pe'ople' m^srslTpT^^' ^"^^' ''''' "■^^^- ^^^'^^ ^'^ '^^'^'
Gwynett laughed, and clapped the corporal on the shoulder
You see, corporal," said he, "if you were on euard and
happened to take a little nap while someone-saylur friend
n the blouse there-walked away with a chest under each
arm your apologies would not console me at all. On the one
hand, I should have to have you hung, which I should regret
and on the other hand, when ycu were hung I shouKil
be a couple of boxes short."
As the peasant had by no means the air of a Hercules, the
corporal thought the idea of his eloping with the contents
of the waggon a very good joke. He repeated theToke to
the subject of It as soon as Gwynett's back was turned The
peasant grinned solemnly. c»^ turnea. ine
"AH the better for you, mon officier," said he looking
round mysteriously, and then putting his mouth to the oS
"Why?"
"There is a little barrel of cider in the loft." r^nlied the
peasant, in a confidential tone. . ' -x»iea tne
" Ah ! M. le curb's ? "
•>
i
a Ikcnt Squire
i6i
I 6
'No— it belongs to my cousin Gilles, the curb's other
servant. He has gone to a wedding-supper. We'll drink the
bride's health, if you don't mind."
" That would be only politeness," said the corporal affably.
" But we must wait till the captain has settled everything for
the night."
" What do you call your captain ? " asked the peasant.
" M. Ambrose Gwynett," replied the corporal.
The peasant started.
"That sounds like a foreign name," ^' ;aid, after a
pause.
" They say he is English. But M. le governeur treats him
like a brother."'
" Who is that ? " asked the peasant, with a stupid air.
" M. Daguerre, the governor of Calais, of course," replied
the corporal.
The peasant looked at him vacantly.
II Ah ! " said he, " that is a long way from here."
"You must ^e rather a stay-at-home, my friend," observed
the corporal, in a patronising tone.
The peasant shook his head solemnly.
" I served in Flanders when I was young," he said. " But
that is a good while ago."
"That is better than nothing. I thought from your voice
you were not such a yokel as you looked. Certainly a little
time with the colours polishes a man up wonderfully But
I see the captain wants me."
The corporal went after Gwynett, who was going to inspect
the loft over the stables, where the troopers were putting
the horses. f &
The peasant— who was, of course, the abbe Gaultier— looked
after them with a serious air.
"I must be very careful," he said to himself. " Evidently
my lout s twang IS not as good as I thought. But that name
—and an Englishman— it is impossible there can be two of
such a name. What a wonderful stroke of luck ' Truly for
once fortune favours the deserving." "
The abbe went oyer to the coach-house and looked at the
waggon which had been backed into it. Then he was visited
by a sudden idea He took a spade and bucket from among
a heap of tools which lay at the hank of th« '•o-ch hou- 3
went hurriedly to the cure's pig-sty round the "comer Tn The
orchard. He returned with a bucket full of manure, cast
a glance around to see that no one was in sight, and quickly
II
l62
a Iftent Squire
I '"
|i !
distributed the contents of the bucket under the waggon and
over the floor of the coach-house.
He then went into the shed adjoining, throup^ the door in
the partition. The floor of the shed was covered a foot deep
with ling or litter of cut heather. The abbe took down one
of the turpentine-cans from the shelf, sprinkled a couple of
quarts over the litter in all directions, and restored the can
to its place just as he heard the voice of Gwynett approaching
the shed with the corporal. The abb^ took care to be dis-
covered in the coach-house as the others entered.
Gwynett looked round and turned to the corporal.
" Let me have a couple of bundles of straw in that corner, '
he said, " and then you and the others can turn in."
" Very good, M. le capitaine."
The corporal went off". Gwynett advanced a few steps into
the coach-house and snifi'ed. His nose began to recognise
something rather unendurable in the atmosphere.
"What a disgusting stench!" he said to the disguised
peasant.
The abb^ looked at him with an air of surprise.
" Does monsieur find it disagreeable ? " he said.
" One could cut it with a knife," grumbled Gwynett, going
towards the door into the shed.
The abbd followed him respectfully.
" You see, mon officier," said he, " M. le curd keeps his
turpentine in this shed, and that really has a very bad
odour."
"Tastes diff"er, my good fellow. I don't object to this
at all. No one with an English nose could survive a night
of that other bouquet. I shall lie down here."
A light flashed from the eyes of the abbe.
" Can I bring monsieur anything to drink ? ' he asked. " I
think there is some cider in the stables."
Gwynett produced some bread and cheese out of his wallet.
" I will trouble you to show me the well," said he.
The a.hh6 pressed his lips together as he preceded Gwynett
to the gate leading into the orchard.
" Very good, my dear M. Ambrose Gwynett, of Thornhaugh,"
he said to himself. " That settles matters. You have had
your chance. If you will not suit my convenience by sleeping
till moining, you must sleep for ever. So njuch the worse
for you."
Arrived at the well, he said,
" Shall I draw for monsieur ? "
,4
a Ikcnt Squire
163
ggon and
e door in
foot deep
down one
couple of
i the can
preaching
to be dis-
it corner, '
steps into
recognise
disguised
ett, going
keeps his
very bad
:t to this
e a night
iked. " I
is wallet.
i Gwynett
rnhaugh,"
have had
y sleeping
he worse
" I can do that. Just tell the corporal not to trouble about
the straw — I shall lie on the heather."
"With pleasure, monsieur."
Returning hastily, the abbd met the corporal, who had
already thrown the straw down behind the waggon, and was
on his way to the stables. Gaultier rushed into the shed. In
a few seconds he had emptied the remaining cans of turpentine
over the heather, and had just replaced them on the shelf
when Gwynett returned.
" Pardon, mon officier," said the abb^, " I usually sleep in
this coach-house when M. le cur^ is from home. He prefers
to lock the house up. If monsieur has any objection, I will
go to the stables."
" Do as you please," replied Gwynett, going into the shed.
" Does monsieur find smoking annoy him ? "
" Not at all."
" I will see if the horses are all right, and wish monsieur
good-night. Ah, dame / I have dropped my pipe."
The abbe stooped, and his hand travelled close to the
ground for a couple of feet round the door-post of the partition.
As it did so, it was followed by a thin line of black powder,
which ended in the coach-house. The abbe rose, and put
something back in the front of his blouse.
" Will monsieur have the door here open or shut ? " said he.
'* You may as well shut it. Good night."
" Good night, monsieur."
Gwynett wrapped his cloak round him, chose a place where
the ling made a comfortable heap near the inner wall, and
sat down with his back against it. The abbe shut the door.
As he did so, he withdrew the thumb-plate, which he had
previously detached, and laid it on the floor.
The latch, a large and heavy one, was on the outside of
the partition door. As the other door was blocked by the
cart, Gwynett was now a prisoner. If the absence of the
thumb-plate should be discovered too soon, it ' .1, of course,
fallen on the floor accidentally. Nothing could be simpler.
The abbe went to the stables and mounted the ladder to
the loft. Here he found the troopers inbibing the contents
of a small keg of cider with discreet cheerfulness. The
corporal was nodding in a corner. Gaultier sat down on a
truss of hay and affected to drink with the others till the keg
was empty.
Ten minutes later all the troopers were lying amongst the
hay, fast asleep, and snoring stertorously. The abb^ waited
164
a 1kcnt Squire
d ;?!
tor a quarter of an hour, and then shook his nearest neighbour
roughly by the arm. The man took no notice of the effort
to disturb him, and continued to sleep heavily. Gaultier
made the same experiment with the others, and with the
same result. Then he descended the ladder.
" Now for the other," he said to nimself.
He took an armful of hay, and went through the yard and
orchard to a tumble-down piece of shedding amongst the
trees at the edge of the wood. Here he had left his horse,
ready saddled, with his valise strapped to the peak. He
put the hay in a rough manger, and listened for any sounds
in the surrounding fields and woods. Then he returned
to the yard and listened again. Profound silence reigned,
broken only by the barking of a dog at some cabin a mile
or more away across the country.
The abb^ went to the door between the coach-house and
the shed. He thought he could distinguish a regular breath-
ing, as of a man dozing or sleeping, on the other side of the
partition.
He produced a lantern from the corner where the farm
implements lay in a heap, lit it from his tinder-box, and set
it down near the door of the partition. Next he took a
pitch-fork and laid it by the lantern, filled and lit his pipe,
and listened again.
Then he carefully put his pipe, bowl downwards, on the
ground near the door-post, took up the pitch-fork, and waited.
A flash ran under the door, a hissing sound followed,
and in an instant the shed was filled with a roaring sheet
of flame. The abbe leaned forwaid, grasping the pitch-fork,
with his eyes dilated and his teeth set. He heard a stifled
exclamation, a sound as of some desperate struggle, and then
a terrible cry.
Silence followed. Volumes of smoke poured out through
the chinks of the door, and the abb^ had to step back to
avoid being suffocated. The outer door had apparently
not caught fire, but the thinner wood of the top of the
partition began to show red streaks.
Several minutes passed, during which no sound came from
the shed except the roar of the flames and the hiss and
crackle of the burning heather. The abbe opened wide the
door of the coach-house, which was filled with smoke, and
stood in the yard. The outer door of the shed, behind the
cart, showed dazzling gleams of light between the ill-fitting
I'iiibtrs.
H f<cnt Squire
«65
neighbour
the effort
Gaultier
with the
; yard and
ongst the
his horse,
eak. He
iy sounds
returned
; reigned,
iin a mile
louse and
;ar breath-
ide of the
the farm
K, and set
e took a
his pipe,
s, on the
d waited,
followed,
ing sheet
)itch-fork,
a stifled
and then
t through
) back to
pparently
p of the
ime from
hiss and
wide the
loke, and
ehind the
ill-fitting
After a time these gleams began to grow dull and red,
and the smoke to issue less thickly. Gaultier went back
to the coach-house, took a long hop-pole, and lay down close
to the partition door. There was comparatively little smoke
so near the suii'..ce of the ground, and the abb^ could breathe
without difficulty. He called to Gwynett, but there was no
reply. Then he unlatched the door, pulled it open, and lay
down again.
The upper part of the shed was filled with dense smoke,
but a foot or eighteen inches of clear air next the floor showed
a smouldering area of ashes and red twigs. The abbd poked
about with the pole as far as he could reach without meeting
with arj obstacle.
As the ashes died out and the smoke thinned, he advanced
on his hands and knees farther into the shed. He then
pushed the pole in all directions up to the walls.
In one corner at the back it met with a little resistance
which suddenly yielded, as if the pole had passed through
some soft substance. The abb^ turned a little sick. This
annoyed him.
" Diable ! " he said to himself, " what is there to squirm
about ? Our roh' is a Httle overdone, that is all. So much
the better."
He crawled back to the coach-house, took out his pipe,
and blacked it all over with the smoke of the lantern. Then
he tossed it carefully into the middle of the shed, replaced
the thumb-plate of the latch, and shut the door.
" Let us hope the intelligence of our worthy friend the
corporal will be equal to the occasion," he reflected. " Any
fool ought to discover now that it is a very dangerous thing
to take a nap with a lighted pipe in one's mouth."
He put the lantern, pole, and pitch-fork back in their
corner, and took a deep breath.
•' Now to business," he said to himself.
CHAPTER XXII
A DISCOVERY
At early dawn the next morning the peasant Gilles, returning
from Grandpr^, met pfere Germont entering the yard of the
presbytery.
i66
H Ikent Squire
im
•' Ah ! Gilles," said the cur^, "did all go well ? "
"Admiral iy, M, le cur^. We have only just left off
dancing. Monsieur has been away?"
" I was sent for last evening to old mbe Durand at La
Tourette. I don't know exactly why—she did not seem any
worse. By the way, a party of mounted troopers, under an
officer, asked leave to put up in the stables last night. See
if they have left."
At this point the corporal emerged from the stables lookinp
dazed and only half awake. He saluted the cur^, and turneu
towards the coach-house, the door of which was wide open.
It was empty, and the corporal's jaw dropped as he gazed.
"What is the matter ? " asked the cur^.
*'Mi7/e tonnerres!" gasped the corporal. "Where is the
waggon ? "
"What waggon?" put in Gilles, who was evidently
privileged.
" Did you put it in the coach-house ? " asked the cure.
The corporal made no answer, but rushed back to the
stables.
" The horses gone too ! " he muttered, in a terrified tone,
as he looked down the row of stalls.
" Where is your captain ? " asked the cur^, who had
followed to the door.
" I left him in the shed, M. le curd, when we turned in for
the night. I must tell him."
Gilles accompanied the curd and the corporal to the shed.
A faint smoke was issuing from between the cracks of the
door, and a strong smell of burning pervaded the air.
" What is all this ? " asked the curd. " It seems to me you
have been setting my shed on fire."
The corporal knocked at the door in the partition and
called out, but there was no reply. Then he opened the
door and looked in. Nothing was to be seen but blackened
walls and a bed of ashes and charred twigs on the floor.
Ihe upper part of the partition was still smouldering, and
spirals of smoke rose from it up to the rafters of the shed.
The corporal gazed aghast.
" Holy Virgin ! " cried he, " the captain has been burnt
to a cinder."
The curd knitted his brows.
" My friend Armand does not stick at a trifle," he said to
himself. "These little tricks are not too safe. We must
not have any mistake made."
H Ikent Squire
167
St left off
and at La
seem any
under an
light. See
les looking
ind turneu
vide open.
?azed.
ere is the
evidently
n.re.
:k to the
ified tone,
who had
ned in for
the shed.
:ks of the
air.
to me you
tition and
lened the
blackened
the floor,
ring, and
the shed.
'en burnt
e said to
We must
•' Where is your man, M. le cur^ ? " asked the corporal.
•' Ho slept in the coach-house."
•' Do you mean (Jilles ? He was at (Irandpre last night."
"No, his cousin, who was here — your servant."
'• I have no cousin," said Gilles.
" I have no other servant," said the curd.
The corporal looked very much disturbed.
" There has been some foul play," he muttered, " and that
yokel is at the bottom of it, I will call my comrades, and we
will search.'"
" Here they come," said the curd, as the troopers, having
discovered the absence of the waggon-horsey, made their
appearance at the door of the coach-house. The corporal
showed the awe-stricken men the heaps of ashes in the half-lit
shed. One of them removed his hat, and the rest followed
his example, as they passed one by one into the shed and
stood in a group against the outer door.
At this moment a voice, apparently coming from the bowels
of the earth, shouted, " Corporal ! "
"That's the captain," exclaimed the corporal, going forward.
Gilles sprang after him.
" He is in the saw-pit," cried he. " Take care, corporal —
the old planks must have rotted."
" Get the cart out of the way, and open the door," said the
curd to the troopers, "then we can see what we are about.
And fetch the ladder from the stables."
As the doors were flung wide open, the light entered, and
revealed a hole in the floor about two feet square, close to
the back wall. Its edges were of splintered timber, buried
in black ashes, and the aperture indicated that two or
three planks, constituting part of the floor, had given way
and been broken downwards. Gilles and the corporal
went up to it, testing the ground as they advanced. The
earthern floor ended about six feet from the back of the
shed, and was there replaced by planking, which extended
from wall to wall. This planking, like the rest of the floor,
was now covered with the ashes of the bed of ling which had
formerly lain over it. The boards appeared to be sound
everywhere except at the hole just mentioned, over which the
corporal was now leaning.
" Is that you, mon capitaine ? " he asked.
" Yes," replied the voice of Gwynctt. '" You must help me
out of this."
" They are getting a ladder, monsieur. Are you hurt ? "
1 68
a "Rent Squire
r ) 'i
" Something is wrong with my left arm. I don't know of
anything else."
The troopers here entered with the ladder, which was at
once put down between the broken planks. It descended
about eight feet, and then rested on the bottom of what
Gilles had called the saw-pit.
" Can you mount the ladder, mon capitaine ? " asked the
corporal.
" I think so," replied Gwynett, from below.
,T J^^ u-^^f ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^y> ^"^ Gwynett began to ascend.
When his head and shoulders came in view the corporal
started back. '^
" Milk tonnerres ! " he ejaculated. " What is this ? "
Gwynett's head, face, and shoulders were covered with
soot and ashes, and his features were scarcely distinguishable
rhe skm did not appear to have been burnt, but some of his
hair was frizzled up close to the scalp. He used his right arm
m mounting the ladder, and the left hung down uselessly in
Its sleeve. '
"Clear these splinters out of my way first, corporal," said
he, "and stare at me afterwards."
The corporal and Gilles extricated Gwynett from the hole
in the planking, which fitted him pretty closely, and assisted
him to his feet.
" Come out into the air, monsieur," said the cur^ " You
Tfr ^^Tf \ S'^'' °^ eau-de-vie. Fetch the flask from my
shelf, Gilles." '
Gilles went off, and returned with the cognac as Gwynett
was seating himself on the shaft of the cart. The cure drew
the stopper, and handed the flask to Gwynett.
"It is my own distilling," said he, as Gwynett took a
pull. I permit myself to recommend it as of the first
quality."
"You are perfectly right, mon pbre," replied Gwynett
appreciatively. ^
"You feel better, monsieur?"
" I thank you, yes. My head was stupid with the smoke in
there, I fancy. '
" And your arm, monsieur ? "
Gwynett put his hand up to his left shoulder
"As to that, monsieur, I don't know. This arm is of no
use to me.
" Permit me,'' said the cur^, passing his hand along the
sleeve. It is dislocated, evidently, monsieur. May I ofier
^■■1
a Ikent Squire
t know of
ch was at
lescended
of what
asked the
ascend,
corporal
?"
Ted with
;uishable.
ne of his
right arm
;lessly in
ral," said
the hole
assisted
. " You
rom my
Gwynett
jr^ drew
took a
the first
Gwynett
moke in
s of no
>ng the
I offer
169
my services to replace it ? X am obliged to be a little of a
surgeon, you know."
Gwynett reflected that he was still thirty or forty hours
away from Paris, and decided that an amateur practitioner
was better than none.
" If you will be so good, mon pere," said he.
" Here or indoors, monsieur ? "
" I prefer the fresh air, mon pl're."
The curd caused Gwynett's coat to be removed, and in-
structed the corporal how to assist him. In a few minutes
he had reset the displaced joint with a good deal of
dexterity and a minimum of pain to the patient. Then he
sent Gilles to fetch materials for a bandage, and a basin of
water wherewith to remove the dirt and soot from Gwynett's
face and hands.
" While I bandage your shoulder, monsieur," said he, " you
can perhaps explain what has happened. I presume the ling
caught fire in some way ? "
"Yes. But I don't know how. I as sitting with my eyes
closed, leaning against the wall, when suddenly the whole
place burst into a sheet of flame."
"Perhaps it was your pipe, mon officier," observed the
corporal, presenting one v, ;h he had just picked up amongst
the ashes.
" I was not smoking, and that is not my pipe."
•'Monsieur was alone?" asked the curd, with a shade of
curiosity in his tone.
"Your man was in the coach-house. He said he usually
slept there." ^
"I have already mentioned to the corporal, monsieur, that
the man you speak of is not a servant of mine. He is not
known to me."
Gwynett stared at the curd.
" Not a servant of yours ? "
" Not at all, monsieur."
" I am M. le curd's servant," observed Gilles, with dignity.
"He had the story very pat," observed Gwynett. '^" What
did It all mean ? "
" We know nothing of the man, except that he brought a
message to me last evening from a distant parishioner just
before I saw you. From what has happened, this message
seems to have been intended to get me out of the way for
the night." '
" Had he any companions ? "
1
'!« "
^ y
1
r
i-
*'
1 %<
r t,
« *
170
H Iftent Squire
" We have seen no one, monsieur."
" If it was not your pipe, mon capitaine," said the corporal,
" that scoundrel must have set the place on fire himself."
'« But why ? "
■ To steal the
waggon, mon capitaine, after you were
disposed of." And the corporal pointed to the empty coach-
house.
Gwynett bounded up.
" What ! " he cried. " The waggon gone ? "
" Decidedly, mon capitaine. We have only just discovered
it." ^
Gwynett stared at the coach-house with a bewildered air.
" Are the waggon-horses gone, too ? " he asked.
"Yes, monsieur."
" Did you hear nothing of all this in the night ? "
" Nothing, monsieur. We were all sound asleep — in fact "
and the corporal hesitated.
" Go on."
" Well, mon capitaine, I may as well confess it, that peasant
gave us a keg of cider, and he must have hocussed it, for we
slept like logs till a few minutes ago. Otherwise we should
certainly have been awakened by the noise of the waggon and
horses going off."
" Are our own horses gone, too ? "
" Fortunately not, monsieur."
" Saddle at once."
The corporal and his men ran off to the stables. Gwynett
examined the ground in front of the shed, and turned to the
curd.
" Have you any explanation to suggest of this affair, M. le
cure? It seems to have been carefully planned."
The cure shook his head.
" We have no thieves hereabouts," said he. " This is too
audacious for rustics. I think you must have been followed
from a distance by some clever fellows who know the country."
" It seems so. I am sorry that you are a sufferer as well as
ourselves. But I will endeavour to secure you compensation
for the damage done to your shed."
*' That is not much of an affair. I have rather to congratu-
late you, monsieur, on coming no worse off. How did you
escape the flames ? "
"It was quite simple, monsieur. When I found the ling
was on fire, I jumped up and began to push and kick it away,
so as to clear the place where I was standing, close to the back
i
I corporal,
elf."
you were
pty coach-
iiscovered
ed air.
fact "
at peasant
it, for we
ve should
iggon and
Gwynett
led to the
fair, M. le
his is too
1 followed
country."
as well as
pensation
congratu-
' did you
1 the ling
: it away,
the back
a Ikent Squire
171
wall. At that moment the floor suddenly gave way under me
and I fell through."
" I am r'"raid the planks were rotten."
"Ve,y , :;kily for me, it seems. However, in falling i
struck m ;;ead against the wall, and recollect nothing more
till I heard noises a few minutes ago. Then I came to
myself, and shouted from the bottom of the hole."
" It is an old saw-pit, monsieur, which I planked over
some years back, when we ceased to have any use for it. I
did not think of mentioning it to you, not suspecting that
the floor was insecure. But vtrhere is your cloak ? "
" I saw a heap of black rags close to the hole. I am afraid
that is my cloak. Probably I can get another at Amiens."
At this moment the corporal came back.
" Are we to fall in, mon capitaine ? " said he.
Gwynett turned to Gilles.
" Did it rain in the night ? " he asked.
"There was a shower about the time the moon set
monsieur," replied Gilles. " That was all." '
" The moon sets at four," observed the cur^.
Gwynett followed the trace of the waggon-wheels as they
left the yard by way of the orchard.
" Does this lead anywhere, M. le cur^ ? " he asked.
" There is a bridle-path across the common in the direction
of Arras. The cart-road, as you see, stops at this farm, and
we are shut in all round by the wood."
Gwynett stooped down to examine the ruts made by the
waggon-wheels.
" That brigand has had four hours' start of us," he said to
the corporal. "You see the rain has fallen on the tracks.
Mount your men, and bring my horse. You and I will
follow the track of the waggon, and the others must keep
behmd. ^
" Perm.it me to accompany you as far as the edge of the
copse," said the curd, as the corporal executed Gwynett's
orders. " It would not be easy to drag a waggon through
that underwood. But your men would, of course, have over-
taken It easily enough had it been removed by way of the
road." ^
Gwynett made no reply, but cast a last glance, dictated by
some indefinable suspicion, round the yard. No inspiration
resulting therefrom, he gave the order to proceed, and the
party left the yard. Gwynett and the corporal followed the
traces of the waggon on foot, their horses being led by
!
! i
172
a Ikent Squlve
the troopers behind, while the cur^ and Gilles took their
own course across the orchard.
Gwynett's head, rather dazed by the experiences of the
night, was getting clearer, and he began to be furious with
himself at the disaster to the expedition.
"It appears to me, friend Ambrose," he reflected, " that
nothing will teach you not to be an ass. It was no business
of yours to do little jobs for madame des Ursins, and you
might have gone to the bottom for your pains. Now vou
interfere to prevent M. Daguerre getting out of his messes
his own way, and the first clodhopper in the road makes you
ridiculous. The worst kind of fool is an obliging fool. In
tuture, my dear fellow, learn to be a fool pure and simple "
* f
p '
CHAPTER XXIII
A GAME OF HIDE-AND-SEEK
The direction taken by the wheel-tracks of the waggon was
towards the thick copse which separated the presbytery farm
and orchard from the common beyond. The ruts ran close
to the carp-pond before mentioned. As Gvvynett and the
corpora], following the tracks on foot, reached this spot, they
noticed a series of deep grooves leading from the waggon-ruts
to the edge of the water. The corporal smiled sagaciously.
Pardon, mon capitaine," said he, "but it looks as if we
should find the cases in this pond."
Gwynett looked at the pond, the bottom of which could
not be distinguished, and deliberated for a few seconds
" It is so childish," he thought to himself, " that a very
clever fellow might trust to our deciding it to be childish
We must not let any chance pass."
He turned to the corporal and remarked,
" Send a man back for that long pole I saw ir^ the coach-
house.
While the trooper went off, the cur^ came forward.
" I am afraid you will find this pond troublesome," he said
It goes by the name of the bottomless pit hereabouts, which
of course, is nonsense. But it is certainly verv deen " '
rT!..».n 13 ini. SiccpCbL blue, mon perei*"
" Probably just opposite."
Gwynett ordered the troopers to keep away from the pond,
a Tkcnt Squire
173
took their
ces of the
arious with
ted, "that
o business
i, and you
Now you
liis messes
makes you
; fool. In
imple."
aggon was
ytery farm
ran close
and the
spot, they
iggon-ruts
iously.
5 as if we
ich could
Is.
It a very
childish.
le coach-
' he said,
s, which,
he pond,
so that no confusion should arise from fresh footmarks
mmgling with the old. Then he made the round of the edge,
scrutmising the ground as he did so, for a distance of twelve
or fifteen feet outwards. He arrived back at the starting-point
just as the trooper returned wii.i the pole. Taking it from
him, he poked about in every direction as far as he could reach.
At that side the bottom sloped down at such an angle that
the water deepened a foot for each two feet of distance.
Nothmg could be felt except the tough clay of the bed and
masses of weed.
Gwynett then ordered one of the troopers to ride in care-
fully, sounding with the pole, and to feel with it for anything
solid. This was done to a distance of four or five yards
without result. '
"It the other side is much deeper, mon capitaine," said
the corporal, in an aside to Gwynett, " they would throw the
cases in as far as they could."
" Have you happened to lift one of those cases, corporal ? "
" Yes— that is, two of us did."
" How far could the two of you swing one, if you tried ?
A yard and a half.?" asked Gwynett.
do"b^f°V""^^ more, if so much," replied the corporal
*' Could four of you swing it any farther ? "
1'^ Very Httle— the cases are awkward to get hold of."
" Then why have we not touched one with the pole ? "
^" Perhaps they carried them right in."
"If you waded in with one, it seems to me you would sink
up to the waist."
" It is possible they carried them round to the other side."
observed the corporal perseveringly.
" It would have been easier to drive the waggon to that
side m the first mstance."
" Perhaps they hauled them in with our long rope "
JfLT "? X°°*'''^''^'' ^'^^^' o^ "^^" or horses, anywhere
but heie. If the cases are m this pond, why take the waggon
fardier ? You see, the track goes to the wood." ^^
lo put us off the scent," explained the corporal, with a
Wise ciir«
exhausted"'^ '^^^'" ''^'^'''^^ Owynett, who found the subject
The corporal smiled with satisfaction
"That is about what the thief expected," thought Gwynett.
He played for the gallery. We are no nearer than we were
: 1
1 ■/
J
i
l)
■i
* p'
174
a Ikcnt Squire
m
before. Then he said to the corporal, " In any case, if the
boxes are m this pond, they won't float away, and we must
try and recover the waggon. Let us go on."
" Should we not put a sentry over the pond, mon capitaine ?"
"The waggoner will do for that."
The party movv i on, Gwynett and the corporal still following
the ruts on foot, a >d the troopers bringing up the rear The
track came up to the edge of the wood.
" I am curious to see how the waggon was driven throuph
the copse," said the curd to Gwynett. "A little farther on
the path scarcely allows two persons to pass abreast, much
less a waggon."
Arrived at the spot indicated by the curd, the waggon was
found to have been driven by main force through a belt of
underwood. This was attested by Gilles, who said he had
passed along the narrow pathway only the previous evening
at which time the thick copse was untouched. Moreover the
waggon did not follow the path, which was here a perfect
quagmire, but reached the copse over some more solid ground
adjacent.
Gwynett halted the troopers, and went forward with the
corporal to examine the pathway.
1^ What do you make of this, corporal ? " said he.
" It is incredible, monsieur," replied the corporal. " Think
of driving a team of horses through a wall of bushes like this ! "
" How many yards of rope had we in the waggon ? "
" More than thirty, monsieur."
"That accounts for it."
"How, monsieur?"
Gwynett pointed to the mud in the pathway.
" What do you see there ? " he asked.
" Hoof-marks, mon capitaine, evidently— a crowd of them "
" Why ? The waggon-ruts are not that way."
A light began to dawn upon the corporal.
"They took ^he horses round by the path," he said trium-
phantly, "and then pulled the waggon through the bushes by
the rope. These people are no fools."
" I have been thinking the same," said Gwynett. " Forward
again."
The curd here approached to take his leave.
" I think you are fairly off my ground now, monsieur," said
he. I am alraid 1 cannot assist you further, so I will say
good day, wishing you every success. If Gilles can be of any
use to you, take him, by all means." '
it I
case, if the
id we must
capitaine ? "
ill following
rear. The
en through
farther on
east, much
vaggon was
1 a belt of
id he had
IS evening,
reover, the
■ a perfect
•lid ground
i with the
"Think
like this ! "
?"
of them."
aid trium-
bushes by
" Forward
ieur." said
I will say
be of any
"» -!<
a Iftent Squire 175
The corporal, who thought that Gilles might have an
accurate knowledge of any drinking-places in the backwoods
ventured to recommend Gwynett to accept the curb's offer. '
" He may be able to tell us of some short cuts, monsieur "
said he, " and how to keep clear of quagmires." '
"That is true. I thank you, mon phre, and will send him
back whenever he chooses. Adieu, for the present."
The escort moved on, and shortly afterwards emerged upon
the common. The ground fell away from the wood, and a
considerable stretch of moor lay before the party. Nothing
could be seen of the waggon or horses.
From this point Gwynett placed the troopers at wide
distances from each other to the right and left, to advance as
scouts, while he and the corporal followed the waggon-tracks
on foot. Gilles led their two horses. In some places the
waggon had travelled over close turf, tough and elastic, leaving
httle trace behind ; in others, the ruts were deeply marked
in wet sand or levels of stiff mud.
After half an hour's journey Gilles pointed to a slight rise in
the ground just in front of them.
"We are quite close to the road to Arras, monsieur. It
crosses the common in a hollow over there."
This proved to be correct. In a couple of minutes the road
came into view. The wheel-tracks led to it. and after entering
were lost. The surface hereabouts was mainly of loose
pebbles and gravel, and the so-called road had more the
appearance of the bed of a stream than anything else. If any
slight traces of the wheels had been left, some recent local
showers had effaced them. There were no indications that
the waggon had crossed the road and entered upon the
common on the other side. To seek further traces, Gwynett
set off to walk along the road in one direction, while the
corporal took the other.
At this moment the nearest trooper appeared on a rid^e to
the left, shouting and pointing to a spot in front of him.
Gwynett hastened to the ridge, and found himself over a
little hollow close to the road, but out of sight therefrom. In
It was the waggon minus the horses. He ran forward and
mounted the wheel to look inside. The cases were gone,
and there was nothing in the waggon but the coil of rope
before mentioned. ^
The troopers and the corporal came up, and looked with
some curiosity at their leader, to see how this fresh disaster
would be received. Gwynett's face, however, expressed
1l
' f
IJ ''
176
a Ikcnt Squire
nothing whatever. He ' -Id the troopers to leave the waggon,
and scout for the miss. , horses. Then he examined the
surface of the soil, and tne space— some sixty or eighty feet
—between the hollow and the road. He found the traces of
the waggon having been driven to its present position from
the road, but no mdications of any other vehicle or horses.
In a few minutes a trooper rode up with a couple of the
waggon-horses, which he had found in one of the numerous
hollows on the adjacent moor, nibbling at the scanty pasture
therem. Five others were discovered immediately afterwards
All these carried their harness, which had been simply un-
hooked from the shafts. The eighth horse could not be found
The recovery of the animals seemed to Gwynett to have
a certam meaning. He turned to the corporal and asked, as
an off chance,
" What is your opinion of this, corporal ? "
"Evidently I was wrong about the pond, mon capitaine »
confessed the corporal candidly. " It is quite clear that was a
bhnd, and the cases were brought here to meet some con-
federates with another vehicle. But we ought to catch them
—they cannot have got very far yet with that load, even on the
road."
" True. But as to our waggon-horses, corporal— what is the
matter witn them ? "
" The matter, mon capitaine?"
" Yes. It seems they are not worth stealing."
The corporal looked puzzled.
**No doubt the brigands had their own team," he said
finally, "and did not want to be troubled."
" You are probably right," said Gwynett, deciding that the
corporal was perfectly hopeless. " But now divide your men
and send them to the right and left along the road for ten
miles as fast as they can go. If either party comes to a cross-
road, detach a man to explore it, and rejoin the others if he
finds nothmg. Any discovery to be reported to me here after
the ten miles have been covered." '
" But shall we find you here, mon capitaine, if you have
found anything in the meantime?"
"If I go, I will mark the direction— right, left, or back to
the farm— on this broad stone. If you are in any doubt go
back to the farm. Now you had better be off. Use your eves
as you go along." '
The corporal despatched three of his men to the rit^ht
and galloped off himself with two others to the left. Gwynett
1
!48
1
I
I
he waggon,
amined the
eighty feet
16 traces of
sition from
horses,
jple of the
numerous
nty pasture
afterwards,
simply un-
t be found.
;tt to have
1 asked, as
capitaine,"
that was a
some con-
atch them
ven on the
vhat is the
" he said
f that the
'our men,
d for ten
o a cross-
lers if he
lere, after
you have
' back to
doubt, go
f'our eyes
le right,
Gwynett
a Ikent Squire 177
ordered Gilles to put the team of seven horses to the waggon,
and to drive it back along its former track. On arriving at the
first place on the moor where any very distinct ruts had been
made on the first journey, Gwynett, who was leading his own
horse by the bridle, caused Gilles to draw the waggon so that
its wheels made ruts close alongside the old ones. Then he
knelt down, and examined both of them minutely. When he
rose, his face had a very satisfied air.
*' Exactly," he said to himself. " Now if it is the same else-
where, we are all right."
He went back to the stone he had shown the corporal, made
a mark to indicate the direction of the presbytery, and returned
to the waggon. As they proceeded, he repeated the former
process of comparison at every suitable opportunity between
the road and the copse. The waggon was being dragged with
some difficulty through the crushed bushes when the corporal
rode up with his troopers and saluted.
" Well, corporal ? " said Gwynett.
"We have seen nothing, mon capitaine," replied the corporal,
with a long face—" that is, except the missing horse, which
we have here. There were no cross-roads, no houses, and no
trees. The rascals must have divided the load, and got away
quicker than we reckoned on."
As all this was precisely what Gwynett had expected, he
did not disturb himself about the corporal's bootless errand
"Put the horse with the rest of the team," he said, "and
keep the men behind. I shall want to consult you in a few
minutes."
The waggon was dragged through the copse close to its
former route, and at every available point Gwynett carefully
compared the old and the new ruts as they ran side by side
On passing the side of the pond, this examination was repeated
with still greater minuteness, much to the bewilderment of
the corporal. Gwynett took him to the point where the
waggon had apparently stopped in its former journey close
to the edge of the water.
"Look, corporal," said he, "at these
yard to the pond, and from the pond u .,
last track back again alongside the old one."
" I see them, mon capitaine."
1^' Do you notice any difference between them ? "
In what way does monsieur mean ? "
^Jn^^Il: ^o^,^^"st''^"ce do the ruts of the old track sink any
deeper than those of the new one ? "
tracks— one from the
to the wood, and our
hi ',
if:
i f
I : iJ
178
a Ikcnt Squire
M
ri ! ;
The corporal knelt down in several places, and came back
to Gwynett.
" I see no difference, mon capitaine."
" Nor do I. Doesn't that strike you as curious ? "
The corporal looked blank, and made no reply. Gwynett
ordered the waggon to be driven back to the farm-yard.
" Corporal," said he, as they brought up the rear, '* do those
cases weigh nothing at all ? "
" I don't understand, monsieur."
" If the waggon was full when it crossed the moor, and
empty when it came back, why should the ruts be everywhere
the same depth? Does the weight of the cases make no
difference in the load ? "
The corporal's mouth opened mechanically.
" But in that case, mon capitaine "
" Well ? "
"The cases have never left the yard."
Gwynett clapped the corporal on the shoulder with a laugh
I won't swear to that," said he. " But it seems to me you
have made a very good guess. I have noticed that you have
brilliant ideas, corporal."
The corporal swelled with gratified surprise.
"There is no doubt we have hit upon it," mon capitaine "
said he. " But, after all, where are the cases ? " '
" That is another affair," replied Gwynett.
"Then why did they take the waggon over the moor ? "
"You explained that before, corporal— to put us off the
scent."
"Of course— I forgot that. The rascals have put us to a
good deal of trouble with their tricks."
"Why do you say 'rascals'? Do you think there was a
party ? "
"Certainly, mon capitaine."
" One man can drive or lead a team of horses, I suppose ? "
No doubt, monsieur."
" What else has been done, so far ? "
"Monsieur is quite right. May I ask if monsieur supposed
so before ? ' ^^
"Something of the sort."
" When we found the waggon ? "
" No— when we found the horses."
" How was that, mon capitaine ? "
" Well, corporal, I said to myseh— just as you would have
done— these horses are well worth stealing, why have they
d came back
?"
ly. Gwynett
-yard.
r, " do those
; moor, and
! everywhere
ies make no
ith a laugh,
s to me you
lat you have
I capitaine,"
iioor ? "
us off the
put us to a
there was a
suppose ? "
IT supposed
I
1
vould have
have they
m mcnt Squire ,79
not been stolen? Because eight horses and (say) eight men
are nothing out of the way; but eight horses and one man
r .ke people look tw.ce.' And you would have argued-no
a.ubt you did argue-that if the horses were Ml, it was
hors'e 'already'" "^'^ °"'^ °"' '"'" '°"'^''"^^' ^"^ ^' ^ad a
" A horse already, mon capitaine ? "
!! Certainly. I noticed the shoe-marks all alonu."
But they did not come back ? "
"You are right again-no, they did not come back It is
wonderful how you grasp a thing, corporal."
The party were by this time in the yard. The curd did
not present himself, and Gilles reported that he haS gone
Gwynett went straight to the two planks which lay near the
nniVhl °"! ^T' 'T ^'■^^'"g ^et^een and over them
and they seemed to have lain undisturbed for weeks. GwvS
raised one carefully, and found underneath a tuft of grass7v"nL
freshly flattened. He gave a sigh of relief. ^ ^'"^
That is it," he said to himself.
He scrutinised the under side of each plank carefully. There
Iry yourself," he said, handing him the pole
The corporal sounded as Gwynett had done.
poked lltut'° "' ''^ *'' '''''" ^^ -'d breathlessly, as he
"Fetch the ladder, buckets, and the rooe " said Twvn^f.
The troopers scattered to execute this order ^"•
thi^ : "u^u-"°f ^^" y°"' corporal." proceeded Gwyn^ff "^o-
ouVelf%h:t%hTferrh thetlo^ r'^?'^^^'^
wall Of the well, laid the ^^l) t^eTov^^f^^^^^^^^^
t8o
I I
B HaMit Squtcc
\i
y I"
Mt'
.^1
lo the sack, and slid the cases one after the other into the
<"irt. All the rest was only to bamboozle us."
" Precise'), mon capitaine. In fact, I have had very much
I. he same idea all along- He knew we should catch him if he
ttit 1 to drive off with the cases themselves."
"• You are quite right, ( orporal. Now all we have to do
.s to draw as much water ouf of the well as is needful, haul
the cases np, and get on our way."
The corporal assented, thinking to himself that it was a
pleasure to serve unripr an officer so ready to appreciate
acuteness in a subordii te.
It is only necessary here to copy a letter from Gaultier
received by the curd the evening of the same day, and the
curd's reply.
" My dear Germont,
I am on my way to England, at the enclosed address. I
met M. de Torcy outside Arras, where he had been detained
a couple of days by severe cold, and he gave me despatches for
immediate delivery. Everything has gone splendidly.
A. G."
To which the curd replied,
" My dear Armand,
The other evening some troopers came here to put up
overnight. They pretended not to have set my shed on fire,
in order to burn their captain alive, and made a pond in the
stable-yard the next day by emptying the water out of the old
well. You will admit this sort of thing is annoying and even
dangerous. Unfortunately, I happened to be from home on
both occasions. Your friend,
Maxime Germont."
CHAPTER XXIV
AMBROSE GWYNETT SELECTS A LANDLORD
GwvNETT left his convoy at the hotel of the Ministry of War
in Paris, and went straight to Versailles to report the incidents
of his journey to M. de Torcy.
" It appears to me, my dear M. Gwynett," said -be marquis
after listening to the story, " that v,'e cai '■'ardly accept your
cure at Ste. Marie Geneste for the innocent babe he pretended
to be."
2r into the
very much
b him if he
lave to do
ledful, haul
t it was a
appreciate
n Gaultier
y, and the
address. I
en detained
spatches for
A. G."
to put up
led on fire,
Dond in the
t of the old
g and even
a home on
ERMONT."
ry of War
i incidents
marquis
:ept your
pretended
a "Rent Squire isi
"It is quite impossible to say, M. I- ..rrquis. His r<}/<! of
genial, blank igno. nee was quite be -n-: criticism, I assure
you.
"But the thief, or thieves, must have relied on having
access to the well ? " ^^
'• Nothing woul'i be easier than to get the cur^ out of the
way when necessaiy. It took us less than half an hour to
put things straight. Besides, even if he was in the plor to
steal the cases, I am still doubtful if he knew of the well
being used."
'' \Vhy, may I ask ? "
"Because he did not suggest our examining f'ic well in
the nrst instance.
The inarquis was silent for a minute while he considered
this prodigious diplomacy.
,*! J^^\ ^°"J^ h^ve t»e^^" almost too clever," he said finally.
1 think I should have been bamboozled by it" renlied
Gwynett candidly - Especially if he had not mentioned it
before we got to the pond or thereabouts."
" You are the best judge, my dear M. Gwynett. All the
same, I congratulate you on your success from ^rst to last
I doubt if any of M. Daguerre's staff would have got out of
the mess so well."
"I have rather the impression, M. le marquis, ti at none of
M. Daguerre's staff would have got into th2 mes. to begin
'• How so ? "
fKnl^K*''''"^ *^^'"° egotistical, monsieur, I cannot help feeling
that there was something distinctly personal in the attempt
o burn me up in that shed. I don't see the necessity for
It, unless there was some Httle animus to be gratified "
But have you enemies, then ? "
"None that I know of. But it is easy to annoy oeoole
without being aware of it." ^ (Jcopie
''Pardieul yes. However, all's well that ends well Let
us speak of another matter. I am much vexed to have; o say
that I cannot offer you the hospitality of my house in ^aris
We have had a violent outbreak'of measles tCe and I^ ave
Sfcroissrha.^.'w r' T ^'''?- ^^ ^'"^^'^ ^'^ ^^ ^^^
fn^pJ^f r'J'!l^i^V5!g^.^ ^'}'^^ P^^.-^l«"ce of this dis, ase
... .,..., ._!o,^u lici luwn nouse also. But I will set to
may pS."""""""^ '"''sed either in Paris or here, as jo^
Gwynett was aghast at the idea of being penned up in the
l82
H Ikent Squire
t $
H : ^
purgatory of etiquette, Jesuitism, and boredom into which
Versailles had sunk at this period.
"I thank you very much, monsieur," he replied hastily.
"But it would interest me to see a little of Paris, and I
should prefer finding some lodging there from which I could
explore the city while waiting news from you about Mr.
Dorrington. You have none so far, I presume ? "
" None, except of a negative sort. No one of that name
has been at Vincennes, the Bastille, either of the Chdtelets,
the Temple, the Conciergerie, For I'^veque, the Bicetre,
or the Abbaye. The same at Charenton— perhaps happily."
Charenton was the gaol to which prisoners were drafted
whose reason was affected. "We have heard also from
Tours and Blois, but as regards Mont St. Michel, Ste.
Marguerite, Pignerol, and half a dozen others, it will take
another fortnight for information to reach us. In the mean-
time, I have a little suggestion to offer."
" What is that, monsieur? "
" You will permit me to remark that as you are an English-
man, and not present here as an avowed adherent of M.
de St. George, the fact that we are unhappily still at war
with your country imposes some little embarrassment upon
me in introducing you into our society. I do not want
to be always explaining that you are neither an envoy nor
a spy ; nor, on the other hand, do I wish you to be under the
slightest restraint or disadvantage here or elsewhere."
" I can hardly imagine, monsieur, that an unknown stranger
like myself would attract any inconvenient notice. At the
same time, I am entirely in your hands. What would you
wish me to do ? "
" If not disagreeable to you, my dear M. Gwynett, I venture
to suggest that you pass under the name of the German
branch of your family as M. de Starhemberg— a course, I
understand, which has already been urged upon you by
your relative of that house."
Gwynett considered a moment, and then replied assentingly,
" I see no objection to that, M. le marquis. No one has
any right to grumble except my uncle, and he will not, I
am sure."
" Very good. That removes one or two trifling difficulties
incidental to my official position— for, unlike yourself, I have
plenty of enemies. And now I will give you a note to
M. d'Argenson, for you to use in case of any difficulty."
The marquis wrote a few lines of introduction, and handed
1
t
a Tkent Squire
183
into which
ied hastily.
aris, and I
lich I could
about Mr.
that name
i Chatelets,
he Bicetre,
)S happily."
ere drafted
also from
lichel, Ste.
it will take
the mean-
m English-
rent of M.
still at war
ment upon
not want
envoy nor
! under the
I)
vn stranger
3. At the
would you
:, I venture
e German
I course, I
>n you by
issentingly,
o one has
will not, I
difficulties
elf, I have
a note to
ty."
id handed
-I
them to Gwynett, who thereupon took his leave, promising
to acquaint M. de Torcy with his new address.
On his return to Paris, Gwynett renovated his wardrobe,
provided himself with a wig to conceal the partial loss of
his own hair at the presbytery, and set out to seek a lodging.
After some exploration he found an apartment to suit him
in a large, old-fashioned house at the corner of the Rue
des Poissoniers and the Rue d'Enfer. This, he was told,
belonged to a family of the name of Dubut, who occupied
the lower floor. The two floors above were unoccupied, and
the upper one was empty. The second floor was roomy,
light, and comfortably furnished, and had a stone staircase
descending to a park-like garden of twelve acres with a fish-
pond, which, even at the beginning of winter, was delightfully
picturesque.
The mistress of the house, with whom he negotiated the
hire of the apartment, was an old woman, the widow, as he
learnt, of a master turner in the Rue Beauregard. The rest of
the family appeared to consist of an invalid married daughter,
who was not visible, her only child, a boy just learning to
walk, and a bouncing, handsome girl of thirteen or fourteen,
whom Gwynett understood to be a niece of the invalid.
The terms asked for the accommodation were quite within
the margin Gwynett had proposed to himself. He accordingly
paid for a week in advance^, entered upon possession, and
made arrangements for such meals as he required. The
horse he had ridden from Calais was one of M. Daguerre's,
and had gone back with the escort. But he found a livery-
stable hard by his lodging, where a passable animal could be
hired when necessary, and this met his requirements for the
moment.
After making these various arrangements, he proceeded to
dine at a respectable little cabaret at the end of the Rue
Neuve St. Jean. The bench on which he sat, while waiting
for his meal to be served, was in a corner against a partition.
On the other side of this two persons were talking, apparently
over their wine, and snatches of the conversation reached
Gwynett's ear from time to time. His attention happened to
be caught by a name let fall by one of the speakers, and he
leaned his head against the wooden panel to listen.
» K !' i^ "°' ^\ business, my dear Marie," a man was saying,
uUt I have heard people say queer things about pere
Germont, and as long as he is popping in and out of your
shop in the Rue Beauregard "
f
1 1 '
184
H ment Squire
It !
i i
!:f
"What do they say of my uncle Germont?" interrupted a
woman's voice.
" The lamp-maker in the Rue d'Enfer goes to Ste. Marie
Geneste to buy colza now and then, and the people there tell
him the pfere makes strange things in his distillery. They talk
of curious coloured flames, and smoke such as one sees nowhere
else, coming from his chimneys."
" Bah ! " said the woman, " those yokels are always sus-
picious of what they don't understand. What has all that to
, do with your staying away from the Rue Beauregard ? "
" Everything, my fair enchantress," replied the man, in a
pompous tone. " My official position compels me to be a
model of discretion, and "
" It seems to me your official position means another woman "
was the angry retc rt.
"Your jealousy is too ridiculous to be complimentary"
observed the man, with patronising banter. "Now, on the
other hand, my poor dear wife "
"Stuff! You have treated her as shamefully as you treat
me. I say so, though I hate her."
"Not the least in the world, my houri. I have the mis-
fortune to be pleasing to various members of your charming
sex, and therefore I am a monster— that goes without saying
At the same time, I cannot be harsh, you understand."
Then came the sound of a violent blow on a table.
" I feel very much disposed to kill you," said the woman, in
furious tones. '
"So you have remarked more than once, my little dove.
bhall we have another bottle ? "
At this stage Gwynett's dinner was served, and the remainder
of the conversation, which had ceased to interest him, became
inaudible.
After despatching his meal and paying the bill, he rose
to leave the cabaret. As he approached the door, two persons
passed out in front of him, a man and a woman, whose voices
Identified them with the dialogue he had overheard.
He had time to notice that the woman was a southerner
of the shop-keeping class, young and handsome, with a
tree bearing and a bold, vivacious expression. The man
was perhaps five-and-forty years of age, fairly good-looking
got up as a dandy of the bourgeois type, and having an air
of self-conscious conceit which struck Gwynett as somewhat
amusing.
The pair strolled off in the direction of the Rue Beauregard.
u
'\\^
a "Rent Sduirc
185
terrupted a
Ste. Marie
le there tell
They talk
es nowhere
ilways sus-
all that to
1?"
man, in a
\e to be a
iT woman,"
limentary,"
)w, on the
i you treat
the mis-
■ charming
lut saying.
1."
woman, in
ttle dove.
remainder
n, became
I he rose
o persons
3se voices
>utherner,
:, with a
The man
i-looking,
ng an air
iomewhat
auregard.
>
Gwynett thought that inforjnation about pbre Germont might
be useful, and followed them at a distance in the hope of
acquiring it. Arrived at the Rue Beauregard, the man went
off down a side street, while the woman entered the doorway
of a little shop, which had behind it a dilapidated house of
some dimensions. Gwynett passed the shop, and observed
that it was a herbalist's, with the name of ' Latour ' appearing
over the door. He made a mental note of this, and strolled
back to the Rue des Poissoniers.
As he rang the bell to obtain admission, a man came up,
breathless with running, and stood waiting till the door opened.
Turning round, Gwynett found it was the companion of the
woman of the Rue Beauregard, but wearing a depressed expres-
sion, very different to his former one. The man took off his
hat with great politeness.
'* I beg monsieur's pardon," he said. " I believe monsieur
is our new /ocatai're."
" I have taken rooms here," replied Gwynett.
" My name is Sanson, at monsieur's service," said the
newcomer. " Madame Dubut is my mother-in-law."
Gwynett acknowledged his salute, and the door was opened
by the old woman.
" Well ? " she said hurriedly to the man.
" Both the doctors were out," he replied. '* I left word for
them to come. How is he ? "
" Worse," said the old woman, beginning to cry.
The man's face fell, and he ran down a passage.
"What is the matter, madame?" asked Gwynett.
" It is the child, monsieur," sobbed the old woman. " He
has a high fever, and if he has convulsions nothing will save
him. We have lost so many."
" Have you had a doctor ? "
'• We cannot get a doctor, monsieur. Mv son-in-law came
home ten mmutes ago, and at once ran off to find one. But
you see he has been unsuccessful."
" May I see the child, madame ? "
"Certainly, monsieur," replied the old woman, looking
rather surprised, " if monsieur will pardon us being a little
upset. My daughter is quite beside herself. If monsieur will
kmdly come this way "
^ Gwynett followed madame Dubut down a passage into a
lar^e room ai the back of the house, furnished' as a bedroom
and nursery. A little boy was lying in a carved wooden
cradle near the wmdow, and close to it was sitting a feeble-
I
i86
a Ikent Squire
r
looking, middle-aged woman, who was evidently the mother.
M. Sanson was bending over the cradle, and looked up as
Gwynett entered. ^
"Is monsieur by good chance a doctor?" he asked
anxiously.
"I do not call myself one," replied Gwynett. "But it is
possible ! can relieve your little boy. How long has he been
m this state ? "
befo?"'^ *^° ^°^^^' monsieur. But he was not quite well
The child's face was nearly purple, his eyes were closed in
a lethargy and his breathing was hurried and short. Every
tew seconds his arms and legs moved convulsively. Gwynett
placed his open hands on the skin round the fulness of the
boy s thigh and waited for a couple of minutes. His sensitive
palm, taught by experience, enabled him by this means to
recognise half a dozen degrees of fever.
As the room Avas comfortably warm, he removed the coverlet
and blankets of the cot, and proceeded to pass his two open
hands down the child's body from the shoulders to the feet.
This operation he repeated steadily for a quarter of an hour.
By that time the face of the sufferer had almost regained its
normal colour the breathing was easier, and the twitching
movements had ceased. The Sansons and madame Dubut
looked on breathlessly.
Gwynett sat down, and went on with his passes for some
ittle time Then he took the child's hands in his own, grasped
them gently but firmly, and held them for nearly half an hour.
At the end of this period the fever had practically disappeared,
the colour and pulse were normal, and the skin was perspiring
freely. The child slept calmly and profoundly. Gwynett
covered him up carefully, and rose from his chair.
I think he will do for the present," he said. " If you will
allow me, I will loojc in again after I have written some letters."
Monsieur," said the father, " I have no words to thank
you The boy is the apple of our eye. All the others are
dead, and we hoped this one was going to be stronger."
The mother, who had not hitherto spoken, stammered forth
some fervent expressions of gratitude.
"It is marvellous," said the old woman. "I cannot
understand it."
" I do not understand it myself, madame," replied Gwynett.
But It is an art I learned when I was quite young from a
very old friend of our family, then more than eighty years
H Ikent Squire
187
of age. I have myself been very fortunate in using it success-
fully. With some of my friends, who have tried the experi-
ment, it seems to be of no service at all — I do not know
why."
The reader must bear in mind that the old gentleman
alluded to, Mr. Valentine Greatraks (the author of " Certain
Wonderful Cures," and the friend of Robert Boyle), anticipated
by considerably over a century the discoveries of Mesmer,
de Puysdgur, Cahagnet, du Potet, and their followers. The
ignorance of himself and his pupil as to the nature of the
phenomena they produced is, ther'^fore, hardly a matter for
surprise.
After returning from the nursery to his own room, Gwynett
wrote an account of his recent proceedings to Muriel at Wray
Cottage, and enclosed the letter in one to M. de Torcy, asking
his good offices to have it sent across the Channel. He also
mentioned where he had taken up his quarters.
The letter reached the minister the next morning just as
he was receiving a visitor, who had been announced as
the lieutenant-general of police of Paris.
This was the famous Marc-Rend, comte d'Argenson, perhaps
the most skilful administrator of his time, who had certainly
done more than any man in Europe at this period to render
life and property secure within the area of his jurisdiction.
He was now a man of about sixty, of a severe exterior, but
the reverse of malignant in the execution of the duties of his
office, and still hale and vigorous to a remarkable degree.
He could boast the not very common distinction of having
the republic of Venice for his godfather, and had had his first
name bestowed upon him in that connection when his father
was ambassador to the City of the Sea.
The marquis handed Gwynett's letter to d'Argenson as he
entered.
** This is the gentleman," he said, " for whom we are making
inquiries about that missing Englishman. Is there anything
fresh in that matter ? "
" Not as yet," replied the lieutenant-general of police, taking
the letter. " He is not at Mont St. Michel, we hear."
He read the letter, and began to laugh.
"That is excellent," he said, and he quoted a passage
PnHina " mv lanHlorr? onr\«oro fo Ko /-ii.jf-o o Jo^v l.ill^.. "
" There you have the man exactly," he said, laughing again,
as he returned the letter to de Torcy.
" What is the matter ? " asked the marquis.
w
r
1
; 1
I
;:i 1
1 a
1
! .1'
] ', 1' ■
!^:J r. «i'
1 i
ii!^
188
a Iftent SQufre
.. 'I-^^"i, a"^"^ ^^^ ^^^^ a curious selection of a lodaJna »
rephed^d'Argenson. "Do you know what Ts this fe^^^^if
" Not in the least."
" Whl ' wV?"? ■"°">-»-'- °f Sanson...
titles^'" si? ^^^^k" de Longval, if you want all his dilapidated
afer-the°Vo;'i„"'affair''"''^ '''"™ """ ""^ -PPoinCed iL«
" What ! the ? »
LonJvaf orAbSf. "' »««»' f^^ly. Jou k„o„_de
Ytir Tv,. •^°?«^""^- The grandfather entertained Louis
fell f; ?n '■^' ^i^ ""' pensioned by Richelieu. sLnson Se
r^n Co ^"'"'"g- Wer father made his consent denend^nf
?e"ssion"'™' ^"""'"^ ■>'= "^^i^*^"' ""d adfplg^TpS.'
"Bless my soul'"
al.;ioThrrt\™rt:dS"tK^%\^.^''- ^T^-
sullSd'-C ^V'"/'' -e%ri™beflr':'\rr^^;,^
fh!!J , \ ^^^" ^^ married his step-mother's sister
^ehousraSd is''' "°' "^."'^ ^^°^^^' °^ cCseXught a
nne nouse and is now your friend's .landlord." ^
« T H° vfJ'^ ^^ ''^""^^ possibly know."
They^^rT^e'^^lTcVre^pLtlirp^rtiZ
there very little himself w^ Uo i J • ^ isanson lives
-e hin,Je;f ^^^^^t^^oo^eLiTin^KS:- "^ ""''''' '°
.iSf-„"'f^"'' shrugged his shoulders.
Still, I must tell M. de Starhemberg," he observed
to l^:;ilt'''' ^^P^'^^ ^'^^g--, adrsslnthimself
the^'oSleslSn'of^^''^^^ "?^ \' ^^P'-"^^' ^o-
Roi'_in other^wo ds he w^f Jk '"M"' ^^"'^^ '^"^^^s du
city of Paris * ' ""^^ '''^ P"^^'^ executioner of the
o«.=un V. who executed Louis XVI. and Mari; Antdne"tfe"' ""^^
J
H lkent Squire
X89
)f a lodging,"
his family of
CHAPTER XXV
is dilapidated
Jpointed just
pbre ? "
1 know — de
ained Louis
Sanson pbre
lose parents
t dependent
ng his pro-
3. Eventu-
son of his
he formally
:her's sister
■—bought a
ar marquis,
anson lives
I Gr^ve, to
ed.
ig himself
lined, bore
3euvres du
ner of the
generations
:e. It was
THE BREST LETTER
GwYNETT found no further occasion for the exercise of his
curative gifts upon M. Sanson's little son, as the latter was
practically convalescent the morning after his seizure. A
further acquaintance with the patient showed him to be an
exceedingly engaging and intelligent little fellow, with a
refinement of manner and appearance, even in his stage of
babyhood, rather difficult to reconcile with descent from either
of his parents. Gwynett had a considerable fondness for
children, usually repaid on their part by an enthusiasm which
was not without its inconveniences. But a special interest
excited by little Chariot — the name of the heir of the house
of Sanson — disposed him to take no particular notice of the
communication respecting his landlord's profession which he
duly received from M. de Torcy. He thus stayed on at his
lodgings for nearly a month, during which he explored the
ins and outs of Paris, and made use of various introductions
furnished him by the marquis. From time to time reports
concerning the inquiries after Randolph Dorrington, mainly
of a negative character, continued to be furnished him by
M. d'Argenson. Finally, the lieutenant-general of police
informed him that the channels of inquiry open to the
department were exhausted, and that no result was forth-
coming. Gwynett accordingly decided to return to England
forthwith.
On the evening before his intended departure, he availed
himself of one of M. de Torcy's introductions which circum-
stances had hitherto prevented him using. This was to the
Paris hotel of the countess of Melfort, the wife of the famous
(or infamous) James Drummond, earl of Melfort, for many
years the prime minister in exile, and dme damnee in general,
to the late king James II. The countess was a near relative
of M. de Torcy, and had been a playmate of his in childhood.
Since her marriage, at about seventeen years of age, she had
invariably paid him the compliment of expecting his assistance
to get her out of the continual scrapes into which she was
brought by her extravagance, her passion for card-playing,
and her genius for quarrelling with the Maintenon party at
Versailles. The marquis was alternately filled with vexation
i
if
'M
i
V
190
a •Rent Squire
at her imbroglios and with admiration at the way she coaxed
him into puttmg matters straight for her. ^ "^
Melfort"'to m"^ ^T^''^'^ ^X "^^^^^ed call at the hotel
Meifort to M. de Torcy. The marquis decided to follow
h.s example, and found the countess sitting with a lady who
was unknown to him, but whose extraordinary beaS?y and
dis inction made him wonder at his ignorance ^
greet Lm°"'"tU'f '^^^ M^'^o^t, as she came forward to
greet mm, this is my dearest friend the comtesse de
Valmcour, of the household of madame la dauphine "
Ihe comtesse and de Torcy exchanged salutations.
''td!u ^" ^^'J'^y' my dear Athenais," said the marquis
never h'ave^L'n'r^f f^"' "'^ ^'-^ ^°'"^^^-- ^^ " '^S
Tt an." ^ ^ opportunity of being a friend
"I have not been much morr than a month at Marlv "
explained the comtesse graciously. " I have only made this
one visit to Paris, and one to Versailles " ^
lady m"' "'' """'^^ ^'"'^ ^y ^^y °^ ^^^^°"^^'" P"t in
The marquis expressed a polite curiosity as to the detaiU
which the comtesse proceeded to furnish '
"I only regret that I did not learn the name of the
cCtdbg."'° ""'''' "^ '' ^''"'^''y" «^^ "e'arkeVin
•'That would not be difficult," said the marquis.
fhJ;l- f 'P"" ^^^^ ^°''' ^^'^•"^ '^'"^ opened. He noticed
?asL^tmTef :^^^^^^^^ ' ''''' ''''' ^^^^^ ^ --- %^t
" M de Starheniberg," announced the major-domo.
De lorcy introduced Gwynett to the ladies.
1 think we have met before, monsieur," said the comtesse
with a dazzling smile. "Athenais, this s the gentkman of
whom we were just speaking." gcnueman ot
The marquis chuckled inaudibly.
A "3?''.^?""^?'^" '^^'"^ ^° ^ave a knack of being always
^/^tf/w," he said to himself. 1^^"% aiways
"How extraordinary ! " cried lady Meifort, with enthusiasm
saidGwyner''"' '" '^' "° "' ^^^^^^ ^°- thlfSp,"
" I 'hank you, none," replied the comtesse. "It was mo<;^
fortunate that so little harm was done "
" Except to the poor horses," said Gwynett. " I have their
assassination much on my conscience. But it was impossiSe
she coaxed
the hotel
to follow
I lady who
eauty and
brward to
ntesse de
ne."
■ marquis,
on should
a friend
t Marly,"
nade this
!," put in
e details,
e of the
irked, in
: noticed
3US light
omtesse,
2man of
; always
usiasm.
lishap,"
IS most
ve their
)ossible
a "Rent Squire 191
to do anything else— a single instant's delay would have
almost certainly been fatal."
" Mon Dieu! yes," agreed lady Melfort. " With half one's
hair sticking in the door, one must excuse ceremony. But
monsieur may be fonder of horses than of anything else in the
world? Marquis, as these two are quite mix mieiix with
each other, I am going to trouble you with a little matter of
busmess. Your arm, if you please. Yvonne, you must
entertain M. de Starhemberg till we come back."
The marquis groaned in spirit as he accompanied his
relative to a little boudoir leading out of the salon. A
woman was in this room, evidently finishing the putting away
of numerous gallipots and phials of various sizes into an
innocent-looking bonnet box.
" I thought you were gone, Marie," said lady Melfort.
"I was afraid I had lost a phial, madame," replied the
woman, who was the herbalist of the Rue Beauregard. " But
they are all here. I wish madame a good evening," and she
left the room by a second door.
" The worthy lady seems rather at home here," observed
the marquis.
" That is Latour — a pearl of great price, my cousin. Don't
you know she sells the finest cosmetics out of Italy— or in it
for that matter ? " '
" I deplore my ignorance of the fact. It arises, probably,
from my having rather neglected my complexion. But what
is our little business, my dear Athenais ? "
" Money, dear cousin, this time."
•' That surprises me, of course. Let me hear the
worst."
" There is no worst."
" That surprises me still more."
" On the contrary, I have a magnificent idea, my cousin."
" At whose expense, my dear Athenais ? "
" Not yours, certainly."
^''You take the rope off my neck. Tell me all about
The countess seated herself on a ,ofa, and motioned
de Torcy to a \g^ fauteuil with its back to the door by which
madame Latour had gone out. The marquis sank into it
with a resigned air.
"You must know, my cousin, that of late I have been
miraculously unlucky at cards."
" I never knew you to be anything else, my dear Athenais.
\ -^
I 1
M !■:
193
You
you."
"I
are
a Iftent Squive
too virtuous. I should cheat a little, if I were
have tried that, my cousin. But it is too faticuine.
Anyhow, I am bankrupt, and M. de Melfort simply laughs
at me. °
" I am glad he is still in the amused stage. But we have
not yet heard about your magnificent idea."
tvt"i/ ^"l coming to that. Of course, you know that lord
Melfort had an immense correspondence with our friends
in England before lord Middleton succeeded to his official
duties."
Melfort, it may be mentioned, had proved himself so
ingeniously and inveterately injudicious as an adviser to the
late ex-king James II., that Louis XIV. had finally insisted
upon his being replaced by the earl of Middleton.
" Naturally," said the marquis.
'[ Equally, you of course know that the duke of Marlborough
IS in the worst possible odour with the English ministry,
and that they are seeking high and low for means to ruin
him utterly."
"One hears that sort of thing, of course."
"Well, all this brought to my recollection something that
happened ages since— when I was first married."
" Let us see — when was that ? "
" Seventeen years ago," replied the countess, with a
sigh.
" And you are now ? "
" Silence, monster ! My age is twenty-five, and I reckon
twenty-four months in the year. Bu > happened, just after
my marriage, that a note was brought to lord MeJfort at
bt. Germain by a messenger from colonel Sackville in
Loridon, which my husband thought very important. It
enclosed a letter from the earl of Marlborough— of course, he
was called lord Churchill in Sackville's note *— to king James,
warning him that the expedition fitting out at Portsmouth
under admiral Russell and general Talmash was to sail to
attack Brest."
" I was not in office then," observed the marquis, who had
succeeded his father (the marquis de Croissy) as foreign
secretary in 1696. " But I recollect the circumstance."
It occurred to me that a letter from the duke, betraying
an English fleet for the benefit of the king of Franre. wnniH
h.l!^rK''^"^M,T°[i?fi- *K ^^'■''^°"' °* Marlborough conferred upon
baron Churchill by WiHiara III. fpr h/5 desertion of king James in 1688.
H ficnt Squire
ipr
I, if I were
)o fatiguing,
mply laughs
But we have
w that lord
our friends
' his official
himself so
viser to the
ally insisted
larlborough
ih ministry,
ans to ruin
ething that
5s, with a
i I reckon
1, just after
Melfort at
ickville in
ortant. It
course, he
:ing James,
i'ortsmouth
to sail to
s, who had
as foreign
ance."
, betraying
ncGi would
ferred upon
es in 1688.
be rather useful to his enemies just now — evx .lore usefui
than the charges of corruption in connection with the army
contracts, which are talked about."
"Very likely," said the marquis. "Rut were you in lord
Melfort's official confidence, may I ask?"
"I happened to see that particular letter," replied the
countess.
"Well, what about it?"
" I am going to sell it to lord Oxford."
"I^ardieu/"
" Why not ? We are old friends, and he and my husband
are on the best of terms. I an. sure he would pay me more
for them than a stranger."
" I don't see that that follows. Apart from your optimism,
however, it occurs to me lord Melfort may object to giving you
the letter — even if it is still extant."
" My cousin, it is in my pocket."
" Then, my dear Athenais, I distinctly decline to hear how
you obtained it. I must draw the line somewhere."
" Pooh ! you need not put on airs. What ought I to ask
for the letter ? Is it worth twenty thousand livres ? "
" Really, Athenais, your indiscretion amazes me."
" Very well. I shall ask twenty thousand livres. The next
thing is to find a reliable messenger — one does not like to trust
this sort of affair to the ordinary channels."
The rnarquis, despite his apparent nonchalance, had been
considenng this affair very seriously. It was not to the interest
of France that Marlborough should be driven to extremity,
so Jong as he adhered to the agreement made with de Torcy
at Eekeren. The duke had served and betrayed so many
masters that it was even yet possible he might be found on
the side of France against the emperor. But he would be
furious if he were attacked in parliament with a weapon which
he would know must have come from a member of de Torcy's
family. The first question was obviously as to the exact
importance of the letter itself.
"If you really want my advice," he said finally, "I
better see this letter. It may be of less use than
imagine."
Lady Melfort produced a packet from her pocket.
" This is it," she said. " First of all, you see, there
had
you
translation by my husband of colonel Sackville's
cypher, which enclosed lord Churchill's letter."
The translation of the note ran as follows :
is a
note in
X3
ii
194 a U^ent Squtrc
"4/A May, 1694.
I have just now received the enclosed for the king.* It is
from lord Churchill, but no person except the queen t and you
must know from whom it comes. Therefore, for the love of
God, let it be kept a secret."
" The words you see interlined—' even from lord Middhton,' "
said the countess, " are a memorandum of my husband's."
The marquis read on :
"I send it by an express, judging it to be of the utmost
consequence for the service of the king, | my master ; and con-
sequently for the service of his most Christian Majesty. § You
see, by the contents of this letter, that I am not deceived in
the judgment I formed of admiral Russell ; for that man has
not acted sincerely, and I fear he will never act otherwise."
" Here is the letter," said the countess, handing him another.
You see it is in the duke's writing, endorsed by my husband,
* Lord Churchill's letter to the king of England ' ||."
This is the famous " Brest letter," as the reader may find
It copied in the Stuart Papers.^
"It is only to-day I have learned the news I now write to
you ; which is, that the bomb-ketches and the twelve regiments
encamped at Portsmouth, with the two regiments of marines
all commanded by Talmash, are destined for burning the
harbour of Brest, and destroying all the men-of-war which are
there. This will be a great advantage to England. But no
consideration can prevent, or ever shall prevent me from
informing you of all that I believe to be for your service
Therefore you may make your own use of this intelligence
which you may depend upon being exactly true. But 1 must
conjure you, for your own interest, to let no one know it but
the queen and the bearer of this letter.
Russell sails to-morrow, with forty ships, the rest being not
yet paid ; but it is said, that in ten days, the rest of the fleet
will follow; and, at the same time, the land forces. I have
endeavoured to learn this some time ago from admiral Russell.
But he always denied it to me, though I am very sure that he
knew of the design for more than six weeks. This gives me a
bad sign of this man's intentions. I shall be very well pleased
to learn that this letter comes safe to your hands."
The marquis laid down the letter with a disgusted air
"Good Lord!" he said, "if Melfort had only sent this
* James II., at St. Germain. f Maria Beatrice, queen of James II.
t James II. § Louis XIV. || James 11.
t Vol. I., pp. 486-7.
J
May, 1694.
ing.* It is
1 1 and you
the love of
'iddUton^ "
nd's."
the utmost
; and con-
sty. § You
leceived in
it man has
rwise."
11 another,
husband,
may find
V write to
regiments
f marines,
irning the
which are
But no
me, from
ir service.
telligence,
ut i must
low it but
being not
f the fleet
>. I have
U Russell,
re that he
[ives me a
11 pleased
ir.
sent this
imes II,
I
W
a IKcnt Sdutrc 195
over at once to William III., Marlborough would have been
hung or beheaded nnd we should have escaped Blenheim,
Ramillies, Malpla^jK^i, and the loss of men and treasure beyond
calculation. It is lamentable to think of."
"All the same, I would rather have my twenty thousand
Iivres, observed the countess, who did not pretend to be
a politician.
'I he marquis looked at the letter again.
"VVell," he said to himself, "since the letter is here, let us
consider what can be done with it. It might be enormously
useful—at the proper time. It is sheer waste to allow my
dear cousm to handle it in such a trumpery fashion. We
must manage matters better than that."
He handed the letter back to lady Melfort, who asked,
What do you thmk of it, my cousin ? Am I not right ?"
"Perfectly, my dear Athenais, and I am quite at your
service. You want a trusty messenger ? "
" That is it."
" Your guest in the next room goes to England to-morrow.
You could not find a better person."
" I will ask him at once."
" Heavens and earth ! my dear Athenais, do you want to
rum me, chattering about an affair like this under my very
riose ?— I, a secretary of state ! And with madame de Valincour
for'once''"^° '''^'^^^ *° *^^ dauphine. Do be reasonable,
II By all means if you will tell me how to be reasonable."
Certainly. Have you written to lord Oxford ? "
' I have a letter ready."
"Very good. Let me have it, duly sealed and addre 3rd
with your enclosures inside, and I will speak to our yc un-
friend about It m private." ^ *=
The countess went to an escritoire, and enclosed the two
letters we have quoted in one to the earl of Oxford. After
b^ug?^' if .'iTC^^'^' " *<= "■■"'■^'" ■■" London, she
in hii'^pocke^: '^ '"" ''''"' *' "-I"''. -'" his hands
"Yes."
" Do you expect me to take that ? "
"Why not?"
" My dear Athenais, it is delightful to be young. But there
IS no use m being childish."
" What on earth is the matter now ? "
196
H ment Squire
!'!■
|t .U
The matter is, that I refuse to know anything about
a etter to lord Oxford. I am quite wiHing to know about
a letter addressed to our gallant horse-knacker, which may
contam anythmg or nothing, for all I can tell "
ettilh?^ ^°"^^ ^°" "°* '""^ ^° before?" retorted the countess
"I am surprised to have to say so now," replied the
marquis. ^
.^^^^ A^^^t^.^^''^''^^^ ^^^ P^^'^^t '■" another cover,
u^^xrn ^u ° ^- ^^ Starhemberg, and handed it to de Torcy
Will that do ? " she asked.
"Admirably " replied the marquis, putting it in his pocket
with one hand, while he raised the other to his shoulder.
And now, my dear Athenais, if you have no further com-
mands for me, we will go back to the salon. This boudoir of
yours has all the winds of heaven blowing about it. I shall
have a stiff neck for a week."
'lu ^^f ^t^^oo"" behind you is a little ajar," said the countess,
as they left the room. " I am very sorry."
The marquis stopped and looked at 'the door with a sus-
picious air.
''Decidedly you have a genius for conspiracy, my dear
Athenais. But it is a little too late to shut the door now "
h.ii H Tfu"^".!' ^*^"°'''^'^ '^^y ^^^^^'■t into the salon, the
hall door of the hotel opened and closed, and madame Utour
appeared on the steps leading to the street. A gentleman was
^T"? T "" '!°PP^^ ^' ^^ ^''^"g^t s'ght of her face in the
^u Vf ?^ g'^^^ ^^"^^'■" ^h'ch hung in the portico.
^^ M. Gaultier ! " she ejaculated. " The very person."
No doubt, my dear Marie," said the abb^. " But why ? »
Ihe woman lowered her tone, and spoke close to the abbd's
" Very much indeed, my dear Marie. May I pay mv
respects to the countess of Melfort first, and take my sister
home ? You have been seeing her, I suppose ? "
\ es. But don't go in just yet. Come this way."
The woman led him to a dark porch on the other side of the
street pomted to the door of the hotel Melfort, and conversed
with him in a low tone for several minutes. ""versea
-. •"■;"■' f^"-^iDlc, aaiu -^auluer nnaiiy. " But when we
have got the letter, why not sell it to the duke himself?"
He is too stingy," replied madame Latour.
H
m
In
a ment Squire
197
ng about
ow about
lich may
countess
)lied the
r cover,
Torcy.
is pocket
shoulder,
ler com-
oudoir of
I shall
:ountess,
h a sus-
tny dear
ow."
lion, the
e Latour
man was
e in the
why ? "
e abba's
with me,
pay my
ly sister
e of the
nversed
hen we
m
tt'
'There is something in that. What is the name of the
messenger ? "
" I did not catch it— if it was mentioned."
" Can you not find out ? "
** You had better do that yourself, when you go in."
The door of the hotel Melfort opened, and Gwynett stood
upon the threshold.
" Look ! " said Marie, as his face came into the light of the
lantern. " That is the messenger."
Gaultier turned livid.
" Damnation ! " he growled, under his breath.
CHAPTER XXVI
A LETTRE DE CACHET
As Gwynett was taking his leave of the countess of Melfort
and madame de Valincour, the marquis asked him to call at
the hotel of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs before setting out
on his journey the next day.
"I may venture to trouble you with a small commission,"
ne said, that is, jf you have not had enough of doing
little services for your acquaintances."
" I am quite at your disposal, M. le marquis. And I bee
to tender you in advance the thanks of my friends in England
tor the trouble you have taken on their behalf "
f 1" '^cf ^; "°^h*"g; I am sorry we have been so unsuccess-
tul. Should anything transpire later, I will not fail to let
you know.
The next morning Gwynett called at the Ministry, received
the packet addressed to him by the countess, and expressed
his willingness to deliver the enclosure on his arrival in
li^ngland. He gave the marquis the address of Will's Coffee-
house in Russell Street, Covent Garden, as the place to which
for the present It would be best to forward communications,
and then set off on his journey to England.
M. de Torcy called upon lady Melfort in the course of a
day or two to assure her of the despatch of her packet.
friend is enchanting," said the countess. " Why
did you not send h.m to us before? As it was, Yvonne had
him all to herself the other night."
198
a Tkent Squire
i
}• :■
n
»ii
"That is an extraordinarily fine woman," observed the
marquis.
•' Oh ! I suppose so. She is decidedly eprise with vour
M. de Starhemberg."
" What did she say ? "
" Nothing."
significant for a woman to say nothing,
affair, I have been admiring your excellent
remarkable that you should recollect the
conveniently. Seventeen years is a long
^ " CerteSy it is
A propos of this
memory. It is
duke's letter so
time."
" There was a
mind,
fellow-
little circumstance that impressed it on my
The messenger who brought it was such a handsome
" That quite accounts for it."
" I did not mean that. But my husband took it into his
head that this M. Collins, as he called himself— Richard
Colhns, if I recollect right— had tampered with the seal and
read the despatch from lord Marlborough. It was not the
sort of thing to be allowed to become known, so they at once
got a lettre de cachet and put M. Collins in the Bastille."
" But no one would be employed as a messenger who was
not perfectly reliable. The note said as much."
"You see, they were thinking of the regular messenger,
captain Floyd."
** How was that ? "
" The despatch had been carried to Dover in the usual way
by captain Floyd, and he was taken dangerously ill when
just on the point of starting across the Channel. Knowing
the extreme urgency of the affiiir, he handed the letter to a
friend— this M. Collins— who was with him, and who wa"
quite willing to help him out of the difficulty. Unfortunately
It turned out that M. Collins was a close friend of general
Talmash. Hence the lettre de cachet:'
" There has been a most reckless misuse of these lettres de
cachet" said the marquis discontentedly. "Melfort could
have had the man knocked on the head in some quiet place
for a couple of louis, and the matter would have been settled.
It is shameful to put us to the expense of maintaining
prisoners for nothing. Was the duke told of the affair?"
" Yes. I recollect he wrote thanking us. But as a matter
of fact, although my husband was rieht in sunnosin" that
the despatch had been opened, it was not M.'coiliiS who
opened it."
t d
m
a Ikent Squire
199
:rved the
vith your
nothing,
excellent
illect the
5 a long
t on my
andsome
into his
-Richard
seal and
not the
i at once
who was
issenger,
3ual way
ill when
knowing
ter to a
ifho was
;unately,
general
ittres de
t could
St place
settled,
ntaining
air?"
i matter
nrr 4>K A«i
ins who
\i
*' How do you k ow ? "
" Because I ope; ed it myself."
The marquis stared at the speaker.
" It happened this way, my cousin," explained the countess.
"At the time of my marriage, extraordinary as you may think
it, I was desperately jealous of some girl over in England who
used to correspond with my husband."
** You surprise me," said the marquis.
"It is quite true. Of course, lord Melfort said she was
only a Jacobite agent. I had seen several covers addressed
by her, and this one sent by colonel Sackville seemed to be
in the same handwriting. I managed to make a fac-simile
seal, and opened the letter. Naturally, there was nothing in
it to interest me at the time, so I re-sealed it and put it back
with the rest of lord Melfort's correspondence. I daresay my
seal was rather clumsy, and they found it out."
" So Collins was imprisoned for youi little tricks ? "
" I suppose so."
" When was he released ? "
" I never heard any more about him."
" Good Lord ! then he may be in the Bastille still?"
" Now you mention it, it is very likely — unless, of course,
he is dead."
"It is perfectly monstrous," cried the marquis angrily.
" Do you think we have gold-mines at Versailles, that we
are to provide people with board and lodging for seventeen
years without the slightest occasion ? Every prisoner costs us
five livres a day, at least. Was he a gentleman ? "
" Decidedly — a man of good position, I should say."
" Heavens and earth ! that would be fifteen livres. Saint
Mars would toke care of that, and so would de Bernaville.
This is the way we are made bankrupt."
It may be mentioned that the scale of maintenance allowed
to the governor of the Bastille for each prisoner was fifcy
livres a day for a prince of the blood, thirty-six for a mardchal,
twenty-four for a lieutenant-general, fifteen for a person of
quality or member of a parliament, ten for a judge, priest,
or person in the finance, five for a decent bourgeois, and
fifty sols for servants arrested or in attendance upon their
masters.
" Really," said the countess, " I am very sorry. But this is
the first time I liavft rerollfictpd it "
" Why on earth did you not put the matter right when you
first knew of it ? "
!■ /
u
I' ■ t ' •■
tt
200
a tkcnt Squire
"Well, in the first place, I did not want to make myself
ridiculous, and in the second, M. de Melfort would have
again, I thought it might be useful to
scolded me. Then
leave things alone."
" How, may I ask ? "
"Evidently lord Marlborough was concerned at the pos-
sibility of this M. Collins knowing the contents of the
letter."
" Well ? "
"Don't you think it might be convenient to us, some
time or other, for lord Marlborough to be afraid of somebody
even in mistake?"
" Is my cousin beginning to display gleams of intelligence ? "
thought the marquis, with wonder. Then he said aloud,
" Unfortunately, my dear Athenai's, you made M. de Marl-
borough perfectly comfortable when you allowed your M. Collins
to be put in the Bastille."
" He could have been let out when it was wanted to do the
duke a mischief," said the countess.
"But you have just explained that M. Collins was ignorant
of the contents of the letter."
" Lord Marlborough did not know that, you see," said the
countess, with a wise air.
The marquis looked at his relative, with his head on one
side and his eyes half closed.
"Is this cleverness," he said to himself, "or is it merely
a new phase of stupidity ? "
"And then," went on the countess, "it would have been
quite easy at any time to explain to M. Collins the exact
reason of his imprisonment."
" Really, my cousin cannot be altogether a fool," thought
the marquis. " Well, my dear Athenais, if you had mentioned
all these fine ideas to me years ago, it might have been of
some use.
" You see, I forgot all about it,
M. Collins is in the Bastille still."
"It just occurs to me that d'Argenson has reported there is
no Englishman in the Bastille or any of our prisons. So he
IS probably dead long since."
"That is a pity. He was a magnificent fellow, with a
charming name— if I could remember it."
" I don't understand."
" His passport was in the name of Richard Collins, but
that was not his real name."
You had better find out if
I
a Ikent Squire
20 1
ake myself
ould have
useful to
t the pos-
ts of the
us, some
somebody,
ligence ? "
oud,
de Marl-
M. Collins
to do the
s ignorant
' said the
d on one
it merely
ave been
;he exact
thought
lentioned
been of
nd out if
1 there is
. So he
with a
lins, but
" Why do you think so ? "
"We had a little conversation together, and he told me.
It has quite escaped my recollection."
"It would not make any difference," said the marquis.
" He would be entered under the name in his passport. It
might be worth while rummaging de Bernaville's registers
to see what became of him."
" I wish you would," said the countess. " Oh ! is it not
wonderful ? "
"What?"
" I have never thought of his name for seventeen years,
and now it has come into my mind."
"Well, what is it?"
" Randolph Dorrington."
The marquis bounded from his chair.
"What on earth is the matter, my cousin?" asked the
startled countess.
" We have been hunting for Randolph Dorrington over all
France," said the marquis. " M. de Starhemberg came here
expressly to make inquiries about him, and now he will be
out of the country. You will excuse me, my dear Athenais —
I must see to this without delay."
" Do," said the countess. " It will be so funny if M. Collins
is still alive somewhere or other. Only don't tell him I was
the culprit — he might be annoyed with me."
"That is possible," said the marqius, as he went
to his carriage.
" To the Bastille," he said to the coachman.
It was already dark when the carriage turned the
of the Rue St. Antoine, and drove up to the wicket of the
outlymg group of buildings by which the house of the
governor of the Bastille was approached. The eight towers
of the vast and gloomy fortress, and the curtain-walls which
connected them, rose in a black mass against a stormy sky.
Over this the clouds were hurried by a blustering gale from
the north-west, while the light of the moon broke fitfully
through the masses of flying scud.
Our friend Gwynett will have an uncomfortable passage,"
thought the marquis, as the footman knocked at the first
gateway.
"Who goes there ? "challenged the guard.
"The marquis de Torcy, on the king's service," replied
the footman. ^
The guard opened the gate and admitted the carriage.
down
angle
202
a fkcnt Squire
■k* . .
«fe:i
1, /
:, I
1
1
^J
HH ;!'
g ■ •■
|H; ^
i
H
f.l
il
m
the
" Pass, on the king's service," said he, as he locked
gate behind them.
The carriage passed under the armoury, which was built
over the outer gateway, and emerged into the first, or passage
On the left of this court were a row of sheds and sutlers'
shops, built agamst the great wall which surrounded the
enclosure of the Bastille. On the right were the stables
and quarters of the guard. In front was the farther wall
of the court, with its great gateway and the first drawbridge
not yet raised for the night. '
At this gateway the same challenge was made, and the
same reply given. The lieutenant of the guard came forward
to inspect the occupant of the carriage.
"I do not know monsieur by sight," he said courteously,
but I will send word to M. le gouverneur. He is on the
terrace.
"As soon as you can," replied the marquis, shivering, as
he put up the window of the carriage a^^ain.
In a couple of minutes the officer "received an answer to
his message, came forward again, and the second gate was
opened. ^
^u "^i'?."' T ^^"^ '''"C' service," he said to the coachman.
1 he latter drove over the drawbridge into the second court
1 his was cMled the Cour du Gouvernement, from having
on Its right, the house of the governor. Beyond this house'
on the same side, was a passage and gate leading to the garden
of the Arsenal adjacent. Opposite the drawbridge was the
terrace, stretching across the court, and approached by two
flights of stone steps. It was planted with shrubs, and had a
little arched pavilion or summer-house on the left. Facing
the governor's house were the gateway and passage leading to
the second drawbridge and the chateau itself
The governor was trying the effect of some new lamps on
the terrace, and came down the steps into the court as
de lorcys carriage stopped before the portico.
"Good evening, M. le marquis," said he, as he assisted the
minister to alight. "This is an unexpected honour. It is
quite a chance I had not already gone out."
"A sudden whim, my dear M. de Bernaville," replied the
marquis, as they went indoors. " I have promised to make
uu mquiry for my relative the countess of Melfort, and I
^"»"t"u' Seailowcu any peace till I have satisfied her curiosity."
I shall be delighted to do anything to oblige r^iadame de
a Ikent Squire
203
locked the
was built
or passage
nd sutlers'
unded the
he stables
irther wall
rawbridge,
, and the
\e forward
)urteously,
is on the
ivering, as
answer to
gate was
:oachman.
court.
n having,
lis house,
he garden
was the
d by two
nd had a
Facing
eading to
lamps on
court as
sisted the
ir. It is
plied the
to make
rt, and I
uriosity."
dame de
Mellbrt," said the governor. " What do you wish to know,
M. le marquis ? "
" Do you recollect anything of an Englishman named Collins
being here any time during your term of office ? "
"Collins? ColHns? We have a man here named Collin,"
replied de Bernaville, giving the name its French pronunciation.
" I did not know he was English. No one could tell it from
his accent."
"Perhaps that accounts for d'Argenson's report."
" What report ? "
" That there was no Englishman in the Bastille."
" Very likely. We can ask him, if you like. He is the
fourth jBazini^re."
" I should rather like to see him. But have you his /eUre
de cachet ? "
"I suppos- it will be in the archive-room. He has been
here a long time, I fancy— before M. de Saint Mars, even."
M. de Bernaville had succeeded M. de Saint Mars on
the death of the latter in 1708, after a governorship of ten
years.
" Can we look at it ? " asked the marquis. " I am aware it
is rather late."
" Certainly. We will go at once, if you like, before they
raise the drawbridge."
" I shall be very much obliged to you."
The governor put on his hat and cloak, and led the marquis
across the court. The drawbridge over the ditch, at the end
of the short, covered way leading out of the court on the left,
was just on the point of being raised for the night. The
guard presented arms, and waited for the two gentlemen to
pass over.
The marquis looked up as they crossed the bridge. On
the other side stood the gateway and double doors of the
Bastille, plunged in profound shadow, and making a vast
cavern m the wall connecting the two terminal towers of the
Bazmi^re on the left and the Comt^ on the right. From one
or two of the window-gratings, separated by the whole thickness
of the walls from the rooms inside the towers, a faint gleam
strayed out into the inky darkness of the night. The storm
was increasing, and the marquis drew his cloak around him
more closely.
r,..v.:. :,,■= r/i^rvci, in response to tiie suuimons of M. de
Bernaville, was opened, the governor and his visitor passed
under the front offices of the chateau into the. Grande Cour.
1
'i
111
; 'i
204
a ikent Squire
rhis court was the principal precinct of the chateau. On
ts right were the three towers of the Comte, the Tresor. and
theChapelle; on the left the Bazini^re, the iiertaudibre and
the curiously named Liberty-all connected by enormous
curtain-walls with a fortified terrace on the top. The fourth
side of the Grande Cour, opposite the entrance, was fo?med
by a two-storey building which connected the third tower on
each side, the^ Liberty and the Chapelle. This struc[u?e
contained on the lower floor various offices and guard-rooms'
and on the upper the council-chamber and the library (of
some five hundred volumes) for the use of the prisoners
Beyond this building was the Cour du Puits, so called from
us cesspool of a well, with the two towers of the Puits and th^
Coin at Its farther corners.
nJthl ^jg^l.to^e^'S were arranged somewhat after the plan
lit ,^°"^^;i°"'- °^ dominoes, only having the cross-bar
paSlogTam ''' '^°'' "^^''' °' ^^'^^ ^" ''' ^'^'^^ -' the
Each tower consisted of a cac/iof (cellar or dungeon) four
stories above, a fifth (called the ca/oUe) under the^roSf and
a fortified terrace on The top of all. Each storey cou ained
a single irregular-sided roomfwith the addition TnLme cases
of a small closet tak.n froir. the thickness of the wall. The
Chateau could thus accommodate, irrespective of the cac/iofs
we ^ krwTnoT'h ''""^ a separate'room. The inmates
were known, not by name, but by their towers and the
number of their floors therein.
As the governor and the marquis entered the Grande Cour
hey were met by the lieutenant du roi. This functionary was
tseif, hying in It and being responsible for the discipline of
fhl nhs/ ^" 1^ governor, as has been said, lived outside
the chateau, and was charged with the due entry and discharge
of prisoners, their maintenance, and their health. ^
M. de Launey,"* said the governor, " M. le marquis de
Torcy desires to examine the /effre de cachet of the fourth •
Bazinifere, and afterwards to have an interview with him »
1 he lieutenant du roi bowed.
"With pleasure, M. le marquis," he said. "But it may
T^:! I*"A^.- ^^ ¥""^y succeeded de BernaviUe as governor in ,„8
.xx= "I-iaicu son, Dorn m tlie chateau in 1740, was the last governor of
I
ml
fS
'A
• '4
B Ikeiit Squire
ao5
ateau. On
Tresor, and
udifere, and
enormous
The fourth
ivas formed
i tower on
structure
iard-rooms»
library (of
ners.
ailed from
its and the
: the plan
i cross-bar
itre of the
jeon), four
roof, and
contained
)me cases,
/all. The
le cachots,
t inmates
and the
ide Cour,
Dnary was
a Bastille
cipline of
mitted to
d outside
discharge
arquis de
le fourth
m."
It it may
r in i'7i8.
overnor of
ier of the
take some little time to find the order. I will fetch my keys,
if you will pardon my keeping you waiting a moment,"
" How is business with you, my dear governor ? " asked
the marquis, as the lieutenant went back to his quarters.
•'Very good," replied de Bernaville cheerfully, rubbing his
hands. *' We have forty-one, and all except three on a good
scale. Your M. Couins is one of the three — he is only a
ten livre man."
" How do you manage with the odd man ? "
"Well, as a matter of fact, I am sending one to Vincennes
to-morrow, by an order from M. le comte de Pontchartrain.
You see, I have thirty-eight prisoners at fifteen livres and
upwards, and three at ten livres. I cannot put any of these,
you understand, two in a room. So I am getting rid of a ten
livre man to allow a room each for the other forty."
Th I lieutenant du roi returned with his keys, took a lantern
from the guard, and opened the door of the archive-room.
This was part of a building at the foot of the curtain-wall
which connected the Baziniere with the Bertaudiere, the other
and more distant portion being the chapel. By good luck,
the docurnent imprisoning Collins was found without difficulty.
It spelt his name, by mistake, as Collin, made no mention of
his offence or his nationality, was dated May 8th, 1694,
and put him on the ten livre scale. It was countersigned by
the secretary of state Letellier, son of the marquis de Louvois,
both of whom had been dead several years.
" I will see this prisoner for a few minutes, M. le lieutenant,"
said the marquis, " but in strict incognito. Has he a light?"
"No doubt, M. le marquis," said the lieutenant du roi.
" He spends most of his time reading. The turnkey can let
you have more candles, if you like."
" A couple will do no harm," said the marquis.
" You will do me the honour to sup with me, M. le marquis,
before you leave ? " asked de Bernaville.
" I always yield to temptation, my dear governor. Every-
one says your cook is worthy of the Palais-Royal~in fact, I
wonder M. d'Orleans does not steal him from you."
" You flatter me," said the delighted governor. " But to-
night you must take pot-luck— you should have given me an
hour's notice. Here, Leblanc ! conduct monsieur to the fourth
Baziniere— incognito, recollect. Au revoir, my dear marquis."
" 1 shall not be long," nodded the marquis, as he followed
the turnkey. The governor went back to his house, and
the lieutenant du roi to his quarters.
206
B fkcnt SquU'c
m
In each tower the various floors were reached by a sniral
stone staircase, built in the thickness of the walls. whi?h
diminished from over forty feet thick at the basement to abiut
ten at he ca/oUes. The irregular polygonal rooms were
practically of the same size throughout. On each flo^ a
little passage ran through the solid masonry from the staircase
to the thick double doors of the prisoner's room The
arXvTroom ^'''"^^'' """'''^ ^^""^ '^' ^"^^^^ °^ ' ^e
f^.wllf Torcy and the turnkey reached the landing of the
fourth floor, the former stopped and said to hir, companion
r.J r^""' ^°r ""^J. Leblanc-if that is yo.r narAe-thit I
remember your face."
" Possibly, M. le marquis," replied the turnkey respectfully
You have seen me before." f^y^^-iuny.
"When was that?"
"M. le marquis I had the honour of showing you up
these stairs, into the first flour, exactly thirteen years Lo If
monsieur will recollect, it was the evening of the arrival of
a wWspe?' " ""'—" '"' '^' *"^"^^y'« -- "-k to
A slight shiver passed over the marquis as he replied
stormTs thts."''^' "^ ^°°' '^'''''''' '' ^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^
The rnarquis stopped at the entrance of the passage to the
fourth Bazm.ere. His thoughts went back to^he night of
September i8th, 1698, when M. de Saint Mars, arriving from
Pignerol to take up his governorship of the Bastilll had
brought with him, in a litter, a prisoner from the ci adel of
M ^Lnrt\^''^F'T '^^"^Pn^oner was received by
M. Dujonca, the then lieutenant du roi, and put for a couple
of hours m the first Bazini^re. At nine o'clock the saS e
night he was transferred to the third Bertaudibre, where he
remained until his death. He was allowed ever^tWngthat
he asked for except his liberty, and even the governor did
not sit in his presence. The face of this prisoner was never
seen. It was covered with a black velvet visor, the lower
part of which was furnished with steel springs to permit the
wearer to eat and drink without inconvenience. 0?ders were
given to kill the prisoner on the instant if the visor were
emoved. He died on November 19th, 1703, and was buTfed
m the nansh rhnrph of Qf p^„i ~i \.' , . .
"r W "."• ■" '""•' -^""'> '-iusc at nand, under the
.P.'!S f ^^'f'^'S''^'- I" his g^ave was hidden for ever the
secret of the Man in the Iron Mask.
fv^
a fcent Squire
207
by a spiral
ills, which
It to about
)oms were
:h floor a
e staircase
3m. The
de of the
ing of the
)anion,
le— that I
spectfully.
J you up
s ago. If
arrival of
e sank to
t such a
ge to the
night of
'ing from
tille, had
:itadel of
5ived by
a couple
the same
vhere he
ling that
rnor did
as never
le lower
xmit the
ers were
or were
s buried
ider the
ever the
A mist came before the eyes of the martiuis, and the
picture rose unbidden in his memory of the tall and graceful
form, the costly raiment, and the veiled face of the man whom
he had seen seated at the table of the first Bazinit;re, when
Leblanc had opened the door for him thirteen years before.
He made an effort to throw off the gloom which the reminis-
cence mspired in him, and motioned to the turnkey to
proceed.
" You will admit me, and then leave us, my good Leblanc."
said he. / o ,
" I must lock the doors aft.r you, as you are aware, M. le
marquis."
'* Certainly. When I knock, you can let me out again."
Leblanc unlocked the ponderous outer and inner doors
which separated the landing from the cell, and threw them
open. He stood aside for the marquis to pass, and called
" A visitor for the fourth Bazinibre."
CHAPTER XXVII
THE FOURTH BAZINl^RE
The marquis found himself in a six-sided room of about
eighteen feet diameter and somewhat the same height It
had a larg- open fireplace, the chimney of which was ob-
structed by heavy iron grids placed at different distances in
me Hue. Un the left was a glass casement, opening inwards.
This casement gave access to a sort of tunnel about six feet
high, which ran through the thickness of the wall—nearly
eighteen feet at this point— to the open air. The tunnel was
guarded at its outer extremity by an immensely strong iron
grating, and a similar grating was placed about half way from
the casement. Three steps ascended from the floor of the
room to that of the tunnel. This was a model of most of
the windows of the Bastille.
The room was furnished with a small bed hung with
dingy green serge curtains, a table and arm-chair in rather
dilapidated condition, a basin and ewer, a large earthen oot
h^rT^"""' a orass candlestick in which a lighfed candle was
burning, a tm goblet, a broom, tinder-box, and matches, and
one or two other conveniences. The temperature of the room
! f
ao8
a "Rent Squire
"1 '■'tl
III
up
was not uncomfortable. The enormous thickness of the walls
of the Bastille was said to temper to a great extent any
extremes of heat and cold which might prevail outside, and
the masonry, except in the cac/iofs, was always perfectly dry
A meagre fire of wood logs burned upon the stone hearth
There were rio fire-dogs, tongs, poker, or shovel, these being
evidently looked upon as superfluous luxuries
♦k'^/'1,°''''"P1"' °/ *\^ ''°"* ^^^ ^'-^ted '" the arm-chair at
the table, reading by the light of his candle. He looked
as the door opened and the visitor was announced
The marquis saw before him a man of tall 'stature and
apparently of great strength. His massive features were pale
a pair of brilliant eyes almost disappeared beneath overhanging
eyebrows and forehead, and his nose was arched like the beak
of an eagle His hair fell upon his shoulders in long, thick
w-aves,and his beard rested upon the table. The blackness
of hiS hair and eyebrows formed a startling contrast to the
pallor of his skin, etiolated by long confinement. He fixed
his gaze m expectant silence upon the marquis. The latter
bowed, and waited till Leblanc had placed a second candle
on the table and closed the door behind him.
"I have the honour of speaking to M. Richard Collins?"
asked de Torcy.
The prisoner rose and bowed.
" So I am called, I believe," he said.
" Otherwise M. Randolph Dorrington ? "
The prisoner made a little movement of surprise and looked
inquiringly at the speaker. luuKca
"That is my name, sir. It is a long while since I have
heard it.
"I am sorry M. Dorrington, that I cannot, without in-
discretion, introduce myself to you by name. I will, however
ask you to believe that I wish you well, and that I have
some little power to give effect to my good wishes. If you
S "0^°^^*"^'°"' ^ '^^^^d ^'^^ to have a little conversation
The prisoner bowed with a certain calm indifference, and
motioned with his hand from the bed to the chair
"Do me thr favour to be seated, sir," he said.
The marquis selected the bed, and the prisoner, after lighting
the second candle, resumed his seat at the table.
**I may say, monsieur" hecran Hf» Tr^ro,, «*u„«. ;•. .- ,-
within the last hour I have learned of your existence, your
imprisonment, your supposed offence, and your innocence."
r the walls
xtent any
tside, and
fectly dry.
le hearth,
ese being
n-chair at
ooked up
iture and
irere pale,
jrhanging
the beak
>ng, thick
slackness
5t to the
He fixed
'he latter
d candle
:ollins ? "
a fAcnt Squire
i looked
I have
bout in-
lowever,
I have
If you
ersation
ce, and
lighting
15 only
e, your
ce."
a 09
" My dear sir, you appear to have a good deal the advan-
tage of me. Not having been informed of my offence, I do
Formerly I
not even know whether I am innocent or not
used to have a little curiosity on tiie point."
" I can explain that in a word, monsieur. Vou were the
l^^^r^i ',']! ^^'"^^ ^^94, of a letter sent by colonel Sackville to
lord Mcifort, which had been tampered with before it reached
his lordship's hands."
"Not by me, or to my knowledge."
" I am aware of tliat. But you got the credit of it— hence
your imprisonment. It was a piece of injustice with which
1 had nothing to do, which I regret profoundly, and which I
am here, I hope, to remedy."
The prisoner's smile sent a chill to the heart of the
marquis.
" That is of course quite easy, my good sir. You have
only to give me back the seventeen years I have spent between
these walls the family and friends to whom I am dead or
forgotten the sunshine, the winds of heaven, my man's life
and all that I have lost in the world outside by the piece
of injustice— which you regret profoundly."
'• Your rebuke is quite just, M. Dorrington. But I have
come here to do what I can, and no man can do more "
Dorrington inclined his head and waited.
mon?eu7? '^""^ ^^^'"^ ^"^ ""'"' "'''" y^^"' ™P"sonment,
M "l^Ho^on't^h °^ '^''' ^" ^^^ '' ^^ M- ^^ Saint Mars and
M. Uujonca there was occasionally a little gossip. Since thev
died no one speaks to us. I was told of the dv uhs of kinj
James, king W n,,,m, and the king of Spain, aLo about the
recomme, ,nent of the war nine years ago. Very little since."
over Frn;.T"''^"rr'' '^!," ^""^[""^S' but is, I hope, practically
over. France has suffered much in this Ion- contest mainlv
through your duke of Marl! orough." ' ^
" He is a duke, is he ? "
" f,?^^T^ y^^^s past. Did you know him ? "
Shghtly. A d d hound."
This description very much inte. -sted the marquis.
Ihe seed appears to be already sown," he
insen^r'ablf 7JfT\ ^i'f\ '*^1 ^'^^ foster-brothers and
Place oId%,-r?-,'' ^ ^^i^r"" ^^°"S^^ "P ^t his father's
place— old sir Lionel's, at Helmi^gham. "
14
thought,
general
210
a ikent Squire
!■!
"I regret to inform you that he died soon after your arrival
here — in 1694."
" I have long since been resigned to all my losses, known
and unknown; but you could not have told me of a
greater one."
"I believe the general was a man of exceptional genius in
his profession?" °
" That was the opinion of all good judges, and no one
knew It better than Jack Churchill. It was a toss up between
the^two for capacity, and there was no third."
" Probably there was no love lost between such able rivals ? "
hazarded the marquis.
nu '^u'^n T^^P'^sh had no ill-feeling in him for anyone. But
Churchill had a poisonous jealousy of Talmash : there was no
trick he would not have played to get him out of the way."
J,- ,r ^<'<Su. '' ^" invaluable fellow," said the marouis to
himself. This is very interesting, M. Dorrington," he went
on, because it throws some additional light upon the cir-
cumstances which led to your imprisonment. I understand
MelfonT""° ^^^ ^^"^' '^^'''^ ^°" ^'°"S^* ^° ^°'d
" .^°th^"g whatever. A friend of mine-captain Floyd— was
the intended messenger, but he broke a blood-vessel at Dover
and could not go on. I offered to deliver the letter for him
as he had told me it was urgent. His safe-conduct was unde^
the name of Richard Collins, which, of course, I adopted I
was accustomed to travel in France, and spoke the language
passably, as you hear. That is all I know about it "
I may tell you, M. Dorrington, that that letter was of
great consequence to our government. It informed us of
the intended destination of a considerable armament fittine
L"iT^'1 "'u^,^ Portsmouth under admiral Russell and
general Talmash."
" I recollect that. I was with Talmash at the time. Some
spy must have got hold of the secret, I suppose."
As a result, monsieur, of your journey, we were warned
just in time to make preparations to resist the attack on Brest
which was m question." '
The marquis did not think it at all necessary to explain
that the said preparations had been made by Vauban three
weeks buore the duke's letter arrived, in consequence of a
previous warning sent to Louis XIV. by lord Godolphin, the
™^mTn.'' ''"""' ^'^^ Marlborough, in the service of
m
■ your arrival
)sses, known
i me of a
al genius in
md no one
up between
ble rivals ? "
lyone. But
lere was no
e way."
marquis to
J," he went
on the cir-
understand
ght to lord
Floyd — was
el at Dover
sr for him,
was under
dopted. I
e language
ter was of
ned us of
lent fitting
ussell and
le. Some
re warned
: on Brest,
to explain
ban three
ence of a
Iphin, the
service of
a ment Squire 211
"You may take it for granted, my dear sir," replied
Dornngton, " that I should have burnt that letter if I had
known of Its contents-with all respect for your country of
course. What happened after, may I ask ? " ^
" In the attack of June 8th, which followed, the Enelish
ships and troops were met by a considerable force when thev
had expected to find no resistance, and had to retire with
heavy loss. Your friend Talmash received a fatal wound, and
died a few days afterwards." '
The prisoner sighed heavily.
"Poor Talmash," he muttered to himself. "Death is
r..I° ""' ^u l^'' ^"' ^^^^^^ i« bitter, and defeat by
treachery is the bitterest of all." ^
The marquis prepared to play his trump card.
the writer":; th'. wr'^'^'K^^- ^r^^Ston, to learn who was
the writer of the letter you bore. It was an Englishman."
An Englishman ! Who was the scoundrel ? "
1 he earl of Marlborough."
"Jack Churchill? Impossible, sir. Even he thief and
har as he is, could not be such a villain"
It is as I say,"
king James need not have been the only one ''
JrXl 'ac?ot ' ''^ ''' '^^" °" ^^^ ^^^'^ -^^ ^ bio-
"Good heavens, sir!" he cried, «' it was done to destrnv
Talmash-to ruin his reputation by a crushin" faihire 3
pernaps^get him killed out of hanS. Wa^^ t e'teT' such
" You can understand," proceeded the marquis " that th.
earl would not like his letter read by ^ny^ fd;nd of h^
general's, such as vonrsplf T^of l ^- '"^"" °' the
necessar^ to put you "n he Ba« nJ? r'^^ " "' "'°"8'«
Talmash!" "'^ ^'°'^ J""" "^ou'd warn
letilJ"?" ^'"''"'"' ''"" " "'' I "ho had carried his
Hrh^dr^l^td"-- ?""~''=° "' ^"^ imprisonment
to prevenTthT^mS^h^roV H^SftSrinr't.^ '^^^"
there was every disposftion to o'ChT ThuP^r S
I !
I
{ ,a
! ' i
■a <
212
a ment Squire
porrmgton folded his arms and leaned back in his chair.
Well, sir, I can only say I am sorry for your visit and
your news. You have embittered the re-inder of a life
to which I had become reconciled-first, because I learn that
there is such a villainy to be punished, and second, because
I am powerless to punish it."
The marquis began to see daylight. But he thought it
well to make assurance doubly sure.
"As to that, monsieur," said he, "I hope you are mis-
taken. Ihe irritation you naturally feel will doubtless soon
pass away— one does not keep up grudges for ever. All this
did not happen yesterday."
"Sir, you forget that your yesterday and mine are two
different things. My yesterday was May 8th, 1694 "
" Still, monsieur, if— I only suggest it as a possibility— if
you obtained your release, you would scarcely jeopardise
"My liberty, sir, would be valueless to me if I could not
use It to revenge my foster-brother."
"Monsieur, forgiveness is a Christian duty "
The marquis was quite pleased at the glibness with which
he found himself enunciating this pious exordium. Dorrineton
looked at him for a moment in silence.
" I have the impression, sir," he said, " that you are hinting
at some sort of a bargain with me."
" In what way, monsieur ? "
"You have made it clear that monstrous and cruel wrongs
have been committed, and at the same time you wish to
screen the author of those wrongs. You seem to suggest that
if I will let this Judas go scot-free I may hope to have that
door opened for me." ■> f
The marquis began to feel a little anxious.
"I do not say you are right, monsieur," he remarked : "but
if you are " '
Dorrjngton rose from his seat, and his mighty bulk
mrnacin °''^' ^™'""''^'«^ marquis with a sternness almost
" If I am, sir," he said, " you have wasted your time. For
seventeen years I have suffered wrong patiently, because it
was useless to be impatient. But if you tell me in one hr^^h
to nope lor liberty, and in the next to be patient under wrongs
a thousandfold greater than I had ever dreamed of-then. sir
1 Say It IS not m human nature to be patient." '
i
i m
I his chair,
'our visit and
der of a life
e I learn that
:ond, because
16 thought it
you are mis-
Dubtless soon
fQT. All this
nine are two
possibility — if
ly jeopar'^ise
treachery of
I could not
iS with which
Dorrington
u are hinting
cruel wrongs
you wish to
suggest that
to have that
arked; "but
nighty bulk
nness almost
r time. For
, because it
1 one breath
nder wrongs
•f — then, sir,
a Ikent Squire 2,3
This reply filled the marquis with satisfaction.
"Then you refuse," he said, "to accept your release on
condition of leavmg M. de Marlborough alone ? "
Dorrington sat down again.
" I refuse," he said.
The marquis cogitated for several seconds, during which
Dorrmgton seemed himself busied in thought.
" If I set this man free now," reflected de Torcy, "he will
go straight to the duke and cut his throat, before there is anv
absolute necessity. If I keep him here till necessity arises, he
may bungle thmgs through having been so long on the shelf
and finding himself entirely out of date about places and
people. I think we must compromise matters a little. Let
us try some more preaching."
"My dear M. Dorrington," he said at length, "I can
assure you I had no idea of making any such propo al as yoS
suggest. On the other hand, I confess that your conduct °n
one respect rather surprises me." ^onuuci in
" What is that, sir ? "
M"Jf"i[r'^K'^'"^'l^° ^"^^'^'^^ ^ monstrous charge against
ato^'telfi^'nge? '''' "P°" ''' ""^"^^^^^^^ --'- '^ -
Dorrington looked keenly at the marquis
talki!;g^;o1eTh:'"'^'' '^ '''''''' '''''' ^- ^-^^-- were
^ Jhe marquis would have blushed if he had not forgotten
" You do me honour," he said. " At the same tim*^ h i.
duetto the duke ,ha. such things should nVrsaaTi.hou?
" You are right. I was hasty."
whiutave sS!^ ' ''"""' ^' *'' """"'"' '""•''>• P™"' of
"Does the proof exist?"
befor?you"»^' ^' '' °"'^ ^ ^"^'^'°" °^ ''"^^ ^^'^en I can lay it
" In what form, may I ask ? "
"The letter you carried, of course."
Dorrington's eyes flashed,
;; That is enough," said he. " In the meantime "
.._.^" ^^^, meantime, my dear M. Dorrington. it .PPm= a nitv
uia. you snouiu waste any more time in this place.""""" ^ ^
tremlr^hisvlr "^'" ''^'^ ^^^ ^---' ^'^ ^ ^"S^t
i.
I
i
14
a Ikent Squire
^
"Well, not exactly. To be candid, M. Dorrington, I am
so situated that I might get into terribly hot water if you
were known to be at large through any action or influence
on my part — so much so, indeed, that I must beg of you to
understand that I positively refuse to listen to any application
that you or anyone else may make for your release. On the
other hand "
The marquis paused and produced his snuff-box.
"Well, sir?" asked the prisoner, in a tone of cold dis-
appointment.
" On the other hand,"' continued the marquis, leaning
forward to offer his snuff-box, " if you were in England,
M. Dorrington, to what address would it be convenient to
you for me to send M. de Marlborough's letter ? "
Dorrington was too much bewildered to accept the proffered
courtesy.
" What was your usual house of call in London, for in-
stance?" asked the marquis urbanely, as he helped himself
to a pinch.
" Will's Coffee-house," replied Dorrington, in a puzzled
tone. " But it may have been closed or burnt down long
ago."
" I think not," said the marquis, " because a friend of yours,
or rather of your family, who has been inquiring after you,
gave me that address only a couple of days ago."
** Inquiring after me ? who ? " asked Dorrington in amaze-
ment.
" M. Ambrose Gwynett, a gentleman of Kent."
" I have no recollection of the name. I don't understand
it at all."
" You had better ask for him at the cafe you speak of."
"But you are speaking in riddles, sir."
" I will speak in parables for a change. Listen with all
your ears, M. Dorrington, while I tell you a little story.
A propos, are you familiar with the road between Paris and
Vincennes ? "
" Yes — that is, as it used to be."
" I don't think there is much change. Well, once upon a
time you are listening, M. Dorrington ? "
" Go on, sir."
" Once upon a time there was a prisoner who was confined
ill a jUiiiuoo n_t ua Can lu lUc XJclsilhc IL iiUUUCSlCU lllUl IIIIS
prisoner was to be removed to another prison — let us say
Vincennes. He was told of this intended removal the evening
igton, I am
Abater if you
or influence
g of you to
' application
se. On the
3f cold dis-
uis, leaning
n England,
•nvenient to
he proffered
don, for in-
ped himself
a puzzled
down long
nd of yours,
g after you,
)n in amaze-
understand
ik of."
ten with all
little story.
1 Paris and
)nce upon a
as confined
tcu iiiui luia
-let us say
the evening
^1
The Fourth Bazinikre.
—Page 211,.
i
U i''M
(■.
. 1i '■'
!>;; ft ■
?' 1<
: il
!
4
!
I
a fkcnt Squire 215
before by a friend, who furnished him with a purse containing
—let us see— ten louis in gold."
The marquis pulled out a purse of gold, counted ten louis
back mto it, put the rest in his pocket, and threw the purse
under the bed on which he was sitting.
"By some accident or other," he went on, "the carriage
broke down on the journey to Vincennes. The prisoner was
seated mside with only a turnkey in charge of him. The
coachman being occupied with the horses and overturned
carriage, the turnkey went to assist him. Curiously enough
a horse, ready saddled and bridled, was hitched to the
back of the carriage. Probably it was intended for the turn-
key to ride back again— I forget exactly. You can ride
M. Dorrington?" *
1^' Of course," replied Dorrington under his breath.
" By the way, the horse could scarcely have been for the
turnkey, because there was a greatcoat strapped to the saddle
and a valise containing a passport, fifty louis d'or, scissors'
a razor, and various odds and ends. I think there were
pistol-holsiers also. No doubt it was for someone going on
a journey."
Dorrington nodded.
" Scissors and a razor are very useful things, M. Dorrington ? "
asked the marquis, stroking his clean-shaven jaw and chin.
"To a man who might not have shaved lately," replied
Dorrmgion, with his eyes fixed on the marquis.
" Weil, in the confusion of the moment the prisoner got
out of the carriage, seized the horse, galloped ofiF before the
turnkey or the coachman could stop him, and made good
his escape— possibly to England."
"Did not his custodians fire at him? "
'= Really I quite forget. Perhaps they did. But I presume
the muskets missed fire or something— some people can
always miss fire just at the wrong time. Well, I think that is
the end of my story, M. Dorrington. Does it interest you ? "
The prisoner held out his hand.
" I thank you from the bottom of my soul," he said.
The marquis rose and grasped the proffered hand.
"It is understood that you wait for M. de Mariboroueh's
letter before "
"I will wait."
The marquis knocked on the door. T.eblanc opened it.
"I wish you a very good evening, monsieur," said th*
marquis negligently, as he turned towards the door
! <
r «<
'lf,i
i' <
216
S Ikent Squire
♦• I am obliged for your visit, sir," replied Dorrington in a
formal tone.
The door closed and the prisoner was left alone.
About ten minutes elapsed before the marquis and Leblanc
emerged into the archive-room. The turnkey's fingers
caressed certain louis d'or in his breeches pocket as they
crossed the Grande Cour to the drawbridge.
"You may depend upon me, M. le marquis," he said
earnestly.
m
t ,
il; n
iii
mi
CHAPTER XXVIII
SETTLING THINGS
The lieutenant du roi, whose presence was necessary for the
opening of the gate and the raising of the drawbridge,
escorted the marquis uack to the Cour du Gouvernement,
and was invited by de Bernaville to join the supper-table.
Then the marquis appeared to recollect something.
'' Peste! my dear governor, it has just occurred to me
that M. d'Argenson is expecting me. I quite forgot I had
an appointment with him this evening;"
The governor looked very much disappointed.
*| Is it urgent, M. le marquis ? " he asked plaintively.
" Well, no — if I could only have given him notice. But I
think I must send him a line to say I cannot possibly come."
" That is well. I will have it sent at once," said de Berna-
ville, recovering his cheerfulness and opening an escritoire
for the marquis.
"Not at all, my dear de Bernaville. My coachman has
nothing to do, and he will get there sooner."
The marquis sat down and wrote :
" My dear d'Argenson,
I must see you to-night— say in an hour and a half,
DE TORCY."
This was duly despatched by M. de Torcy's coachman, and
the party sat down to supper,
"You had a long chat \Wth the fourth Bazinibre, M. le
marquis," observed the lieutenant du roi.
"Yes; he is a rare gossip, I thought he could have en-
lightened me about some old scandals that have cropped up
Bi'U
rington in a
and Leblanc
:ey's fingers
ket as they
is," he said
isary for the
drawbridge,
avernement,
lupper-table.
g-
rred to me
rgot I had
ely.
:ice. But I
\y come."
1 de Berna-
1 escritoire
chman has
a half.
: ToRCY."
;hman, and
^re, M. le
1 have en-
Topped up
t
a fjcnt Squire 217
again lately, but it was after his time. I think you said he
was a ten livre man, M. de Bernaville ? "
•' He is. There are two more on that scale."
" M. Desmarets and I have been talking about overhauling
the tariff lately. You will regret to hear that, my dear governor ;
but our expenses are enormous. I really can't imagine why
this fourth Baziniere was ever put on the ten livre list. I see
nothing in the case for anything over five livres, whatever your
other two may be."
"Our own expenses are not light," said the governor, who
began to feel alarmed.
"Well, I think it is the governor of Vincennes who has
occasion to grumble. Whom are you sending him ? "
" I had not decided," replied de Bernaville. " But if there
is any chance of the fourth Baziniere being cut down to five
livres, that settles it — he shall go."
" I think you are very prudent, my dear de Bernaville,"
said the marquis. " If I recollect right, a prisoner is usually
removed in charge of the turnkey of his tower ?"
" That is so," put in the lieutenant. " Naturally he knows
more about him. Leblanc, whom you saw, has the Baziniere."
"A very trustworthy fellow, I should judge," said the
marquis- " Have you a special coach on these occasions ? "
" Necessarily— with shutters. We hire one, as the need
arises so very seldom."
"Why go to that expense? I really think d'Argenson
ought to lend you one of his. He must have half a dozen."
" I never thought of that," said the governor, who saw his
way to a little economy in this arrangement. " But he may
say it is not his department."
"Well, I suppose he would be right. But you may use
my name in the matter, my dear governor; d'Argenson's
bark is always worse than his bite."
"I will certainly do as you suggest, M. le marquis."
Supper was eventually over, and the marquis took his leave.
" Between ourselves, my dear de Bernaville," he said con-
fidentially at parting, "Desmarets will certainly reduce that
fourth Baziniere to the five livre list. For my part, I don't
know why the deuce we keep such people at all."
The sieur Nicolas Desmarets was the controller-general
of finances.
" I am immensely obliired to vmi fnr thf^ hint m ]p.
marquis."
As soon as the carriage was out of the Rue St. Antoine
I t ^
I
Hi
i • '
arj
Vi '-4
2i8
a "Rent Squire
the marquis told the coachman to drive to the hdtel of the
heutenant-general of police. M. d'Argenson was at home
cSurtyard."''"''^"" ""^"^ '"' ^^^ ''^"'"^^ '^'""'"^^ >" ^^^^
Half an hour afterwards the hall-door opened and the two
mmisters appeared upon the threshold.
laughing. '' '^'^''^""^ demoralising, marquis," said d'Argenson,
'' /"es^e/ my dear comte, think of the economy. Ten livres
a day comes lo three thousand six hundred and fifty livres
:Jr7a7roTfoJ' ''' ^'^ '''''' "^ ^•^^«^'^- -"fi^-^-'
.JTf "V'^^^'" '"u"''^^ '^ somehow " replied the lieutenant-
general of police as he shook hands with the marquis
The next morning M. de Torcy entered the king's cabinet
at Versailles at his usual hour.
"Sire," he said, as soon as they were alone, "does your
majesty happen to recollect a little conversation we had on
king^orspa^nf"'''"'''"^ '^''* ''"''" ^'"""^ ^'' "^^^'''y '^^
" What about it ? ' asked the king.
"We spoke of what was to be done if M. de Marlborough
took our money and played us false after all."
" It was you who spoke of it, marquis."
"Perhaps so, sire. I believe I expressed a desire to find
somebody who would be just fool enough to attempt what
might be necessary, and not fool enough to fail "
;|I do not listen to these things, marquis," said the king.
Very good, sire. But I think I have found our fool."
h6tel of the
IS at home,
ned in the
md the two
d'Argenson,
Ten livres
fifty livres
confidential
lieutenant-
is.
ig's cabinet
' does your
we had on
lajesty the
arlborough
sA
BOOK III
Z\)c Htfair at tbe * Crown an^ Bncbor*
ire to find
;mpt what
J king,
fool."
■19
!<
B Ikent Squire
tai
CHAPTER XXIX
THE DUKE IN LONDON
On the night of the departure of the Mermaid ^nA the Fieur
de Lys from Scheveningen a terrific hurricane arose in the
Enghsh Channel and swept over the North Sea. The Afer/nn'd
was obliged to run before the gale for a couple of days, aiid
only made the mouth of the Thames with the greatest difficulty
Nothing had been seen of the Fleur de Lys, and lord Marl-
borough was assured by the captain of the Mermaid that the
brig might have been driven to make for the Elbe or the
Frith of Forth. The duke was therefore in a fever of anxiety
when, on November 17th, he landed at Greenwich.
Here he was met by a party of the Whig oppo'-tion, in.-
pressed to associate himself with the great political demonstra-
tion to br hciu hat day in London, when the ministers were
to be c^ alienged after hostile processions through the city
by a gn at burnin in effigy of the pope, the devil, and the
Pretende., a.tenue.i as a test of popular feeling in the matter
of the Pro :iiru succession. This, with his usual caution
he excused nimself from doing, and went instead to wait upon
the queen at Hampton Court, partly with the idea of recovering
some of his lost influence with Anne, and partly to try and
secure her promised contribution towards the completion of
his palace of Blenheim, near Woodstock. The queen had
undertaken, not only to build, but to furnish, this edifice •
but of late the contractors had not been paid, and were in
consequence pressing their claims upon the duke in person
Nothing satisfactory, however, came of the interview, and the
duke returned very much annoyed to Marlborough House
To this meeting-place all the Whig magnates resorted to
discuss the political situation with their leader, whose personal
interests were so much mixed up with their own. A fortnight
passed in continuous conference with the Jacobite agents, the
disaffected or weak-kneed Tory peers, and the representatives
of the allied powers on the continent. These were, as has
been said earlier, van Buys and baron von Bothmar. the
envoys of the States -General and the elector; baron von
Kreyenberg, the Hanoverian resident; and the comte de
v^alas, tile ambassador of the emperor of Germany
The duke's position was critical. The whole forces of the
triumphant Tories were in the field against him. An army
i
222
„!'-
1.
1 ;i
1 i'
j
i
1
t
a IRent Squire
aljle peace, and it was an open secret that sweepinc charires
armv ?'' h" '" '^™"'="i<'" ""h the administration of The
army were be.ng prepared against him. A large and comnlrf
raajomy m the Commons was ready to vote hfs imnMSfi^
ttelVSTf "« °P^"'"8 of parliaLntJand withTle e"cep
=^/tsStr„°^^tIesth7w^^^^^^^^
:itriSy°;y''°,:^pS3^'we''s„^r'? ^^^^^^
foT his": P-^°f -'Pon wL'tXtdi^at^eV o llista"
J^^'toTcu^'t^e ™?estf'„^:/y-^ ve°Xtt£l
r o"pprtir'7de*^;/i!;?e" iSe i: ^-r ''™«'" ?
torra?r^°"^- -" '^^ «- «<sttd pZS
In the country the general desire for a cessitfnn nf fho
was tempered by an angry suspicion ?hat S "r "^f
po mica Hatreds. Ihe queen herself oscillated from dav to
dk^it. Jk" ^'' .resentment against the Marlboroughs hS
a'fh\r'te"rher'T"""^^^'^ ''''''' of Sver)
^^Tff \ L f "^^ ^^'■y ministers snould be serreMv
Parliament met on Decemhnr -rfh t« *i, i
of those who delighted ?n' wa Lnthnf """'i"«- ""= '"'
appointed for opening thL" tr^aly o?'a |>n "afpe^S ■•' S
innuendo the duke resented with his usual w?Th„f ^
of the ministeriaip^rfidy ° " ""^ ^'^' m denunciations
The most obviously convenient way of damaging the govern-
»>
H Ikeut Squire
22
' an honour-
)ing charges
tion of the
md compact
npeachment
the excep-
mpromising
lig majority
ily he dealt
lis juncture
;o his fears
le sums in
ibers of the
strengthen
n urgently
i promised
of the war
ories only
were more
ry to their
om day to
3ughs, her
Hanover),
e secretly
chevalier
;ue at this
as much
lose chief
id seemed
[eanwhile,
Jonent of
Catholic
's speech,
ough was
the arts
ime were
2." This
of pious
! habitual
inciations
e govern-
ment was to insist that the intended peace involved a dis-
graceful surrender of all the objects for which Great Britain
had contended during ten years of brilliantly successful war
Therefore the Whig majority in the Lords, reinforced by an
mfluential Tory deserter in the person of the earl of Nottingham
moved an addition to the address, which represented " that
no peace could be safe or honourable to Great Britain or
Europe should Spain and the Indies be continued in anv
branch of the house of Bourbon."
This proposal was followed by a venomous debate, in which
the whole weight of the government was employed against the
Whigs. The duke amazed his friends and delighted his
enemies by throwing aside all his wonted diplomacy and
attacking the peace policy of the Tories with unsparing bitter-
ness. Finally the address, with its addition, was carried bv
sixty-one votes to fifty-five, and p' isented to her majesty on
December nth. j / •
The queen and her ministers had long before secretly agreed
with Louis XIV. to recognise the sovereignty of his grandson,
the king of Spain, to oppose which had been the sole object
of the \yar. Nevertheless, in her reply to the address she
remarked ''that she should be sorry that anyoneshouM
IIT.U 'rV^% "'^"^^ "°' ^° ^^' "^'^^^^t t° recover Spain
and the Indies from the house of Bourbon."
This reply foiled for a moment the tactics" of the Whies in
parliament, and they resumed their intrigues outside of it It
was the common talk that the States-General and the elector
'Trr i ? f °"' \^'^' ^" °^^^^ *° ^^P^^t the coup J'aTof
1688 and to depose the queen. ^
r^i^h^T'if ^t' ^^^ ^"™osity of the Tories threatened to over-
each itself by Its very virulence. They freely threatened to
behead the duke if his reported purchase of eight mn?steria°
votes was proved, and ^ pestered the queen so persSent v to
remove from office the Whig duke of Somerset, ma er of the
horse, that her majesty became quite annoyed. Having been
present at the debate in the Lords on December rctli she
T.if' "u '^°'" ^'^'^ ^y the Tory duke of Shrewsburv
whether she would prefer being escorted out of the Hou e bv
himself, as lord chancellor, or by lord Lindsay, as hereditarj
frroflhT'd^ Of s'oLVs^ ^ ''-'-' '^'' -^ -^ "e
This news was all over the town in an hnnr Th« t •
thai for a week past he had declared the queen was ,»t ,"
224
H fseut Squire
fit
h
1
t ■■
1
lil>'
(
i'. !
Hi'.
be relied on Lord Oxford smoothed her maiestv doWn hv
avernng that he had not the least desire to Sve Somerset
or his duchess from court, and the lord chancellor wSit to
call upon Marlborough with overtures of friend shin The
As a matter of fact, the duke was in the middle of »
cnttcal mtemew with the comte de Galas. The ambass^do?
was pressing upon Marlborough the identinl n7o,f„.v
"k-^k t" ''', "^ ■l^'^y '" « co»e Ltion w h lS X v"
which has already been reported to the reader ThTwas to
promise to assume command of the imperial forces to clr^
on the war between the empire and France for the recove^
fs^p^irpS^e^h' ^ "^ifco^Zd^lTF^
viou.y mooted the proposal, a„d\\Vnrur^Si;"det:Xg
jusS, r?uirinte"n^^5 ^oXr his'liS to^^de-^-T '""'
^^^ ^o^.^^'X,°Lc^ai^£ES
pertulTf ^'ile^pS ""^ '''^ '>-'"™ < ^EngT/nd' J^s
final answer to the ambassador's overtures ^ * "
iraSirof ^/mp:r,^Tich°^Td"S^'eT"\- Th^
means of his being deported from En^ b^^ne mSstr;
SZ ,«T"«'">' """'' annoyed at Marlborough\T™ver'
""°rdlt:r;?.ri;^^';!,.!;'.^?!-"-.nociut»'''"
definite reply ,o our suggestions. We are liable at any
sty down by
>ve Somerset
llor went to
Iship. The
iply engaged
niddle of a
ambassador
proposition
-ouis XIV.,
This was to
:es to carry
he recovery
concluding
n fact, pre-
demanding
To do him
> de Torcy
IS devoured
? Z,ys, now
ccount the
torn of the
he might,
career for
igland was
inquire at
ver Street
Street) for
result, and
ne errand,
I'one else,
ming, the
I giving a
?nce and
been the
ministry.
3 tergiver-
:lue.
urge that
receive a
e at any
H -Rent Squire 225
moment to be confronted with the virtual conclusion of a
separate peace on the part of lord Oxford, and it is of the
utmost consequence that even before that juncture we shou'd
know exactly upon whom we may rely."
^ "With all deference, my dear comte," replied the duke,
1 ditter from you as to the imminence of peace between
this country and France. Even if it were otherwise, I do
not feel that I am sufficiently informed as to the probable
policy of the elector and the States-General to justify me
m assuming so serious a responsibility."
As both Buys and von Bothmar, to say nothing of
Kreyenberg, were furious for the continuation of the war
this argurnent of the duke's failed to impress the ambassador. '
My dear duke," he retorted, "the enthusiasm of our
respected allies is as great as it ever was."
ul^.^^r^ no doubt of that," replied Marlborough. "But
hitherto Great Britain has paid for that enthusiasm, my dear
comte, which makes all the difference. In the fu tire it ap-
pears that their enthusiasm will have to be its own reward "
1 he ambassador began to lose his temper.
Then, duke, I see' very little use in prolonging our con-
versation. I shall, with regret, report to my imperial master
that we must make other arrangements."
This was not what the duke desired. " Other arrangements "
rneant simply that prince Eugfene would at once be offered
IcceST 'tHp^' emoluments at present open to his own
acceptance. I he prince was the last man in the world to
fnarSs ''hurif h™ '° P"°"'^ °^"'" ^'^ ^^^ companion-
nlil^ \ 1 A,,- • ''•'^'■^ appointed generalissimo of the
to hL. ^"'"''u'.' ^°"'^ ^^ unreasonable to expect hir^
duke mT.ht Z '^'" P°''''°" '^f ^^^^^^ '"^^^'y ^^^^"«e th^
^.K ^^} ?r 1 occasion to change his mind. On the
other hand if he violated his promise to de Torcy tha?
worthy diplomatist would at once publish his treachery aU
t'heFr!nrT'-f ^ '^^ '^'^ nlrtun^t. convTct.onVa
morf than ^fT'' unsupported statement would be worth
hZt tTJ-^ °"^''^ 'i""8 ""^ «^*h« o" his own part. In
Deonle M. T"^ "° ^°"^''^'' ^^ ^^'"^ '"^^^d out than other
people. Meanwhile it was evident that the ambassador's
patience was exhausted, and the duke could sS-irce y see
his way to avoid being cornered. At this moment C^r^lr.^^
JtriocK was heard at the door " ~
and ^hrcall^d" t^'n'^r'"'' "^^ ^^^' '°"^^^'" ^^'^ ^^^ duke,
ana he cahed to the secretary to enter. Cardonnel came
i!!l
226
a ment Squire
I I-
■i J
Hi
in, laid a slip of paper on the table, and waited. On the
slip was written :
"Fkur de Lys reported at Lloyd's off the Tower*
The duke gave a great sigh of relief.
''Send a messenger in a coach to bring the captain back
with him. at once," he said to Cardonnel.
The secretary retired, and the duke turned to Galas.
My dear cornte," he said, "believe that 1 am fully sensible
of the honour done me by his majesty in all that you have
laid before me. But I have the strongest feeling that only
actual danger to the integrity of the present possessions of
his imperial majesty would justify me, before the eves of
my countrymen, in taking the field against France if Great
Britain itself were at peace."
''That is not the point in the least," cried the exasperated
ambassador. Nobody supposes the empire has a French
invasion to fear. The thing is ridiculous "
^^ "Precisely so, my dear cornte," said the duke soothingly
At the same time, you can see for yourself that such a
contingency would be my sole valid excuse for acceptine his
majesty's very flattering offer." ^ ^
y That is equivalent, duke, to a refusal."
" Do not say so, my dear cornte. I only suggest that the
occasion for my services appears very unlikely to ^ise. When
It does, we can resume our conversation."
The comte rose in a rage.
" My offer will not be repeated, duke-let that be clearly
' yes'T^no ' f'^ '""^"^ '''""' ^°^ ''''• ^" ' ^°^^' ''' '^
reject! ^""^^ '°'^ ""'^^ *^'^ ^^"""^"'^ P°''^^^^ expression of
" If you put it that way, my dear comte, I am sorry that
It IS out of my power to say 'yes'"
"That settles the matter, duke.' I have the honour to
wish you a very good mornir;'."
The ambassador hurried to the door, banged it after nim
and disappeared. The duke sat down with a cheerful smile!
"nniV.K '" '' '^,°"^ ^"^^ ^" ^ ^"sh," he soliloquised :
and the emperor was always a shocking paymaster "
He occupied himself with his nnn^rc .,«<;i ^u^ j ,,
carriage-Wheels was heard in the courtyard. The door opened
and Cardonnel appear .d, looking rather puzzled.
:* ^ t
vaited. On the
)wer.
le captain back
) Galas.
m fully sensible
that you have
eling that only
possessions of
re the eyes of
'ranee if Great
the exasperated
has a French
nke soothingly.
If that such a
• accepting his
Jggest that the
3 arise. When
a Ikcnt Squire 227
" The captain is here, your grace," he said, " but "
wavf'of thrhanT'" "'""^^"' ''' '"'^' "^^'^ ^" ^"^^^^^^^
Cardonnel went out and beckoned to someone in the hall
Come m, captain," he said.
An elderly seafaring man entered, pulled his forelock, and
stood lookmg at the duke with a good deal of curiosity It
was not Kermode. ^
Marlborough looked at him speechlessly for a moment.
Who are you ? " he asked.
dez7" Curwen, your honour-skipper of-the schooner J^/eur
^.xiu''^"i!]^ suspicion began to dawn upon the duke.
II What F/eur de Lys ? " he asked.
''^eur de Lys of Gravesend, your honour."
The duke fell back in his arm-chair as if shot.
Whats to do, your honour?" asked the sailor, comin?
forward sympathetically. ' commg
K '^^t "^S^ ^'^'^'^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^'■^O'' ^nd seemed to gasp for
breath. Then a torrent of imprecations burst from hi ^lips
sktper SI ?. T T"" '''' '" ^''^ ''''^ ^^^^ 'he woSy
Skipper boltea to the door, tore across the hall, and was out
tl^tr r '"^ l"""'"S "P Pa" Mall at his top' speed before
;h:ir^mS to x^r ■;r ^^^^^ ^^- ^ ^-^^ - -n o;;:
that be clearly
n a word, is it
expression of
am sorry that
he honour to
1 it after nim,
2erful smile.
! soliloquised;
3ter."
t-Ur^ -- 1 _A
itiC OUUIJU UI
door opened,
CHAPTER XXX
CHKCKMATE
A DAY or two after the duke's interview with the comte dc^
Sa^^ ^Se:; :^ p^- V^ (S r i^r
throu'ghLoSon WsvavTh."' '°"^' °^^°"' P^^^'"^
by post throueh Sa^isb rv -H ],h^•l°"'•"ey was accomplished
thic ol;Td V -- ^ r ■^''^'^'■' ^"^ ^as considered nf
characte;: ' "' '" ^^P^^'t.on of quite an adventurous
As the squire was a Whig of the deepest dye. it required a
If ■ ■ T
I. I;
m1'
li
:i m!:
228
H Ikcnt Squire
httle diplomacy on the part of the secretary to answer the
innumerable questions put to him by Avice and Noel without
coming t> loggerheads with his elder guest, more especially as
the public interest in the political crisis of the hour almost
excluded other topics of conversation. On the last day of
their stay the young people wished to hear a debate in
parliament, a^d the intense interest excited bv the contest
between the Whigs and the court on the qvxHon ->f the
Hamiltoti peerage suggested the belection of the Hovse of
Lords fos the purpose of a visit.
rhis was on the 20th of Uecemljer. The ;tree'r, in the
neighbouroood of St. Stephen's were alive w-'-h pager
politicians, canvassing the probable results of the party
struggle, and the House of Lords, together with the galleries
and other p:".r,^s opet:. t-.; strangers, was crowded to incon-
venience, ihis interested Avice immensely.
"Explain the whole matter '.o us, Mr. St. John/' she had
said comprehensively, as they were driving down to the
House. " What is it all about ? "
,u "/' '^ % question of prerogative," replied St. John, having
the fear of the squire before his eyes. "The queen has just
cr-ated a peerage, which the Whig party in the House of
Lords refuse to recognise. She has made lord Hamilton
>-iao is a duke m the peerage of Scotland) duke of Brandon
m the peerage of Great Britain."
" I don't see why," said Avice. " I think Hamilton is the
prettier name of the two."
"I will tell the duke what you say. But his grace sits in
the Lords at present as one of the sixteen representative
peers of Scotland, under the Act of Union of 1705. As duke
of Brandon, if the Lords recognise the patent, he will sit as a
peer of Great Britain in his own right."
"Will he get a more comfortable seat in that case ?" asked
Noel with gravity.
" There isn't a comfortable seat in the building," said St
John feelingly. "I have never had a decent nap since I
have been in parliament."
" I don't understand why he should want to sit as duke of
Brandon, any more than why any one should want to stop
" It makes all the difference," explained the secretary. " If
he can sit by his own right, the Scotch neers m.n elect arc-h^
man in his place as one of their representatives." "^'^"^
" Why shouldn't they ? ' asked Avice.
H Ikeut Squire
229
to answer the
id Noel without
re especially as
he hour almost
the last day of
r a debate in
by the contest
iictior,. of the
the House of
streets in the
e wJth eager
of the party
h the galleries
^ded to incon-
ohn," she had
down to the
John, having
lueen has just
the House of
ord Hamilton
e of Brandon
amilton is the
i grace sits in
representative
05, As duke
2 will sit as a
case ? " asked
ing," said St.
; nap since I
it as duke of
want to stop
cretary. '• If
'* You see our party "
'• You Tories, I presume," put in the squire.
" We Tories are in a minority of about half a dozen in the
Lords, and consequently our big majority in the Commons is
only of use to us in money matters. Ill-natured people pretend
that the Brandon patent is simply intended to squeeze an
extra Scotch Jacobite into the House to strengthen our own
muster-roll. They argue that it is only the thin end of the
wedge, and that half a dozen patents of the same sort would
extinguish our opponents' majority. For myself, I don't
understand mathematics."
" Of course it would,'' said Avice innocently.
" Another thing they say," proceeded the secretary, covering
a yawn, " is that the bulk of these Scotch peerages are so
mfernally ancient, and the holders so infernally poor, that we
of the court could always find an excuse for turning a
Scotch peer into an English one, and always find means to
buy his vote afterwards. This is a censorious world, mistress
A vice."
" But I presume, sir," remarked Noel, " that there must be
some legal or constitutional arguments on both sides."
" Good Lord ! " ejaculated the secretary, " of course there
are— enough to sicken one. Don't ask me to bore you with
theni now. You'll hear quite as much as you can stand in
the House. Here we are."
The carriage stopped at Westminster Hall, and the party
were escorted to their seats by St. John. The lord chancellor
had just taken his seat on the woolsack, and the proceedings
were commencing. *^ v-umga
The Tory counsel, at the bar of the House, argued for about
rfh^ ?Ik' '" an unspeakably dreary monotone, that the
right of the sovereign to select the person of a new peer of
Great Britain had no limitation, and that it would be monstrous
It a bcotch representative peer were the only kind of Scotch-
man whom the sovereign could not honour. During these
speeches the House half emptied, and the squire slumbered
as peacefully as circumstances would permit
Ihen there came a sudden rush of members a buzz of
excitement, and St. John whispered over Avice's shoulder.
The queen is coming in."
an?to^;?^^i^J fZ'"' !^"5r'' "^ '""""^'
attendance, and exchanged c"omments'ti[h''he? from Timt°to
time. The temper of the House rose, and the Oppo^ion
f
230
a Ikent Squire
seemed to resent the presence of the sovereign as an attempt
to overawe them.
The Whig counsel were now heard. These urged that the
sovereign could not override the Act of Parliament which
constituted the Union, and which expressly limited the Scotch
peers to sixteen seats in the House of Lords, to be filled
by election; and they pointed out that for Scotch peers to
enter the House by any mode except that of election was to
violate the express intention of the Act by giving the Scotch
peers the double privilege of being present once in their own
persons and again in those of their representatives.
In the debate which followed, at which the queen remained
present, the Whig lords gave free utterance to the additional
considerations at which St. John had hinted, and the Jacobite
peers resented the charges with all the rancour that might
have been expected. The division was prepared for with
the full consciousness on both sides that the result was a
matter of life and death for the Opposition. Finally, amidst
unexampled excitement, the votes of the assembled peers were
demanded from the woolsack. As a result, the House refused
by fifty-seven votes against fifty-two to recognise the Brandon
patent. The queen left the House in a fury at the success-
ful attack on her prerogative. From this time it was war
to the knife between the court and the duke of Marlborough's
party.
" Between ourselves, my dear Mr. St. John," said Noel as
they left the House, " what will this end in ? "
" My dear boy," said the secretary, with a momentary
seriousness, " it means a revolution — of one sort or another.
Only, as yet, I am not quite sure from which side it will
come. I am rather glad that you are all going out of
town. I will see you off in the morning — good-bye for the
present."
The secretary, after sending his friend 5 home, went to fulfil
an engagement to dine with lord Oxforu and afterwards hear
read the draft report of the commissioners of public accounts,
which was to be presented to the House of Commons the
following day. These functionaries were Messrs. Lockhart
and Shippen, both Tories and Jacobites, and it was Mr.
Lockhart whom the ministers were expecting. St. John, as
usual, attacked his colleague's claret with a vigour and per-
severance which threatened to diminish considerably his
utility as a critic. Oxford himself was a distressingly ab-
stemious companion, and never quite knew whether it was
a Ikent Squire
231
1 as an attempt
: urged that the
rliament which
lited the Scotch
ds, to be filled
Scotch peers to
election was to
ang the Scotch
ice in their own
ves.
queen remained
• the additional
nd the Jacobite
:our that might
pared for with
le result was a
Finally, amidst
bled peers were
House refused
se the Brandon
at the success-
ne it was war
Marlborough's
" said Noel as
a momentary
lort or another,
ch side it will
going out of
•od-bye for the
;, went to fulfil
ifterwards hear
ublic accounts,
Commons the
:ssrs. Lockhart
id it was Mr.
St. John, as
igour and per-
tusiderably his
istressingly ab-
^hether it was
more politic to abet or discourage his colleague's bibulous
tendencies. Finally, Mr. Lockhart was announced, and
brought with him a formidable sheaf of papers.
"^ " I am sorry, gentlemen," he said, "to be so late. But the
accounts are excessively complicated."
" You have everything complete now ? " asked Oxford.
"Everything. Of course the most important items arise
out of the depositions of Medina and Machado. But we haVe
also noted the complaints in the memorials to her majesty
forwarded from the Low Countries, although they are not
dealt with in our official report."
This rather tickled St. John.
" \\ nat do the Dutchmen say, my dear fellow ? " he inquired.
" It is rather amusing to find them able to open their mouths
at last."
" One of the memorials is from Ghent, complaining of the
extortionate contributions levied by general Cadogan on behalf
of the duke in return for their protection."
" What did the duke get out of them ? " asked Oxford.
" Six thousand pistoles," replied Lockhart, referring to his
memoranda.
"What next?"
Then we have the affair of the treasonable surrender of
Ghent and Bruges to the French by the city magistrates."
" Do they lay that to the duke and Cadogan / "
" Yes— but the memorial fails to adduce any adequate proof
What they do prove is that the duke, after the recapture of
the two cities, was bribed by the magistrates to continue them
in office."
" How much ? "
"Cadogan received 10,000 pistoles as go-betweea. The
duke himself received 200,000 guilders. There are a lot of
other little things."
After all, this is neither here nor there, Mr. Lockhart.
Come to the contracts. What does Medina's statement
amount to?"
Sir Solomon Medina had been the contractor for bread and
bread-waggons to the allied army between 1707 and 17 11
having been preceded in that capacity by one Antonio Alvarez
Machado. Medina had recognised that his G;,portunities of
making profit on these contracts were nearly, if not quite,
exuausteu, ana was now posing as a virtuous witness against
his patron the duke. ^
"He says," replied Lockhart, "that from 1707 down to
■
i3»
a Ikeiit Squire
I!
a
If
11
I'-
The same thing more or
this last autumn he paid the duke personally ,« 428 cuilder
.n gratifications, besides one per cent, on all moneys pafdo the
duke's deputy at Amsterdam. Mr. Sweet-togeSier wfth tie vl
ZJTT ""'^T' °' ^'''^ y^^^'y- Cai JonneT was p1^
500 ducats on each contract." ^
" Is that all ? "
*' As far as Medina is concerned.
less v^ ' ■ rase with Machado."
t^r''*^ ^^^^^ ^° y°" ""'^^^ out ? "
''\ r ""'^^ *^^^ '" ^^^ t<^" years of the war the duke has
'"' cfod Lord r''>'°"^ c^'^'^^r guilders and 4 s "ers"
'«fhn..f^ . • remarked St. John, with vinous solemnity
those four stivers make the thing very serious-are you au te
sure about them, my dear fellow ? » ' ^ "^
Oxford looker''.: ind took up a pen.
^^ bo that in .ceriing," he asked, " that would be ? "
;663,3i9 y. 7^.," replied Lockhart. "Besides the con
tracts there IS a separate question of two and a half per cenT
which the duke has certainly deducted from »iih5
passing through his hands for fhe ^lytf'th'for^V'^^^^^^^^^
.. Say ;^i 00.000 altogether." said Oxford.
are thockinl'"'" vf "^^/^ ^'^ J?-^"* " ^"' ^^^^^^ ^«"r stivers
are shock mg ! Ye gods and little fishes! to think Tack
Churchill should condescend to pocket four stivers " And
the secretary shook his head sorrowfully ^""^
warned to g1;^roTe7 ''' '"^' ^" ^'^^^ ^^ — -^^ ^^^
Of ;i^^^:^^ ^'^|:ii^?£^^!— "--'"^ --
togedfer.'" '"'''°" P"' °" ' ''^ ^'°^'^' ^"^ g^^he-^ ^is papers
''Everything depends upon the Lords, I suppose?" he siid
^e^i keofhl^^' '"' '°^^' -q-ingi;^f ^Ld' B^
be dravvn ^ '°""'''' '"^ ^'^ "°^ rernnt himself to
|- Good night. Mr. L ockhart," he said.
Good n.gh^ my dear feliow," echoed St. John. "For
132,428 guilder
meys paid to the
her with twelve
jnnel was paid
thing more or
r the duke has
nd 4 s' vers."
ous solemnity,
-are you quite
»e ? "
sides the con-
half per cent,
all the money
:ign regiments
j^4o,ooo."
se four stivers
3 think Jack
ivers ! " And
ecessary, jnd
f further, M-
can be pre
but it will be
is grace will
iwering some
jd his papers
ie?" he said
)xford. But
it himself to
ohn. •' For
a Ikcnt Squfrc 233
heaven's sake o 't let there be any mistak(; about those four
stivers. I am g g too, Bob— pleasant dreams."
A footman ass sted the bibulous secretary downstairs to his
S'outi'd back,"'" '""*"« '■-■ '"""'='' "-""Shtfully, and
" I say. Bob ! what the deuce is a stiver ? "
But as lord Oxford was by this time out of hearin- Mr.
S . John resumed '-S descent to the hall, and stumbled into
his carnage. As he did so, the duke of Marlborough's coach
drove past. St John yelled to the coachman to lop, and the
rurhis^?dt?oTtrwSt ^^^^'^"^ '^^^^"^- ^'^ ^"^^
•• wLatM Z m"te'V'°'"'" '^ ""'' ^^^°^"'^'"g ^^^ ^^^-y'
"Jack !" hiccupped St. John reproachfully, "they've caught
you pocketmg four stivers. I blush for you You^ll hea a
about It to-morrow." ^ «uunnearaii
^nl"^^^rt^^°" ^°'"u-^'; ^^^"'"g. niy dear friend," returned the
duke, withdrawmg his head.
"Heaven bless you! Good night," said the secretary
leanmg bac. on the cushions and going to sleep '^"^^'y'
The next day the commissioners presented their report to
the Commons and another storm of political passionCe
The duke and his friends made no attempt to deny the charts
assertion that the various perquisites in connection with the
Suke's 'timrh "'" h^' '^^'^"^-'^^ ^"^^°- '°"g before he
duke s time, having been sanctioned to all previous com
manders-in-chief, and that the money really consltuted the
secret service fund necessary for the campigns 1 reVrds
the appropriation of the two and a half per c?nt. from thfpav
tt Sueenirthel'T'^' *'^ '"'^^ P^^ ''^^^ ^ warLt fr'on'
the queen in the first year of ner reign, assignii r to him the
percentage m question '« for extraordin!r; con^ngent expenses "
Although these grounds of defence were nof controverted
tne mmistry w th the pretext necessary foi aking their final
steps against the duke and his party majority in^he Lords
que'erima'ated'tLt '^' ^ ^^l ^^^ ^^^^' ^" ^^ich'the
queen latm ated that certain charges Wng been maH^
^h^^tiJ^'V'^' -' Marlborough, shf lu.i resoTved to di-S
fimi .xom . . nis employments, in order that beine no om^r
834
a Ikent Squire
1 1
ill
All through the night of December 30th the Whig leaders
sat deliberating at Marlborough House. A hint of the pro
ceedings at the {)rivy-council had reached the conclave late
m the evening, and it was recognised that affairs had come
to a crisis. The duke's chief supporters— lord , Godolphin,
Sunderland, Somers, Cowper, Halifax, and others— were com-
promised in the higiiest degree by their resistance to the
ministry and the court, and they were prepared to resort to
force rather than be crushed.
It was proposed to take instant advantage of the fact that
the duke's commission was under the great seal, and that
thei.fore his mere dismissal by the queen had no legal
effect. They therefore urged him to use his powers as
lord-general to anticijwte attack, by asseml.ling all the troops
m London in the different squares, taking possession of
St. James's, and securing the person of the queen. This
could easily be done under the pretext of suppressing a
pretended Jacobite rising, and of safe-guarding the sovereign
against the dangers of a revolt in the capital.
The duke listened to these propositions, but arrived at no
decision. Hour after hour went by as one plan afur another
was mooted, discussed, and abandoned. The duke passed
to and fro between the council-room and the boudoir of
duchess oarah, whose rage against the queen and Mrs. Masham
knew no bounds, and who would have precipitated a revolution
with the greatest goodwill if she could have thereby gratified
her resentment against her late mistress.
The night wore away and the last day of the year 171 1
arrived. With the first dawn of morning a couple of letters
were placed in the duke's hands. The first of these had been
written after the privy-council at St. James's the previous
night. It was in the queen's own handwriting, and informed
him that she had no further occasion for his services. The
second was from lord Melfort in Paris. It ran :
"MV DEAR LORD ChURCHILL,
We have just heard quite by accident that the messenger
Randolph Dornngton, whom you will recollect in connection
with the Brest expedition, has eiTected his escape while beinc
transferred from the Bastille to Vincennes, and canr.ot be
traced. It will be well for you therefore to be on your gL-ard.
Melfort.''
The duke started at this new blow. He passed the letter
to the duchess with a glance of suppressed anxiety
Whig leaders
\t of the pro
conclave late
irs had come
i» Godolphin,
s — Were com-
tance to the
1 to resort to
the fact that
cal, and that
lad no legal
s powers as
ill the troops
•ossession of
queen. This
oppressing a
the sovereign
arrived at no
after another
duke passed
! boudoir of
Mrs. Masham
i a revolution
reby gratified
le year 17x1
3le of letters
ese had been
the previous
nd informed
rvices. The
16 messenger
in connection
e while being
id cannot be
a your gt-ard,
Melfort.''
id the letter
a IFccnt Squire 235
"Pooh!" said the duche.s carelessly. •' People have
forgotten all that." ^
rull^ TtI'^ ^^f^f ^° ^''"S '' ^" "P «gain." said the
duke. ^^ It would be worth a dozen contract reports to
" Yes, if there were any proof. But there is nothing except
his man s word-if so much. And it can always be said to
be a malignant invention of Harley's. Think no more about
It. And the duchess tore the letter into shreds.
Nevertheless the duke's brow remained clouded. Years
ago the betrayal of Russell and Talmash had passed from his
recollection and there seemed something ominous in the
shadow of this old treason falling across his path on this day
of all others. He went back to the council-room, where a
straggling breakfast was being partaken of by his colleagues
At ten o'clock a special messenger arrived from the Treasury
Oxford had got wind of the council of war at Marlborough
House, and suspected something of what was transpiring theie
He had hastily summoned a cabinet meeting to deal with
he emergency on the instant. As a result, the messenger
brough a formal dismissal of the duke, under the great seal
from all his appointments. ^ '
The conspirators were paralysed by this stroke. Instead
pL. K? everything in the army, the duke was now nothing.
llnH 7k ^" f"''!''^'" ''^' ""^''^^y '"^t^'led in command
Under these altered circumstances, the slightest attempJa
force would not only be high treason and open rebelhSifbu
would mvolve the instant despatch of the perpetrators to the
Tower Marlborough's characteristic political timidit? so
anvT fhtT'"'' ""'^ his limitless courage in the field, ^ade
Thl w? d'sc^ss'o^' of the proposed programme useless
The Whig magnates took their leave one by one, consoling
hemselves with the fact that their numerical major tys?i 11 lef?
whT'"'???"' f '^' "°"^^ "^ Lords, and res^fveS [hat he
whole political power should be used to repel the attack on
their illustrious colleague.
Godolphin, Oxford's predecessor as lord-treasurer and the
dukes most intimate friend, was the last peer to leave the
concave. He recommended Marlborough ?o reman wit^n
doors, and promised to bring him any fresh newT
^ As the earl passed out of the council-rnnm a^^n^^^ u..
v^ardonnei, a footman came up to Marlborough. ^^ "'
My lord, a man wishes to see you on most oarticnlar
business -from Holland." particular
■/
336
H Ikent Sauire
i'
IM t
i|
'■^ .
'I
\
S ||j
; S 4
i
. 4t
)
f ■ r
•Ivi^^
The duke was known for his invariable accessibility to all
persons desirous of seeing him— a habit incidental to the
necessity of interviewing anonymous personages during his
campaigns. On this occasion he asked no questions, but
replied in a dull tone,
" Send him here. After that, do not let me be disturbed—
I shall see no one except lord Godolphin. Go to the duchess
if any one calls."
The footman bowed, and retired to usher in the visitor.
The duke looked up and recognised the newcomer with a
start. It was captain Kermode.
" Good day, your honour," said the captain.
Something stuck in the duke's throat, and prevented him
asking the only question that interested him.
"Ah," he said, "sit down, captain. Where do you come
from ? "
" Deal, your honour— got there in the Iio}>a/ Mary."
The duke began to tremble.
" The J?oya/ Mary, eh ? "
"Yes, your honour. Schooner belonging to four half-
brothers of mine, bound from Nantucket to Amsterdam with
cod."
"And what have you done with the F/eur de Lys}"
" Very sorry, your honour, but "
"Well?"
" Gone to the bottom, your honour."
A pang of despair passed through the duke at this con-
firmation of his worst forebodings. But he maintained his
self-control by an immense effort, and turned an impassive
face towards the captain.
"That is unlucky," he said, after a pause. "How did
It happen?"
"Well, your honour, those blackguards I shipped at Ostend
managed to set her on fire, just at the end of that gale.
They were too drunk to help to save her, and we took to the
boats. The brig burned to the water's edge, and then sank."
"You were all picked up, I hope?" asked the duke
mechanically.
" Yes, your honour. The Jioyal Mary sighted us the next
morning. Been driven out of her course by the gale. Landed
the Dutchmen at Texel, and brought me on to Deal. Lvine
there now=" ^
"A curious and fortunate coincidence," commented the
duke, for the sake of saying something.
H Ikent Squire 237
There was a sound of voices in the hall, and Godolphin
burst into the room. He looked impatiently at Kermode, and
Marlborough signed to the captain to leave them
"Well?" exclaimed the duke, as the door closed upon
Kermode. *^
" My dear friend, all is over— they have undone us.
queen has created twelve new Tory peers."
The
mented the
CHAPTER XXXI
NEW year's eve at WRAV COTTAGE
The news of the fall of the great duke of Marlborough, and
of the coup d'etat which accompanied it, travelled far and
wide, and on the eve of the New Year it reached Wray
Cottage. The bearer of the intelligence was Mr. Peter
Wrottesley, a solicitor of Canterbury, who was legal adviser
to squire Wray, and by consequence to madam Rostherne.
During the last few years he had also acted as agent for the
1 hornhaugh estate.
The lawyer was a little bullet-headed, round-paunched
gentleman of about fifty years of age, with a twinkling eye
and an expertness in retailing a joke which went a long wav
towards reconciling his clients to his bills of costs. He had
known Gwynett from childhood, was a staunch admirer of
Muriel Dornngton, and had lost no opportunity of pooh-poohing;
the prejudices entertained by the dame and the squire against
her engagement to the young owner of Thornhaugh
He had come down from Canterbury to bring madam
Rostherne certain business documents requiring her signature,
the delay attending this having prevented the dame and he^
niece accompanying the squire's party to Dorrington Hall,
as had been previously arranged. The business was now
completed, and the old lady's signatures had been affixed and
attested. She had just gone into the village to make final calls
upon certain of her proteges, in view of her departure with
her niece next day in the wake of the Wray household to
London and the west.
The lawyer stood in the porch of the house with Muriel,
wmc;ning me iasi gleams of the afterglow. As soon as the
dames grenadier-Hke form had disappeared down the lane
he asked.
f?f
If
H '
' I
■i 1 }
f:
i«( >!
n'^
11
238
a Iftent Squire
" Have you heard anything lately from somebody we know
in Paris, my dear ? "
" Not for three weeks," replied Muriel,
" Had Ambrose met with any success?"
•' Not up to that time."
" It is a long while ago," mused the lawyer. " It is almost
a pity the matter was mooted at all. I am afraid, my dear,
you will only be disappointed by a failure, whereas if things
had been left alone "
" Anything is better than uncertainty, dear Mr. Wrottesley."
" If Ambrose discovers nothing, you will be no more certain
than you were before."
At this moment the young lady gave a little cry, and shot
past the lawyer like an arrow from a bow. The worthy
gentleman's balance was disturbed, and he forthwith found
himself sitting half-buried in the low box-hedge, of a century's
growth, which bordered the curved path to the gate. When
he looked up, Muriel was hanging round the neck of a tall
young fellow who had approached unheard, and in whom he
recognised Ambrose Gwynett.
" Don't mind me, my dear boy," he remarked, as he sat
with his nose between his knees. " Only if I am de trop, you
must give me your hand a moment. I never expected mistress
Muriel would throw an old friend over in this fashion."
Gwynett came forward laughing, helped the lawyer to his
feet, and shook hands with him very heartily.
" I take my share of the blame," he said. " I should have
heralded my arrival with a flourish of trumpets. But it is
rather late to find you so far abroad— there is nothing wrong,
I hope, about madam Rostherne ? "
" Bless your soul ! no— except that you will get your head
bitten off as usual, despite all my blandishments."
" I need not tell you Mr. Wrottesley has always taken your
part, Ambrose," said Muriel, as she stood clasping Gwynett's
arm with both her hands. " But aunt's bitterness against you
seems as vigorous as ever."
'• You will have to answer for all lord Oxford's sins as
well as your own to-night," remarked the lawyer. "Muriel
will tell you all the news. But as to your quest— any
result ? "
"None, I am sorry to say. I begin to doubt very much
whether Mr. Dorrington went to France at all"
" It was a very off-chance. When did you part company
with your uncle, baron von Starhemberg ? "
ody we know
' It is almost
lid, my dear,
teas if things
Wrottesley."
more certain
cry, and shot
The worthy
thwith found
f a century's
gate. When
eck of a tall
in whom he
d, as he sat
de trap, you
:ted mistress
ion."
jwyer to his
should have
!. But it is
thing wrong,
t your head
taken your
ig Gwynett's
against you
rd's sins as
r, " Muriel
quest — any
very much
rt company
a Ikent Squire 239
"About fifteen months ago. He was very well, and spoke
of you when I left him." ^
" I haven't seen him for twenty years— he was over here
heTookeaT' " '™'- ^ '^^^'^^^^Y tough customer
"You would find him a good deal changed. But we are
said to be very much alike." ^
" Probably-from what I recollect of him. But I must be
off-my horses have been ready an hour at the 'Red Lion'
ahead?' €^0^' "*^' ^""^ ^'"'"S -^ cooing too long
fS^" ^^} "^^ ""^ ? '°°" ^^ yo" a'-e at leisure, Ambrose-
hcZ'/' '1-rf '" Pl°' °" '^'^ °^her side of Thornhaugh
home farm likely to be in the market soon, and it micht
suit^you to tack it on to the property. ' Good-bye ty
The lawyer went off through the gathering eloom and fh,.
lovers entered the Cottage. ^ ^ ' *^^
After half an hour's conversation, during which the nitrhi
t^X^l^J'T r ^"^ ''^' his'departu'rJ coVratulaS
deTayed. '"'"'" ^"""^ ^""" '° conveniently
rr.^'hr.^^''^- ^^ ^''- '° ^^^J ^°'"'g^*' Sweetheart," he said, "and
my horse is waiting at the little tavern here. I heard when
anding at Dover that lord Oxford is expected at Del"
to-morrow on seme Cinoue Ports business, and I have an
Lone ont f'T ^'"T '' '™- ^^^^^-^^^ ^ shouM have
gone on to London for that purpose "
<^t"jnhntf ^^ •» London ourselves to-morrow night, at Mr.
bt. John s, leaving the morning after " b . «*i
we'caf tr^p"! "f'r.^^ ^ ^°"'^ ''' ^^^^ ^^ "^"^^ do what
bourse?" Dornngton. Noel will be there, of
abom'our" ^^"^•^"^--^he squire is furious just now
"To tell you the truth, sweetheart, I have forgotten mo^^t
of my partisanship, if I ever had any. Only I st^ f Vhink Tt s
SrvTfo ll."^'^'"^"^-^'^ ^^- to'go^HoS^nd^c^
Sg"Lm"into'2p:''^^^^^' °^ ''''''' ^^^ ^-'^^^ -" -d
Murref'-'oTcrat sT 'f'^.'^'^'^', ^adly of late," replied
Whitehall.'' ^^- ^'™^'"' ^"^ °"ce on a scaffold at
ob:e?;ed Gwy'ne" '' «"o\r":"nL? h"' °" ^^^^ ^^ -^'^^'"
vjwyneit. une cannot have everything. By the
I''
M
\ <
P J
240
a fcent Squire
way, I had nearly forgotten a little parcel I have for you —
some odds and ends of Moorish work from Seville."
As Muriel was by no means a young lady with a soul
above jewellery and knicknacks, she promptly lit a little lamp
to examine the contents of the silver cassette which Gwynett
produced from his valise.
" Here is something for madam Rostherne," he added,
unrolling a splendid piece of point lace from the factory
at Alen^on, "if you can manage to prevent the old lady
throwing it on the fire in her first enthusiasm at hearing of
my return. And now, sweetheart, I must say good-bye— if
I miss the moon, I stand a chance of reaching Deal with my
neck broken."
Muriel laid down the trinkets she was trying on, and put
her arms round Gwynett's neck. Her lips were pressed to
his when a pistol-shot was heard, followed by a crash of
window-glass and a loud shout. Muriel flung herself between
Gwynett and the casement, and the plaster fell from the
ceiling in a shower. A second shot was accompanied by the
sounds of a struggle between two persons, and stentorian
curses from one of them. Then a horse was heard to gallop
off, pursued by shouts from the loud-voiced combatant.
Gwynett seized his sword, which he had laid aside with his
cloak, and rushed out of the house.
A man was standing in the roadway looking after a horse-
man who was disappearing round a corner a couple of
hundred yards off. He turned to Gwynett, and said,
" We are too late for the scoundrel. I hope no one is hurt
indoors."
" I think not. But what has happened ?"
•' Well, for one thing I have had my horse stolen," replied
the stranger. " For another, I rather think I have a bullet
in my arm, which was probably intended for you. I shall be
obliged if you will let me have a candle for a minute."
" My dear sir, come indoors."
The stranger followed Gwynett into the parlour of the
Cottage, removed his hat, and bowed to Muriel with much
courtesy. He was a man of great stature, taller if anything
than Gwynett, with very aquiline features, and wearing his
own black hair instead of the prevailing wig of the period.
His outer garment was a roquehmre or greatcoat of the
Ill •.iiv,- aiccrca Ui
nc'.vpfit Krpp.ch
the elbow.
<.,c»-.
iit-iisspi jiittivt
rkfl.
I will ask you to help me off with this coat," he said -^
U ikcnt Squire
341
Gwynett, feeling his right elbow. " Perhaps this young lady
had better amuse herself with those pretty things on the
table for a couple of minutes," he added significantly.
"I beg your pardon, sir," replied Muriel promptly, "but
you are quite mistaken. If you are wounded, it is quite
as much my affair as— as anyone else's. One does not hunt
and shoot without meeting with accidents, or knowing how
to deal with them."
" All the better, madam," said the stranger. Gwynett and
Muriel pulled his roquelaure cff. The coat underneath
showed blood-stains, and on removing it a profuse htemorrhage
was seen to be flowing from a shot-wound above the right
elbow, which had evidently divided a small artery. The
shirt was promply cut away and the arm bandaged tightly
above the wound. The bullet had passed through the flesh
of the outer side of the arm and was of course not to be
found. The wound was first bathed and then dressed, in
a rapid but effective fashion. While this was being done,
the stranger recounted his share in the occurrence which had
led to it.
"I may explain, madam," he said, " that I landed at
Greenwich early this morning from abroad. Having called
at ^Vlll's Coffee-house in Covent Garden, I rode down to
Wray Manor, close to this place, where I expected to find
an old friend of mine, squire Wray. He may probably be
known to you."
"Very intimately," said Muriel. "But he has gone to
London, on his way to Devonshire."
"So I heard at the lodge. Deciding to go on to Deal,
where I have another call to make, I found myself rather
at a loss at the cross-roads close to this house. Seeing a
light here, I hitched my horse to the paling, and walked up
to your door to ask my way. I suppose I must have walked
quietly, for I surprised a man just outside your little window
m the act of levelling a pistol at someone in the room. I
sprang upon him, and shouted at the same time to disturb
his aim."
•^ We heard that," said Gwynett, " but nothing before."
I was too late to prevent the weapon being discharged.
Ihen he turned upon me, and before I could snatch the
pistol ^he had fired the second barrel point-blank. I closed
wit.. .,:m, out he succeeded in fiecing himself, and rushed
out into the lane. I tripped over one of your bushes, and
"my horse, flung
16
jusi as you came out the fellow reached
I
Vl
m
242
B Ikeut Sauire
himself on its back, and galloped off. That is all I know
about it."
" It appears incredible," said Muriel.
" I don't understand it in the least," added Gwynett.
"You seem to have rather spiteful neighbours here,"
remarked the stranger.
•' Impossible," said Muriel. " There is no one who has
the slightest grudge against us."
"Some tramp, perhaps."
"A tramp might beg," replied Gwynett. "But why fire
before begging ? "
At this point Muriel left the room with the basin and
sponge she had been using.
" May I ask, sir, if the young lady is your wife ? " inquired
the stranger, who had not been able to get a clear view of
Muriel's left hand.
" Not yet," replied Gwynett, smiling.
" Does that fact suggest anything to you ? "
"Scarcely. I have been away from England a couple of
years, and only landed last night at Dover. I know of no
one who would consider my presence a grievance."
"It would be well for you to find out, it seems to me.
But I must try and continue my journey, if I can get some
horse in the village. I thank you and your fiancee~\{ I may
assume that much — very much for your assistance."
" It is we who are in your debt, sir — probably for our lives.
May I take the liberty of asking your name ? "
The stranger hesitated, and looked apologetically at Muriel,
who entered with wine for the two guests.
"Perhaps you will excuse me," he said. "My presence
in England requires me to exercise a certain amount of
discretion, and just at the moment I am not desirous of being
too much in evidence. At the same time I may assure you
I am a person of passable respectability, and I shall be
delighted later on to introduce myself in proper form through
our mutual friend at the Manor."
"It will give us great pleasure," said Gwynett, bowing.
" But as to your journey, I am afraid you will not be able
to get a horse in the village. Did I understand you were
bound for Deal?"
. '!y^^' •^^''^"g squire Wray, I wish to see some friends
at Deal as soon as I conveniently can."
" I have myself business there in the morning, and was
just starting when this contretemps occurred. If you would
is all I know
Arynett.
hbours here,"
one who has
'But why fire
the basin and
ife ? " inquired
. clear view of
i a couple of
[ know of no
;."
seems to me.
can get some
ncee~i{ I may
e."
for our Hves.
illy at Muriel,
My presence
n amount of
rous of being
ay assure you
i I shall be
form through
nett, bowing.
not be able
nd you were
some friends
ng, and was
.{ you would
a Ikent Squire 243
care to walk and ride alternately with me, we shall reach
Deal before the taverns close for the night. It is only eight
miles off." °
" That will not incommode you, I hope ? "
" Not at all. In fact, until the moon rises, one can walk
almost as fast as it is safe to ride. We have some very rough
tracks to take for nearly five miles. I am quite at your
service if you are ready to start."
Muriel offered wine to the two gentlemen. They touched
glasses, and the stranger bowed to Muriel.
"I drink to your happiness, madam. Permit me to say
that you remmd me most curiously of one very dear to
me, and whom I have not seen for more years than you
yourself can number. I trust some day to make your better
acquaintance."
The stranger made an attempt to put on his greatcoat
assisted by Gwynett. But the tight sleeve of the ro^ue/aure
seemed to find an obstacle in the bulging mass of the bandage
I am afraid you will find this a little uncomfortable," said
Gwynett. " We are pretty much of a size. Will you take
my loose cloak as far as Deal, and I will wear your great-
"I thank you— it will certainly ease my arm, which is
oeginning to burn like fury. Luckily I remember a good
surgeon m the town. Madam, I wish you a very good night "
Muriel curtsied, and the stranger rather tactfully went out
m advance of Gwynett.
" Be careful, dear," whispered Muriel, as she put up her
face to receive Gwynett's kiss. " If that was not some drunken
poacher or a madman, you must have some enemy— it seems
such an incredible thing to happen to either of us "
" I could have understood it at Ste. Marie Geneste," replied
Gwynett, but not here. Adieu, sweetheart."
He rejoined the stranger, and they walked to the villaee
avern, where Gwynett's horse had been put up. On the way
they passed dame Rostherne, escorted by her serving-maid
with a lantern, and returning to the Cottage. Gwynett stopped
the old lady, who received him with more than usual stiffness,
while he explained what had occurred durine her absence.
Ihe stranger in the meantime walked slowly on
I am very thankful, Mr. Gwvnett." rem;.rL-Pd th^ ^ojj,^
iw^'T ^'^ ^^^""'^^ ^^^ ^^"^g^ for' a time. ResT assured
that I have not altered my mind in the least. When we
return, the less we see of you the better, unless you can
244
H Ikcnt Squire
I I
■f
arrange matters a little more comfortably. I have the honour
to wish you good evening."
The good dame's evident implication was that Gwynett
had arranged to be shot at out of malice prepense. As this
was quite in keeping with her usual attitude of mind towards
him, he contented himself with bidding her farewell, and
rejoined his companion.
The tavern was close at hand, and the stranger having
mounted Gwynett's horse, the two men set off on their way
to Deal. For the first hour the darkness of the night and the
roughness of the road made progress rather slow. Then
the moon rose, a good road was entered upon, and the rate
of travel was only limited by the speed of the pedestrian.
Four or five miles out of Wray, cross-roads were en-
countered which went off to the right and left in the directions
of Dover and Sandwich. A few yards down the former of
these a horse was grazing by the roadside in the moonlight.
" That looks like my horse," remarked the stranger, who
happened to be on foot at the time. He went up to the
animal and found that he was correct.
" It seems as if your friend of the pistol were in front of us
somewhere," he said, coming back to Gwynett. " Evidently
he is not a mere horse-thief."
"That road goes to Dover. Probably the fellow turned
off in that direction on foot, in order not to be found with a
stolen horse."
" As I only hired the beast, it is just as well I have found
him again," said the stranger, getting into the saddle. " Now
we shall be able to make headway, though I am rather out
of training on horseback."
"It is lucky the night is clear and dry. The fog in the
Channel seems to have cleared off," said Gwynett, pointing to
the south-east. " That is the sea."
" We must have landed in Lngland about the same time,"
commented the stranger. " The fog was just thickening when
I came on shore. Have you been much of a traveller? "
" In this case I was only crossing from France," replied
Gwynett. "I should have made the passage two or three
days earlier, but for being detained in Calais while I was
trying to help the authorities in connection with an attempted
robbery."
" I used to make the passage often enough, years ago," said
the stranger. Then he added, as if some train of thought had
been revived by the reminiscence,
the honour
at Gwynett
56. As this
ind towards
irewell, and
iger having
n their way
ght and the
ow. Then
nd the rate
strian.
s were en-
le directions
3 former of
Donlight.
ranger, who
t up to the
front of us
" Evidently
How turned
3und with a
have found
ile. " Now
1 rather out
fog in the
pointing to
same time,"
:ening when
Her?"
ce," replied
wo or three
rhile I was
1 attempted
s ago," said
:hought had
a Ikent Squire 245
"Pardon me for wha> may appear an impertinent remark,
but the face of your companion at the Cottage has been
dwelling in my mind ever since we bade her adieu. It is a little
unreasonable to ask for information which I have myself
declined to give "
Gwynett at once anticipated the stranger's intended inquiry.
"There is no reason, my dear sir," he said, "why you
she. 'J not know the persons whom you have laid under
such an obligation. My own name is Ambrose Gwynett, of
Thornhaugh, at your service, and "
" Ambrose Gwynett ! " ejaculated the stranger. " May I
ask,^ sir, if you were lately in France, inquiring after "
The stranger hesitated and left his question unfinished.
" After a Mr. Randolph Dorrington," replied Gwynett.
The stranger looked at him for a moment without speaking.
" I am Randolph Dorrington," he said finally.
Gwynett stopped as if thunderstruck.
" Good heavens ! " he cried. " Why did you not say so at
the Cottage ? "
II Why at the Cottage ? " asked Dorrington.
"Because that was your daughter Muriel whom you saw
there."
II My daughter ? " said Dorrington, in a puzzled tone.
" Born after your strange disappearance seventeen or
eighteen years ago."
" And her mother ? "
" She died soon after, I regret to say."
Dorrington was silent for several seconds.
T u I ^T^^ i^ ^^"^"^ ^^ '°'" ^^ s^'^ ' " a"d yet, till you spoke,
I had cherished some hope. She was a good wife— heaveri
rest her soul I It was her face I saw in the child."
" Think sir, that you have still a daughter who loves you
most dearly, without knowing you. It was her afi-ectionate
concern that sent me to seek news of you in France "
Dorrington's face lighted up.
the'Bi'tine"^^^^ ""^^ ^''* ^ ^^^ ^ ^^""^ ""^^ '°^' everything in
"The Bastille?"
" Yes. I will tell you my story when we are more at leisure,
liut IS It too late to return to the Cottage ? "
Gwynett looked at his watch.
hJhh ^"l^^""^'^ ^°- ,^Ve are close to Deal now-those are the
hghts. We can go back the first thing in the morning. But
did you not recognise madam Rostherne ? "
246
H 1?ent Squivc
\ I
; ' m
i
1 ,
"Who is madam Rosib me?"
" Muriel' ; aunt — your sister. We passed her in the r -ad."
" Unf' rtunately I took no notice. My sister must have
married since my departure from England. The name is new
to me."
"Do you know I ^al?" asked ^jwynett, as they rode into
the town.
"A Httle. 'i'here is a passable tavern — or used to be —
close to the waterside and the jetty. If you iiave no better
idea, we will put up there for the night — the sooner the
better, for I feel raindrops."
" I jcnow the place," replied Gwynett.
" A/>ropos, let me suggest that, for a day or two, we drop
the name of Dorrington — I will give my reasons when I tell
you my story."
"What shall I call you?"
" Richard Collins will serve for a name. And now for the
' Crown and Anchor ' and a bowl of punch."
:',■
I I
CHAPTER XXXII
NEW year's eve at THE * CROWN AND ANCHOR '
The parlour of the ' Crown and Anchor' was a toulw of con-
siderable size which had once been two, as was evidenced by
the heavy cross-beam in the ceiling, the greater width of one
portion of the apartment, and the pair of vast fireplaces. At
the smaller of the two ends of the rooms, captain Kermode
was sitting with the three younger of his half-brothers round
a small table. All were smoking vigorously, and steaming
glasses of grog were on the board before them. A short,
active-looking woman of middle age, with a piercing eye and
strident voice, was just leaving the party with a bunch of
keys in her hand. The half-brothers looked after her with a
dubious air as she disappeared through one of the doors.
" Well," said the captain, in continuation of some previous
narrative, "when I went back to the room where the duke
was sitting, he looked dumbfounded. I asked if he had any
more commands for me, and he just waved his hand and says
in a kind of choky voice — * Another time, captain — another
time.' So then I came away."
" And no questions asked ? " inquired Luke,
s
B 'Kent Squire
847
her. ad."
must have
ime is new
f rode into
;d to be —
2 no better
jOOHLr the
), we drop
ivhen I tell
ow for the
lOR '
Jin of con-
idenced by
ith of one
ilaces. At
Kermode
lers round
i steaming
A short,
ig eye and
bunch of
her with a
•ors.
e previous
the duke
e had any
i and says
i — another
"No more than I tell you."
'• That's a blessed igood job," said Luke, in a relieved tone.
"I can tell you I've been m a mortal funk ever since you
•^farted off for London. '
Mi's well that ends v ' uuserved the capuun. "Now,
what's this about Matt?"
Luke looked at his broths Mark, who nodded back to him
to tell his tale. He lowered his voice to a hoar, whisper,
and said,
"Well, brother Kit, the fact is— you saw the landlady just
now?" and he jerked his 'lead in t!ie direction taken by the
retiring hostess.
" What of her ? "
" She's got a little parlour — very snug."
"Well?"
•here every day — all day."
V
" Matt's there.
"The blazes!"
"She's at him.
The captain's jaw
" That's bad news.
pped at this intelligence.
he said, with a tremor in his voice.
"How does Matt take it?"
" Seems kind of satisfied," said Luke.
" Why didn't you take care of him ? " asked the captain
reproachfully. "It's awful. She'd talk the leg off an
iron pot."
" Easy," assented Luke, replenishing his tumbler.
"Is he going to ask her?"
" Mayhap— if she doesn't ask him first."
"And live ashore in this bunk?"
"Expect so."
" It'll break up the family," said the captain pathetically,
after a pause. " We must get him aboard, and weigh anchor
for Portsmouth."
" Matt's hard to drive, brother Kit."
" A scarecrow in a beanfield would have had more sense,"
growled the captain angrily ; " and after such a stroke of luck
as the brig "
"Hush! for Old Nick's sake keep a quiet tongue about
that, brother Kit," said Luke, in an alarmed whisper.
"Make >our mind easy, brother Luke. Hallo I here's
Matt."
The eldest brother made his appearance at this moment,
and approached the party with rather a hang-dog expression
of countenance. The captain eyed him in reproachful silence.
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a ment Squire
P :i
"Well, brother Kit," said the newcomer, as he shambled
up, how have you fared ? "
"I haven't made a clam-headed idiot of myself, for one
thmg,' responded the captain severely. «'If yiuVe not
regularly moored in that parlour, we'll get aboard."
"That's it," acquiesced Matt unexpectedly. "Fact is w<«
had better show our heels for a day or two "
"Why?" ^
" D'ye recollect the Mermaid, at the Hague ? "
" Of course."
J'^^u\u^ the town there," said Matt, pointing seawards
a^ZfJl^ Tf"""-- "^^^ ^^P^^^" ^^' J"«t befn ordered
ofif to the North American station, and he's raging mad about
It. Expected an easy time in port for a spell '*
" What's that to do with us ? "
9.ni^^V^°'*'^?"'^^^Ti'f ^ ' ^°'^" °^ the men deserted off
Sandwich, ana he couldn't catch them again. He's got to
Z nnw^ ^^."^'"P^'^y by to-morrow, and there's a preslgang
out now They may make a call here any moment if they
cant get men off the fishing-boats. They' say the captain's
too drunk to look at the law of the matter. He'll get anv
one he can and make sail." ^ ^
This news seriously disturbed the party. The system of
the press-gang, discontinued for several years, had been
nf'fh!^{ P"t agmn >nto operation, and the reckless disregard
of the legal limitations to the impressment of sea-faring men
was a matter of notoriety. In fact, the gangs were ly nS
rneans m the habit of confining their attentions to saikfrsTf
they came across a big and strong landsman who looked at
all capable of being rope's-ended into heavy deck-work on one
of her majesty's ships. A landsman kidnapped under the^e
conditions and shipped for a two or three years' cruise rnS
await release for the whole of the voyage if the ship happened
to touch at no British possession near home. Thus there
arose a pretty universal system of passing round warning if
a press-gang were known to be on shore in a district. ^
Where's their boat ? " asked the captain.
" Landed quietly a mile towards Dover. The ostler's boy
happened to see them, and ran on." ^
" Is ours at the jetty ? "
"Yes."
....oarv. we go," said the captain. "Pay the scorp ViaH
and hurry after us." ^ ^' ^^"'
Matt disappeared by one door, and the rest of the party
a ment Squire
249
le shambled
>elf, for one
you're not
>
' Fact is, we
ig seawards
2en ordered
mad about
deserted off
Se's got to
I press-gang
lent if they
le captain's
e'll get any
' system of
had been
s disregard
faring men
vere by no
o sailors if
' looked at
ork on one
inder these
uise might
> happened
fhus there
warning, if
stier's boy
;ore. Matt,
the party
or
before the
6 Gaultier.
if it
is
by the other, which led to the porch. As they (
passed them, entering the parlour, and took a cl
fire nearest to him. The newcomer was the ;
The potboy came after him for orders.
" Can I sleep here to-night ? " asked the abbd.
" Yes, sir."
"I'll have some supper. Let me see my room,
ready."
" I'll tell the landlady, sir."
At the potboy's summons the hostess appeared, and led
the abb^ off to a room upstairs, while a serving-wench began
to lay one of the tables for supper.
Five minutes afterwards the clatter of hoofs in the street
was heard, and a couple of horsemen pulled up before the
tavern. There was a little discussion at the porch, and one
of the riders went off to the stables with the two horses. The
other, who was Ambrose Gwynett, came into the parlour just
as a shower of rain, which had been threatening for some
time, began to fall with considerable violence.
" You are just in time, sir," said the girl who was laying
Gaultier s supper.
" It seems so," said Gwynett. « I suppose you can give us
a couple of beds ? " ^ &
" There is only one bed left, sir," said the girl. " It is in
this room."
She went to a door at the smaller end of the room, approached
oy two steps in the thickness of the doorway, and opened it.
Within was a small room, hardly larger than a closet, contain-
ing a bed of moderate size, but luckily of sufficient length.
It will be a tight fit," said Ambrose, after a minute's
inspection, " but it will serve. Let us have some supper at
this other table as soon as you can."
At this moment Dorrington entered from the porch, his
cloak glistening with wet.
"I have seen to our beasts," he said. "It is a perfect
deluge outside— you got indoors not a minute too soon I
beg your pardon."
This was said to Gaultier, who came in b^ the side door in
front of which Dorrington happened to be standing. Gaultier
bowed without looking at the speaker, and was going to his
seat at his own table when he caught cmh^ r.f r':„,„p7^^^ ^^^
stopped short as if turned to stone. His^ eye 'next 'fdl upon
Dorrington, and he went a little pale.
Dorrington and Gwynett glanced slightly at him, and then
' • i:
'In 13
vr-j
; I
1
. 1
250
a ment Squire
moved to the fire at their end of the room. The abb^, after
a momentary pause, went to his table and seated himself.'
'• That was a near thing," he said to himself, recovering his
composure. "Evidently they suspect nothing. Bu: wimt
brmgs them here ? Is it my good luck returning ? "
Gwynett took the cloak from Dorrington's shoulders, and
spread it over a large chair in front of the log fire.
"It will be dry before morning," he said, removing his
roquelaure, and displaying his valise slung from his shoulders
by a strap.
The landlady came in, and confirmed the se-vant's offer of
the little room ?.t the end of the parlour. Gwynett accordingly
took the greatcoat and valise within, and hung thern up. The
abbe watched all this out of the corner of his eye, and
lamented his own shortcomings with much humility.
" I have muddled matters like an idiot," he said to himself.
"I suppose this is the fellow who spoiled my shot— curse
him ! One deserves to lose the whole game by such bungling.
Why couldn't I wait till this Ambrose Gwynett was comfortably
outside in the dark, with no one to interfere ? "
He commenced his supper, and kept an eye on the other
table, at which Gwynett and Dorrington were conversing in
tones sufficiently low to prevent any complete sentences
reaching the abba's ear. In the meantime the rain ceased,
and the moon shone forth brightly. The night was mild, and
almost warm, although the wind was rising.
" I must really have lost my head about that girl," mused
tne abbd. " I haven't had such a feeling for twenty years as
came over m.e when I saw those arms of hers round his neck,
her breast pressed against his, and her eyes— perdition ! ''
The abbd nearly choked over his wine at the reminiscence,
and his fingers closed round his knife with a clutch that
whitened the knuckles.
" I mustn't miss this next coup,'' he v on to himseif.
"No one could expect to get two such chmces. If this
gossip about lord Oxford coming here is correct, it will be
fatal if I haven't secured the letter before morning. Triple
ass that I was to let my cursed sentimentality set my fingers
itching just at the wrong time ! '-
While the abb^ was deploring his misplaced tenderhearted-
ness, the pair at the other table were finishing their supper
and preparing to smoke, Dorrington rose to use the cinder-
tongs (an article which for more than a century and a quarter
afterwards continued to supply the place of the modern
a Ikent Squire
25 1
2 abbd, after
limself.
covering his
Bu:, wiiat
g?"
aulders, and
emoving his
is shoulders
int's offer of
accordingly
:a up. The
is eye, and
lity.
i to himself.
shot — curse
:h bungling.
comfortably
n the other
•nversing in
sentences
■ain ceased,
LS mild, and
jirl," mused
ity years as
d his neck,
perdition ! "
miniscence,
clutch that
to himself,
s. If this
, it v;ill be
ng. Triple
my fingers
derhearted-
leir supper
the cinder-
1 a quarter
le modern
fusee-box), and looked out of the window before resuming his
seat. The potboy brought in a bowl of punch which had
been ordered.
"People sit up late hereabouts," remarked Dorrington.
" There is a light in almost every house in the street."
" New Year's Eve, master," explained the potboy, grinning.
" Seeing Old Year out and New Year in."
" Of course — I forgot that," said Dorrington. " I think I
hear the glee-singers."
A faint sound of some part-music came down the street,
which presently became louder as the vocalists took up their
station outside the tavern.
" Ask them in," said Dorrington to the potboy. " This is
a pretty custom," he went on to Gwynett. " I am glad they
hold to it still."
The glee-singers trooped in, eight in number, and went
through some madrigals with the precision and tunefulness
now only heard amongst Welsh quarrymen and miners, but
which was common in EnglaniJ during the two centuries
preceding the date of our story. The. landlady and some of
the tavern servants stood within the doors to listen, and
added their share to the applause when .he performance w?s
over. Dorrington called to the landlady.
" Hostess," said he, bringing out his purse, " provide a
bowl of punch for them if they like it, and ask them to
accept a half crown each (win me. Perhaps you will give
me change."
He opened his purse under the eyes of the hostess, who
looked rather sharply at it with the air of a person who had
been victimised by this sort of generosity more than once.
The purse was of fine knitted red silk, with two unusually
handsome slide-rings of chased gold, which removed a good
deal of the landlady's suspicion. Dorrington looked through
the coins at both ends without finding any English gold, and
finally tendeied a couple of louis d'or to the hostess.
" I do not seem to have a guinea," he said. " But these
are worth seventeen shillings apiece, as I daresay you know."
The landlady shook her head.
" We don't take foreign money," she said. " Folks say it
was never as good as it ought to be, and that it's getting worse."
Gwynett pulled a handful of coin out of his pocket
" Here is a guinea," he said to Dorrington.
Dorrington passed it to the landlady, who changed it and
distributed the silver amongst the glee-singers. The latter
!
, !!
J t
1 , !
i
i ■
i
i\
1
hit
«S2
a "Rent Sciuire
took their departure in great good humour, and the room
emptied again. « <■ c luom
"That is rather a nuisance," said Dorrington, within hearing
of the abb^ " But it is my own fault, f got a 11 tt e S sh
money at Gravesend, intending to change the rest at Wi 's
and I quite forgot to do so." '
"I had better do it for you now, as I am going back to
town. How much do you want?" ^ "acK to
• ^^"lljf "^ listened to all this without appearing to be interested
itth7woo1fir"i '" '''' ^"' ^'^ "'^'°^' ^^ ^-^« ^°Sng
"I have about a score of louis here," said Dorrineton
begmnmg to count. ''Twenty-one," he said finaUy pS '
feHow^"'"' """"' '° ^^^"'"- "^°""* yourself, ^myS
"I can give you guineas and change for that much " said
Gwynett, pushing the equivalent sum across the table, and
taking up the purse. ' ^
" Keep the purse, or give it to my daughter," said Dorring-
ton, noticing that Gwynett was examhiing it with sorfe
merest. /'There is a little story attached ?o it, which ^u
interest both of you when you hear it "
i.ol^'^^ pleasure," said Gwynett. He handed his own
leather pouch over to Dorrington, empty, and having put the
balance of his money into the red silk purse he depo i ed
the latter in his breeches pocket. '^p^^aiiea
"I am scarcely disposed to follow the example of our
nends the watchers to-night," remarked Dorringrotyawn^ng
sleepily «« If you care to see the Old Year out mv dea?
fellow, do so. For myself, the New Year must acZt my
am dead tiVedT'''"' "'"^''"" '' '' "°^ '''''^ y^^' - "^
at^icHf you'^lL""''" "^' ''^^^"^"- "^^ ^- ^"- -
stre;che7geSre the' fire.' "^"^ '' '''' ^'^ ^'°^^ ^^'^^ -«
"Call us at seven," he said to the potboy, "and ask th^
cook to let this hang before the kitchen fire during the nigh '
Let us have our candles." ^ ^
" Yes, sir."
"By the way." asked Dorrington, "is master Walton, the
surgeon and apothecary, still at hi<: oH ».o,,co ^..„> .u„_- V'„
Ves, sir. But his son does most of the work now
Theyve got a little party to-night," added the potboy conl
a Ikent Squire
253
fidentially, as he pointed through the window to a red h'ght
appearing amongst others at a house close to the jetty.
"Will you have your arm dressed again to-night?" asked
Gwynett.
'* No — I think it will serve till morning. I do not feel very
uncomfortable, and master Walton, junior, may be too jolly
just now to handle it discreetly. Let us get to bed."
The potboy brought candles, and went off with the cloak,
while the two friends entered the little room and shut the door.
Gauitier heard the bolt shot into its son' -t, and cursed
quietly to himself.
CHAPTER XXXIII
THE ABBE IS VISITED BV AN INSPIRATION
The abb^ remained before the fire, his hands buried in his
pockets, and i..s legs stretched out towards the hearth. He
racked his brains for some scheme to get at Gwynett's pockets
before his departure to meet lord Oxford in the morning, and
again execrated his precipitancy in sacrificing the unique
opportunity he had been afforded when he followed Gwynett
to Wray Cottage. The principal stumbling-block now was
of course the bolted door, which prevented him entering the
little room after its inmates were fast asleep, in order to steal
lady Melfort's letter under cover of the darkness. It was
necessary that the door should be opened again from the
inside either by Gwynett or his companion, as the little window
of the room was closely barred, and so far as he could judge
actually overhung the sea when the tide was in. The most
feasible plan to secure this advantage seemed to be to wait
till all was quiet in the house, and then raise an alarm of fire.
The abb^ put a fresh log on the hearth, and proceeded to
speculate on the details of an impromptu conflagration.
There was very little about the parlour itself that could be
made to break out into a notable kind of blaze within any
reasonable space of time. The window-curtains were certainly
inflammable enough, but their burning would be altogether
too slight an affair for his purpose. The oak furniture, floor,
and wainscoting of the parlour were of the most massive
character, as hard as iron, and would take a long time to set
on fire. He could not remain in the room with any plausibility
3
n
P^B^FI
i
■■ 1
If
ll I
aS4
H ikent Squire
after the household should have retired, as they were alreaHv
He could of course do what he liked in his own room h„.
Lr ff teit rs '"" !'' "°""' ^^- to™ amri'
ncf^.1 fu ^ " .^'^^ P^''^°"f '"Stead of making himself
'f''nV^n>T''^ °f the proposed disaster. ^ ''^^
.K • .f'^'^ > remarked to himself, as he rose from his
chair "p^re Germont's stock-in-trade would be enormously
useful here just now. And there are no wells to bunTe wth'
He strolled off to his own room, in the vague hone of
findmg some suitable locality for a bla/p in fhl ^^
S;^nis^^b:fit^s.---t^^^
cogitation and no alternative plan of any value suggested ifself
U^'. ^r f "P' ^"^ ^^^'^^^ °"t °f the windoT
His eye fell upon six or eight sailors, under a boatswain
who were stepping out of a sWp's boat just being secu Jd to
the side of the jetty. Across the sea, in a broad streak of
silver from the reflection of the moon, a war-ship rode ^t
anchor. The sailors looked cautiously about ?hem and then
walked off into the shadow of the over-hanging bakonv of
two or three houses close to the jetty. One of these was^h/
surg^eon and apothecary's. Aftei th'is Gau^r/r tsTsTght' of
"Those fellows are after no good, one would sav " h.
thought. "Evidently they come frLx theT^rj^^ ouTt'here
They look sober, too, which is a shockingly bad sign for tar "
struck him ^ulr/ '^ """^^^■^' ^'^ suddef ttugh
struck him, it IS a press-gang, without doubt. SomethincJ
was said about it by those fishermen in the taproom rn
give them warning. They may just as weU thfnk I'm an
• tu t!^.is^,"^ome"t Gaultier fancied he heard a slight movement
m the httle room, and he returned to his seat at the fiJe The
bolt was qiiiptiv nnf hopu ti-~ -1--.. ^ "i- "ic inc. ine
c^me nut '{j7 h.A i ' ,f opened, and Dorrington
came out. He had only removed his coat, boots and wiiS
coat before lying down. The two latter had evidently jus^^^
a ikent Sdutre
»5S
were already
he might be
n room, but
frame some
«ng himself
se from his
enormously
bungle with
;ue hope of
ie passages
::ame under
lust set his
er resource
irly to take
>arlour and
r passed in
jested itself
boatswain,
secured to
d streak of
ip rode at
, and then
balcony of
se was the
5t sight of
1 say," he
out there.
;n for tars
^ thought
Something
oom. I'll
k I'm an
ject is no
novement
ire. The
'orrington
ind waist-
-ntly just
been put on again, while he carried the coat on his left arm,
and held the right one away from his side. The linen
bandage round '.t was saturated with wet blood, and the
haemorrhage was sufficiently profuse to fall in rapid drops
upon the floor.
" The deuce ! " he said half aloud, as he came near the
light, " this is worse than I thought."
" What have you there ? " inquired Gaultier.
" A shot-wound, sir. But I thought ic was better secured :
I am bleeding like a stuck pig. Unfortunately some blood
must have gone over my companion, for I found this arm
against his chest when I awoke a minute ago."
" Can I do anything for you ? " asked Gaultier, almost
forgiving his marplot out of gratitude to him for unbolting
the door.
" I should be extremely obliged if you would cut my left
shirt-sleeve off, and make a temporary bandage round my
damaged arm. I must go over at once to the surgeon yonder,
and get it dressed. I was a fool not to go before."
" I am quite at your service," replied Gaultier.
The abbd took out his knife, cut off Dorrington's left sleeve,
slit it so as to make a strip of double length, and began to
place it over the old bandage.
" Wait a moment," said Dorrington. " If you will cut away
this saturated linen and let it fall, I think you will be able to
keep your fingers clean. Never mind the floor."
Gaultier did as was suggested. Dorrington had previously
walked past the table so as to place himself more conveniently
for the abb^ to assist him., A copious fall of blood-drops had
marked his track. The bandage was dripping, and made a
little pool where it lay after being cut off. When the wound
was bound round again, Dorrington put on his coat, thanked
the abbd, and left the room on his way to the apothecary's.
No one had come into the parlour, or apr ontly within
hearing, during the interval, and all the hju ,ehold were
evidently joining in the merrymaking in the bar and the
kitchen.
Gaultier's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. It was now
possible to get into the room, and if Gwynett's sleep only
•emained undisturbe-i, a minute would suffice to ransack his
pockets. The ahhe^ -,va3 listening for any sign of movement
when his eye fell u pon the bloodmarks on the floor.
Curse the bl ^od ! " he grumbled. " If any one happens
to come in and ^^tch sight of that at the exact moment I ^m
I
2^6
a Ikciu Squire
t
i
• ''l
' i-l:
i
! i
: '^) '
Sth\?^ wtllteT^?h7h'"H°' ''^ 'i!"^ commission, what
nnV^ff f? ^ T ^^^ bandage at all events had better be
out of the way, and I must put a little sand over the rest "
He took up the str p of linen with the tongs from his own
onlhrflnnp''''.^"'!!'"^ ^"^^^'y' ^"d ''^' about To droH
on^ the flames, when he pauseo and said to himself. ^
If 1 put It here, it will fizz for an hour \nrf nffro^*
aHe„.,o„. The other fire is abou. cold by this "toe" """
He carried the bandage to the other heartli, covered i>
sTif^toTh^e^^^^indoV^^^'^^^^ ''' ^-^^- -^^en'hHt^^ped^
he;i;ougtt^"a^n7t\\nTo:'?r'if"^ ^"^° ''' ^P°^^--^'^'"
, He looked out across the street. A fresh breeze had
rsen, and the waves dashed noisily against the iettv THp
streets were empty, and more lights were to be ieen 'in The
houses. It was a little before the stroke of midnight
Dorrmgton had almost reached the apothecfry's when a
sudden gust of wind blew his hat off. ^As he stooned to
recover it a whistle sounded sharply. Three men ?ush^^
rom the shadow of the houses upon Dorrington flune hfrn
o he ground, and held a coat over his head. gLS
started, and bent forward eagerly 'jauitier
ar:tt^'cS;::p5^ ^^^^- "^^ ^^ ^^^ P--g-g- But where
As he spoke, four other men came running round th^
corner to assist their comrades. Dorrington manS hv
a superhuman effort, to struggle to his flet agab but' the
and iSf ''^ ^'^ T"" ^^^'"S ^''' assailantf His feet
and hands were seized and tied, he was liftpH fr^m fu
ground, and four of the men carried hfm a a tro t^ th^
boat at the jetty. The other three j imped in he oars
tTJXrvlsirn' ''' '''' di-ppearedYeyLd Z tgeTf
The whole episode had passed so rapidly that GanlhVr
cou^d scarcely have reached^he scene, S had he been
he'Xft^tr '''. ''^'''' ^'' P'^^^^ - the boat But
f.P^ii. .• ' u *^^ contrary, grasped the whole situation as
' ' So Z?i' programme in the most gratifying manne
"T^K- ,•?., ^i°.' P^°P'^ ^^° ^'^ a'ways de trop" he thought
♦ Thishttle affair makes all the difference. Now I need not
run any risk by hurrying. It will hP p..v t. ZJ!^ t "1^^ ,"°'
H Ikcnt Squire
257
amission, what
s had better be
• the rest."
i from his own
out to drop it
M,
r, and attract
ime."
th, covered it
-n he stepped
apothecary's,"
1 breeze had
e jetty. The
e seen in the
ight.
Gary's when a
le stooped to
men rushed
•n, flung him
ad. Gaultier
But where
g round the
managed, by
jain, but the
5. His feet
id from the
trot to the
in, the oars
the range of
hat Gaultier
ad he been
: boat. But
situation as
anner.
he thought.
I need not
Davjii, wiien
?t shut that
He stepped slowly and gingerly towards the little room,
listened again to hear if Gwynett had been disturbed by the
recent conversation, and decided that he was fast asleep. He
then closed a..:' latched the door with the greatest precaution
against noise, and returned to his post of observation at the
window. The boat was pulling across the moonlit streak
in which lay the Mermaid, gently rolling with the slight
swell from the Goodwins. It reached the ship's side, and
after a few minutes' delay Gaultier saw it drift to its place
astern.
The streets were still deserted, and no one seemed to have
heard, or at all events to have heeded, the struggle of a few-
minutes before. The moon lit up the open space before the
apothecary's, and a black object rested in the centre. This
was Dorrington's hat, which had been left behind in the
confusion.
A distant church clock struck the first stroke of midnight.
Half a dozen doors opened down the street, and several persons
appeared on the respective thresholds.
AH at once Gaultier, who had been standing near the
window, fell back upon the bench by the wall. His face be-
came suddenly pale, his eyes dilated, and his mouth remained
open for several seconds. His breath came and went in short
gasps, his arms lay outstretched, and the fingers of one hand
worked convulsively.
" A miracle ! " he panted. " A miracle ! and I— I, Armand
Gaultier— only think of it by accident. I am in my dotage
surely ! "
The strokes of midnight rang through the air, and doors
were heard to open in the inner regions of the tavern.
Gaultier bounded from his seat, tore his cravat to ribbons,
dragged his waistcoat open, and pulled his hair over his fore-
head. He snatched up his knife, which still lay open on the
table, and smeared it up to the handle with blood from the
floor. Then he rushed into the front passage, slammed
the outer door to w>h a bang that shook the house, and ran
back agam shoutiiv ,t the top of his voice. Stamping down
the length of the panour he overturned one of the tables with
a tremendous crash, sent a couple of chairs flying against the
wamscot, broke the window with his glass as he passed, and
finally, after throwing his knife on to the floor of Gwynett's
room, shut the door again and leaned against it, yelling,
"Murder! murder! help I murder! help!"
Voices were heard in ^alarm, followed by the sound of
17
m\^
M '
'
L
«L' ■ ..^
as*
U Ikent Squire
hurrying footsteps. A dozen people carrying either impromptu
weapons (. lanterns burst into the room, with the potboy and
the landlady at their head, and assailed the still vociferating
abbe with a torrent of questions.
'• Murder ? " screamed the hostess. " Who's been murdered ? "
" One of the two gentlemen who came here a couple ot
hours ago— the elder." panted the abbd. " But I've cot the
villain safe ! " "
"Who's the murderer? Where is he?" came in a chonis
from the servants and stable-helps.
" The young fellow who was with him. Fetch the watch—
we must not let him escape ! "
" But what has happened ? " asked the landlady, while the
men-servants helped themselves to the fire-irons
brt^miei" ^^^^ ^'^ ^^°'^ '" ^"'"^^ ^'''P^' "^^ '^ exhausted and
"The two went out towards the jetty quarrelling about some
question of money-then the younger man stabbed the other,
and they had a struggle for a moment before the elder fell
1 he young fellow stooped over the other, took something out
of his pockets, carried the body to the end of the jetty and
threw It mto the sea. He got covered with his victim's blood
while doing it."
One of the men here ran out to see if the corpse were still
withm sight.
" Well, go on, sir ! " cried the hostess.
" I had rushed out when the elder man fell, but I slipped
on the wet doorstep. When I reached the jetty, the young
fellow was running back with his shirt dripping blood He
aimed a blow at me with his knife, dodged past me, and tore
aoorr ^ ' ^"^"^ ^'^ ^°^'^' ^^^ ^^^ ^^°°^ °" *^^
" Get out of the road, master," said one of the stablemen
who carried a heavy hammer. " I'll soon break the door in "
At the moment the abbd moved aside from the door' it
suddenly opened, and Gwynett stood in the doorway at the
top of the two steps.
" What is this infernal noise about ? " he asked angrily.
A scream of horror arose from the women.
"Oh! the wretch! the bloodthirsty monster! look at
him ! '' was shrieked in chorus.
.,. . — 1.1^,1, „iinom Knoniuj^ n, a lulcrably gruesome
spectacle. He was dressed merely in his shirt and breeches,
and across his breast was a great stain of wet blood, which
LT impromptu
e potboy and
1 vociferating
I murdered ? "
■ a couple of
: I've got the
e in a chorus
the watch —
dy, while the
Lhausted and
; about some
ed the other,
le elder fell.
>mething out
le jetty, and
ctim's blood
pse were still
ut I slipped
', the young
blood. He
ne, and tore
ood on the
: stablemen,
e door in,"
the door it
)rway at the
angrily.
r ! look at
ly gruesome
d breeches,
lood, which
i
a ikcut Squire 359
ha. extended itself to his right hand and sleeve and the
wais -band of his breeches. Noticing the direction of the
po.nted fingers of the crowd, he glanced down, and for the
hrs time caught sight of his ensanguined garments.
riH of'^K ' ^T •" "■'"'^ f^* ^^^^*^' " '^^'fo^e he has time to get
rid of the stolen money." **
.hM^'^^'fu^^ u'"''". ''^'''^I ^'^y"^" '^y each arm. and the
abbt< thrust his hand eagerly into the left-hand pocket of the
prisoner s breeches. He knew that the purse given by
iJorrmgton ought to be in the other pocket but it was of
1 greater importance to be the first in possession of the
letter to lord Oxford. The pocket, however, was empty.
Turn the other pocket inside out," he said to one of the
men on Gwynett's right. The man d.J so, found the red silk
purse, and threw it on the table with a heavy thud The.
was no letter. ' i"ci.
it IJ^fu- '^ ' " ,^"'^^. V^e landlady. " I saw the poor man take
It out of his pocket with my own eyes "
r.n^°"'''fl^'^^- '""I' ^^^ *^^" '^"'^^ '"s'de there! called out
Gaultier flinging the door wide open in order to see what
Gwynett had done with the other clothes he wore on i^
up?h:a^-srare1 knife'" '^"' ^° ''' '^^'' ^"^ ^^^^^^
hiJ'fi'^t"^ CwVettWacf '^ ""^•" '" '^ ^'^°"^^^' ^^^'''"^
The man who had gone out here returned at a run
he saTd^ " Her?,f/h'?T";' ^S^^ "^'^y' ^' ^'^^ '^ has sunk,"
« ? K 1 !. ^ '' ^ ^^^ ^ ^°""^ ^'ose to the jetty."
It belonged to the poor fellow, no doubt," said Gaultier
feathen" ^"^ ^'^' '"'^ '^' ^""^^^'^y- " ^ recollect't by ihe
been lis'tenlllf tn^^. ^''^"'?' ^' ^''' °"^y half awake, had
oeen nstening to the proceedings n a state of romnlf»/p k«
wilderment, which was not diminished when thrsflknur.:
was brought out of his pocket. P"'^®
" What is all this about ? " he asked at lenafh «« Tc ,u
crpro?p°.V ^'^^ - ^P-k a word^f seVsTf ^vherl^X^
''Tikrh!mt'M?,^"f '^ an hysterical housemaid.
^^^^ lake him to the lock-up till morninrr." rrip.i tu. ^„.k„„
vvcii see ne doesn't break out of thaf "r-^^^ i""" t'-^-?°y
&t:" "= '''^'- p""">8 4-« do'wrvjTeps-r
!
^WHf ' *
': ,
[
;, '\i
j
i
• [f,
I si
1 .
1
i
I
i
piw^
:«
n
L
1
260
a Ikent Squire
Gwynett freed himself from the stableman on his left by
a sudden wr^^nch, knocked the potboy heels-over-head into
the fireplace, and cleared a half-circle around him by one
furious sweep of a Windsor chair, which he picked up and
brandished in the air with both hands.
" By heavens ! " he roared, " I'll brain the first of you that
comes within reach, if you can't speak out. Unless you are
all mad, say what you have to say, and he d d to you ! "
" Oh ! we can say it easy enough," screamed the landlady,
who was entrenched behind the table. " You're a murderer,
and you're going to swing for it ! "
"^yho has been murdered?" asked Gwynett, who had to
use his loudest tones to be heard above the uproar.
" Why, the poor gentleman who was with you, as you know
well enough ; and may his blood stick on your black soul for
ever, as it does on your white shirt ! "
" I know nothing of what you say, nor do I know how this
blood came here."
" Nor how your bloody knife was in your room ? " bawled
the potboy from amongst the ashes and embers of the
fireplace.
" Nor how his purse of gold came in your pocket ? " sneered
the landlady.
" He gave it me," said Gwynett. " Vou saw and heard him,"
he added, turning to Gaultier.
" Not I, indeed," replied the abbe, who had moved a little
down the room.
Gwynett gave a little start. He recollected the speaker's
peculiar voice in an instant.
" Liar ! " he shouted, making a bound towards Gaultier
" I know you ! You are the scoundrel who tried to burn me
alive at the presbytery ! "
Before half the distance was covered which separated him
from the abbe, the whole roomful of people had flung them-
selves upon Gwynett. The potboy rolled under the table
and grasped his legs, his hair was seized from behind, and
after half-a-dozen of his assailants had been sent rolling against
the wainscot by a sweep of the chair, the rest of the party all
came to the floor together in a heap, with Gwynett unconscious
underneath them, his head cut open by a blow from a poker.
The victors picked themselves up, cursing and swearing,
and presenting a lamentable array of broken noses, bleeding
lips, black eyes, and damaged garments.
„ A perfect demon, that fellow," grumbled the stableman,
i.J
•n his left by
/er-head into
liim by one
eked up and
5t of you that
nless you are
1 to you ! "
the landlady,
: a murderer,
who had to
.r.
as you know
lack soul for
now how this
m ? " bawled
abers of the
et ? " sneered
1 heard him,"
loved a little
;he speaker's
rds Gaultier
i to burn me
iparated him
I flung them-
ler the table
behind, and
oiling against
the party all
unconscious
m a poker,
nd swearing,
ises, bleeding
e stableman,
#
"A sweep of the oliair."
I'atji' Xil
"f '
1
i :
' ■ t
1 ■• ^
■
■ i;
s i
;!
a Ikent Squire 261
who had lost a couple of front teeth in the course of the fray.
Lets tie him up tight, or we shall have all the trouble over
again w' he comes to himself."
into If e s^ securely bound and carried off, still unconscious,
K I ,,, i^^- ^^e ^^°^e population of the tavern, exceot
he landlady and the abbd, attended the processLn "o the
bck-up, and before it arrived at its destination half "he New
Year watchers m Deal had joined company with it.
Ihe abb^ waited till the landlady returned to the nrivate
parlour and then rushed into the little room No one had
thought of removing Gwynett's clothes, and they stiU hung
with anxiety the abbd ransacked pocket after pocket of the
r^^/../a«r. the coat and the waistcoat, tore open the val se
flung the beddothes right and left, and even^ea ched he
surprise 'SdlJ ^''\^"'° '^' P"'^^^"^' overwhelmed with
surprise and disappointment, ust as the landlady entered to
nquire if he wanted anything more for the nUrand o
apologise for the annoyance to which he had been !ubjec"ed.
CHAPTER XXXIV
A VISION OF THE NIGHT
DoRRiNGTON Hall was a rambling old country house Ivine
n DevoXe^'Thf n ""^ '"" ^'^ ^^^"^^^^ ^^ «"'--"'
a^ Hn^ w^Lh a ^°^"'?^?'" P^'^Pe^y ^^n nearly as far
as Holt Head and extended back rather more than a mile
amongst the hills The httle seaport of HalcombJ, on an inl^
lUnr • ^^r^^^s /°"nd very convenient for smugg ^17
Ha1l,rhrf b^^of^^S^^^^^^^ '^y ^- -^ °^ ^^^'''^ th^e
The squire's household had been established at Dorrineton
for about two months, madam Rostherne and her niece Sg
arrived there three or four days after the New Year Of he
incidents of their journey from Wrav Cnn^Z I./k'-- -M
De said, except that Muriel was disappoimed to hrve Zlt
nothing of Ambrose during their shorfs^ly in London anS
considerably surprised to have heard nothing of him s"nce
262
H Ikent Squire
:^irii
i .;
■li
Meanwhile, she and her friend Avice rode, hunted, shot,
sailed, fished, and in other ways made themselves companions
for Noel after a fashion that filled that young gentleman's
soul with satisfaction. The squire's asthma improved; but,
on the other hand, his intermittent foe the gout attacked
him again with unusual virulence. His temper under these
conditions became nearly that of a maniac, and his house-
hold came into his presence with fear and trembling, and
an eye on everything that might serve conveniently for a
missile.
One night at the beginning of February, Muriel and Avice,
who occupied the same bed, had retired somewhat earlier than
usual in order to escape the squire's rather sulphurous rhetoric.
Avice had fallen asleep almost as soon as her head touched
the pillow; but Muriel, who had felt during the evening a
certain vague uneasiness for which she was at a loss to account,
lay awake for some considerable time.
A dim red light from the fire of peat-blocks allowed the
room to be seen indistinctly, and her eyes travelled dreamily
over the elaborate plaster mouldings of the ceiling and the
carved panels of the wainscot. She thought over the various
circumstances that might have prevented a letter from Ambrose
reaching her, wondering which one of these should be taken
for granted in preference to the theory that he had not written
at all. It first of all occurred to her that the business upon
which he had been engaged for M. de Torcy, which he had
only biiefly described, might have again required his presence
across the Channel. In this case communication by letter
was always more or less uncertain. It was possible that the
dame had intercepted some communication from Ambrose, in
her recent access of ill-will against him; but, on the other
hand, he was not in the least likely to have run the risk of
writing to her direct. That the squire knew nothing of anything
was quite conclusively evidenced by his non-allusion to it.
Finally, she decided that on the morrow she would herself
write both to Thornhaugh and to Will's Coffee-house, in order
to terminate the suspense and anxiety which were weighing
upon her. Soon after this she became a little more sleepy,
and eventually sank into slumber.
About two o'clock she awoke suddenly, with the impression
that her name had been called. Avice was fast asleep, and
it did not appear that she had spoken. The house was
wrapped in silence. A faint glow came from the peat fire.
Muriel lay for some time, listening rather sleepily for a
M
a ment Squire
263
, hunted, shot,
ves companions
ng gentleman's
improved ; but,
gout attacked
er under these
and his house-
trembling, and
eniently for a
iriel and Avice,
hat earlier than
lurous rhetoric,
head touched
the evening a
OSS to account,
:s allowed the
elled dreamily
eiling and the
r^er the various
from Ambrose
ould be taken
lad not written
business upon
which he had
d his presence
tion by letter
ssible that the
1 Ambrose, in
on the other
un the risk of
ng of anything
illusion to it.
would herself
lOuse, in order
vere weighing
more sleepy,
he impression
St asleep, and
e house was
the peat fire,
eepily for a
repetition of the supposed summors. But no sound came
and her eyes gradually closed again. '
An hour or so passed away, during which she once
or twice started in her sleeo, and partly opened her eyes.
An expression of pain crossed her face, and a murmur of
words came brokenly from her lips. Then she sank again
into profound slumber.
Towards four o'clock she moved slightly, a sudden thrill
seemed to pass through her, and a wave of cold air raised
the curls from her forehead and temples. She raised her-
self, still asleep, upon her elbow, and turned her face
towards the fireplace opposite. Then her lips parted, her
eyes opened widely, and she became instantly and fully awake
Before her, standing in the middle of the room, was the
figure of Ambrose Gwynett.
She felt no fear or wonder, but an indescribable mingling
of love, pity, and intense mental exaltation. She gazed at
Gwynett almost without daring to breathe, lest the vision
should fade and vanish. Her lover's face was turned towards
her, and they looked into each other's eyes for several seconds.
His features, illumined by some unknown source of light were
clearly visible. They were pale and haggard, his hair' hung
heavily over his forehead, and his shoulders were bowed as
If with great pam or weakness. As she gazed steadfastly,
he held out his hands towards her, and seemed to pass slowly
towards the bedside till his form was bending over her. His
whoie face was instinct with so intense a yearning to convey
some spoken message that Muriel, breaking through her
breathless silence, whispered almost involuntarily
"What is it, dear?"
fnJnv ."f °1 ^^' '°^^' P^''^^' ^"'^ ^ «^"Sle word came
faintly to her straining ears.
" Innocent ! "
fnrtu u '^^^^^^'^ from some spell, Muriel half rose, and held
forth her arms. On the instant the face and form of Gwynett
S ^™',^"4 ^'th a faint echo of the same word, " Innocent,"
melted into air and disappeared.
Muriel sat waiting for some further sign until close upon
feltn^i^h T '"^ heard nothing. She was quite calm, anS
fit^^^^^^^^^ "°^ ^"^^- ^ -"- «^ -"ef\om suspense
Hnwn'"^' -'?'" '' I'^fr'u '"^ '^'^ ^° ^^'■self, as she finally lay
down. "I am glad I have seen him once again." ^
I hen she whispered silently to the empty air,
[ 1
■ 1
h
ill!
it :
I
If:
Hi il
264
a mcnt Squire
"I did not doubt you, Ambrose. I was only troubled
at your silence. It was good of you to come. I shall know
now that you are mine for ever."
telf A^lt^'^f'"^/*?' i^^V"""'' V°"''^^"*"e ^^^^her she should
tell Avice wKa had happened. But Avice presently woke
up and after 1. mg silent for a few minutes, said
You are aw.ke, Muriel ? "
" Yes."
" Since when ? "
" I do not quite know— some hours ago "
'* How was that ? "
Muriel made no immediate reply, and Avice went on,
You have something to say to me, Muriel."
Muriel turned and looked at Avice with an air of surprise.
That IS true,' she said. "But I scarcely know how to
tel you. You will think I have only been dreaming/^
^^ Very hkely," said Avice. - Let us hear, at all events."
1 have seen a vision, Avice— a vision to warn me It
meant that Ambrose is dead."
" How do you know ? "
it was'^rtaini;'^!"'"^ "'^'^- ''^^ "^^^ "°^ ^^'^'^ ^^' ^^^
i! Lu^!^^"° objection to believe it-quite the contrary."
What do you mean ? " '
"My dear, I saw him myself."
" You ! when ? "
Tf IS^u'^ ^°!' '^''?~\ "^^^ ^°°^^"g ^t ^'"^ before you woke,
myself.'' "" ' '"''"" ^^^ ^'^' ^ ^^^"''^ ^^^^ roused you
Muriel was lost in wonder.
u Did you hear what he said ? " she asked.
^^ No. I thought I saw his lips move, but I heard nothing "
He spoke just one word— « innocent.' I think he said it
again, just before he disappeared."
" I did noi hear it."
a dre^am.'''' '^'^"^^" ^"' ^^^°" '^^ ^^"^' '^ ^^""^^ ^ave been
"No."
"Then it was his spirit, and he is dead."
^^ Nothing of the sort," said Avice very positively
How can you reject the evidence of your own eves ?»
"What evidence? You think yo„ Lv. ,«" ^f A,„,,,,
spirit-so do I, on the whole. ThL" is~nothi;;"y;t t show'
what It all means. But it does not in the least follow that he
a Ikcnt Squire
only troubled
I shall know
ther she should
)resently woke
265
^ent on,
of surprise,
know how to
ling."
11 events."
warn me. It
believe it, but
contrary."
>re you woke,
e roused you
ird nothing."
ik he said it
)t have been
eyes ? "
I Ambrose's
yet to show
How that he
1
is dead, or even that there is anything very much amiss—
except, by the way, that he is probably ill."
Muriel looked bewildered at her friend's matter-of-fact way
of discussing an occurrence which had filled her own mind
with awe.
"How strangely you speak, Avice ! " she said finally. « I
could understand you disbelieving in what has happened, but
your way of believing it passes my comprehension."
" It IS quite simple," replied Avice. " The fact ir, although
1 never myself saw or heard anything like this before, the idia
of It is not new to me. It was a subject my mother often
discussed with me, and what she said impressed me more
than anything else I can recollect. I think : had better tel
you two or three of the things she used tc mention to me.
an^ then you will understand better."
L'L^ u^" ^^ ""^'l S^^^ *° ^^^'" sa*^ Muriil wonderingly.
Well, proceeded Avice, ''when my mother lived at Wrav
Manor, m my grandfather's time, she had several curious
experiences, of which she told me before she died, in order
(as she said) that I might be prepared in case anything of the
sort ever happened to me. Three of them interested me more
than any of the others, and it is these three that seem to bear
upon what we saw last night."
" Tell me them."
"I'll give you them in the order they happened. First—
by the way you know that my grandfather was paralysed
and^ confined to his room during the last year or two of his
" I recollect hearing of it."
r Jl'^^^lir^. ^^ the time my mother was firsc engaged to
colonel Elliott, my father, who was then living with his sistS
at Wray Cottage Old squire Wray never liked my moSe
^ul^ T i' "'^^'- ^^ '^^ ''^y^^ ^' "distress Eiliottrafter
dusk, which was occasionally the case, the squire used to send
over a groom to escort her back."
park!^^^^ ^' '' '''''^ ^ '^°'^ ^''^^"^^' ^"^ a" through the
"Oh ! it was before the Boyne, and all sorts of stories
t": country/?^'' ^'^"^ '"^' •^^^^'"^-^ l^-"g '-"^dfo pSage
;; Well, go on."
r«'l^"^.^''^"u"^; *" ^^^^ ^^'■^y summer, my mother left the
c^rie'to meTfh ^'^' ^'^°"Sh the park alon^, because no onl
came to meet her as usual. It was eight o'clock-the time
266
a Ikent Squire
be
it
in
was
u:
1
•
1
1
i
1
»
bed and asleep. At
a wooden one then,
the old squire used i erally to
the Httle foot-bridge— _, m know
and the bushes were not grown —
" Yes."
•* At the bridge she caught sight of a man coming through
the open field from the Manor, and stopped to see who it
might be. She watched him approaching for some distance,
and was amazed at last to recognise the old squire. He
seemed to see her, and hastened his footsteps. She had a
most distinct view of him till he came up to the bridge. Just
as he reached it, he disappeared."
" But how could ? "
" Wait a moment. My mother was very much frightened,
and ran home as fast as she could. She found the squire
comfortably asleep in bed as usual, and the groom drunk in
the stables. What do you say to that ? "
" It was very strange."
" My mother said she always believed that the old squire,
in his sleep, knew that the groom was neglecting his duty, and
that in his anxiety for her, something of him— his mind, or his
thoughts, or his spirit, or whatever you like — went out to meet
her in bodily form."
" W 11, what was the next ? "
" The next was after my mother was married, and I was a
month old. We were at York at the time. My father was
in command of the garrison, and had to go to London on
some regimental business. My mother received no news of
him for three weeks after his departure, and became very
anxious. One night she woke up, and saw my father standing
at the bedside, dressed in white, his head bound round with a
linen cloth. He looked earneslly at her and at me — I was
asleep by her side— and then disappeared. My mother made
sure it was his disembodied spirit, and fainted away."
" I do not wonder. It surprises me I did not do the same
last night."
"But that is not all the story. My father, it appears,
caught a fever on his way to London, became delirious, and
did not recover his senses for three weeks. He was at a
friend's house, and they had got a nurse for him. This
woman noticed his return to consciousness, and spoke to him.
He said he felt sure his days were numbered, but that he
could die happy if he could only see his wife and child once
more. The nurse put a fresh wet bandage on his head, and
he went to slee;> again for a few minutes. When he woke up
^K,
a Ikent Squire
967
I asleep. At
len one then,
niing through
to see who it
3me distance,
squire. He
. She had a
bridge. Just
;h frightened,
id the squire
om drunk in
le old squire,
his duty, and
mind, or his
t out to meet
and I was a
[y father was
) London on
I no news of
became very
ther standing
round with a
t me — I was
Tiother made
ly."
do the same
, it appears,
lelirious, and
ie was at a
him. This
poke to him.
but that he
d child Once
is head, and
I he woke up
he told the nurse he was quite contented, for he had been to
his home and had seen his wife and the baby sleeping on her
arm. This was at the exact time my mother saw him. I
suppose you would call that a warning vision ? "
" I am sure I should."
" Nevertheless, my father at once began to recover, and, as
you know, lived for several years afterwards. Now for number
three — a very trifling affair, but with a moral to it."
«• What was that ? "
" When I was five years old, we had a little party at Wray
on my birthday, and my mother made me a delightful new
frock with her own hands. It was just finished in time to
put on before the other children came at five o'clock — in
June, you recollect. A few minutes after I had gone down
from the nursery to join the party below, a tremendous shower
of rain came on. My mother happened to look out of the
window, and was amazed to see me walking in the little side
garden in my new frock, with the rain falling in torrents.
She called to me from the casement to run in at once, but I
walked off among the shrubs, and she lost sight of me. She
ran downstairs to pass through the room opening on the
garden, where the other children were, and there I was
amongst them, perfectly dry, and never having left the room
at all."
" That seems quite unaccountable."
" Yes — on your theory. But I want you to notice that in
none of these cases of people appearing to be seen where
they could not really be present was there any question of
death or of calamity. In the first instance there might have
been a little fidgetiness, but nothing more ; in the second
my father had certainly been passing through a serious crisis,
but it was over, and things were on the mend ; in the last,
as you see, there was simply nothing the matter whatever.
So, from the time my mother told me of these and other
experiences of hers,* it has made me think of all that sort of
thing quite differently,"
" But do you understand it at all ? "
"Not in the least. Only it seems to discourage jumping
at conclusions too hurriedly."
"I see what you mean. I was perhaps wrong to be so
certain about Ambrose. But do you really think that what
we saw meant nothing at all ? "
* Incidents practically identical with those narrated occurred to an
intimate friend of the writer.
268
;i
l«^
il
1 ,
! i
i:H
B f?ent Squire
I never said that. On the contrary, I am afraid it doP<:
mean something. I shouldn't be surpH ed .? Ambrose is iU
or in some great trouble, although I see no Occasion o
suppose anythmg more. If I were you, I shoiUd w Ue S
once and inquire if anything is wrong"
" I had made up my mind to do that, last evening You
have aken a great load off my mind. But what could iZ
word -innocent 'mean ? and why did you not hea it ? »
and y^^u^^ndL^o^'d"^^^^^^^^ f ^^t it.
you will hear sooner or late^andt^ke mTan m itTn"
earthly use guessing. Don't worry, but get ud ''
At this stage Ayice put her precepts into practice bv
commencing her toilet, and Muriel followed her Sofe ^
cer?airL Cor;r^ ""^^^ ''i' '"^^ DartmouthT? e a
certain Mr. Coverdale on some horse-dealing business of th^
squire's. He returned at a furious gallop in thrafternoon
looking very pale and much disturbed, and was met bv Mnr^S
and Avice just as he came into the house from the ta^e^'^
youE^fSir"^'^^^'^™''^"^^'^-^^'' -'^edAvice. ^Have
" No,'- replied Noel, who seemed rather reluctant tn K«
questioned; «'it was something I heard I shouM lile to
speak to you about it." !>nouia like to
His tone distinctly suggested that his news was for Avice's
ear alone Muriel noticed it, and instantly cried out
nnn^f h"! ^^/.°™^,^^'^ tidings about Ambrose-what is it?
Don t be airraid to tell me. I have been expecting it "
Noel looked doubtfully at Avice ^'^^"ns «•
aJr^rds?" '"'" ""'■" ^'^ ^'''^- "' -" ''" you why
" Is he dead ? " asked Muriel.
"No."
Av^eto'ok tr &."' ""'"' "^'- "'* ^ ^^ of relief.
" What is it ? " she said to Noel
tremlfi. "rvoicT "''' "°"'" ^''^' ^"-^' ^'^^^ ^
"It is a terrible affair," said Noel slowly. "You
prepare your mmd for a great shock."
» ?*^ °^~",^° °"'" ^^^^ ^^'ce impatiently.
At the hotel in Parfrn/^t,tU .,.1 t , ,
Coverdale, I found one'or'Tw"o';e;s:h'=ee s Sf dl'oW
My eye caught a paragraph in one of them, and Tbrou|hui
little
must
P
B Ikcnt Squire
369
fraid it does
mbrose is ill,
occasion to
uld write at
ening. You
t could that
r it ? "
^ thought it,
:, I suppose
me it is no
practice by
example.
:h to see a
ness of the
J afternoon,
t by Muriel
stables.
:e. "Have
tant to be
ild like to
for Avice's
t,
vhat is it?
t,"
1 you why
of relief.
th a little
"iovi must
to meet
days old.
•rought it
back with me. I'll leave it with you. Call me if you want
me afterwards."
Noel took a small printed sheet out of his pocket, handed
it to A"ice, and went off into the house with a very depressed
counted'' nee.
Avice unfolded the paper, and Muriel, in an agony of
anxiety, devoured the half-dozen columns contained in the
front page. There was nothing of any interest in it, and she
turned over the sheet with trembling hands. Before her eyes
was the following paragraph :
"The Deal Murder.
We hear that Ambrose Gvvynett, who was convicted at the
recent Maidstone Assizes of robbing and murdering a fellow-
traveller at the 'Crown and Anchor' Inn, Deal, on New Year's
Eve, has been more or less ill with jail-fever during his im-
prisonment. This has naturally aggravated the effects of the
serious injuries he sustained while resisting arrest. Nothing
has transpired since the trial as to the identity of the victim.
The murderer will be duly executed at Maidstone at eight
o'clock in the morning of Tuesday next, February 6th."
" Good heavens ! " cried Avice, letting the paper fall, ** that
is to-morrow morning ! "
Muriel had fainted.
CHAPTER XXXV
A FRIEND IN NEED
As Noel entered the hall, he was greeted in rather noisily
hearty tones by a man who was crossing it to enter the dining-
room, and who stopped to shake hands with him.
This personage was a florid, horsey-looking individual of
about forty years of age, by birth a Yorkshireman, and by
station a small squireen near Doncaster. He had come into
a heavily encumbered estate at his majority, found that it
would barely secure him bread and cheese, and consequently
determined to sink the country gentleman and become a
trader. Going into horse-dealing and horse-breeding, he had
prospered exceedingly, and for some years past had held
lucrative contracts for supplying horses to the allied armies
on the continent. At home he was beginning to be known
970
a Itcnt SqiUrc
M
m-
far and wide as a contractor for several lines of post-service
u. Ilie government, and had been frequently etiolovS hv
™nrin'',L''„ r^b'a v::nX'iand%°''fr/'''"'''--
he rememherpri M, .1 ii *^''Vr' ^"g'anrt. It will, of course,
One branch of the business carried on by Mr Tohn
Coverdale (of whom v ■ have been speaking) was the purchase
and rammg of Exmoor and Dartmoor ponies which he
successful breeder of horses and cattle. As a lad Noel h.rl
been a particular favourite of Coverdale's -inH hif « 1
mount had been a present from thTcontractor '" '"'"^
his fmmenTe^ fiS""^u?h^'"'" ^"'^ ^°^^^^^'^' ^« ^e held out
hour^S;v?: SUe^^ss^^^mTwh^l lIuS In"
to speak to farmer Leigh at Alvington.^ "'"""^ '"
bad r-L Sor L^c'K icSTtHXT^H- „r;;d-j >-
" w^°°l''"" "P'*^'- ^■"' <"■! no' <^are to join him "^^
We rather expected to see something of vou earh>r » h»
foX'tuest'^PlrtteE ^r^ °' ">' A"''''"^-""'-'
had/eef fb'ere t^k^sln^e^S '^Ty'^^^'^ '''' "" '
you&hy?'." '"'" '^°™"'="^- """"'"S => bumper. "Did
•' No."
je^JiraLft-be'-^-J^Lfa^^^^^^^
of';ttru■^e^^■'^;^oili:r^"''"°"'"^■■"^°■-*-
" Indeed ! I congratulate you "
«
post-service
Tiployed by
tablishment
e establish-
, of course,
ate and for
o( facilities
ol private
Mr. John
le purchase
which he
periodically
jnce some
had from
himself a
Noel had
is earliest
■ held out
ich other.
DUth."
't only an
turned in
ts I have
me."
ere lunch
ly. Noel
irlier," he
3us claret
■. " Did
mber; a
between
imaindfr
)mg now
jlenty to
B Kent Squire
371
be done with fbe posts — either in '' way of swindling the
government or or proper organisati< ■. ly idea at present is
to choose the latter alternative. Anything worse than the
roads and the ' attle along this western route I never saw
anywhere."
"We escapt'i pretty wtll ourselves," said Noel. ' But we
took our time, mid by good lutk there had been a fortnight's
dry weather."
" That's your one chance. A good shower will make some
parts of the road nearly impassable. Of course, my concern
is only with the establishments. JJut if I can't bully some of
the townships into filling up their quagmires, hang me if I
won't divert the traffic, and ruin them. It wouldn't take much
to do it."
" We are certainly better off in Kent."
"A different thing altogether. Everybody goes between
London and Dover, and my lords this and that expect to find
a Strand all the way."
Coverdale helped himself to another glass, and then glanced
at Lionel.
"You're looking a little gloomy, my young friend. What's
the matter ? "
Noel saw no use in affecting secrecy about what was suffi-
ciently notorious to have found its way into a provincial news-
sheet. He therefore acquainted Coverdale witn the news he
had brought from Dartmouth.
" You know mistress Dorrington," he added. " I may say
there is an engagement between her and Mr. Gwyne t. It makes
the matter doubly distressing to us, as you may suppose."
" It is pe/fectly monstrous," exclaimed Coverdah" in amaze-
ment. *' ' Murder ' may mean anything— a duel, ; scuffle, or
some fellow killed in self-defence, if one knew ai about' it.
But the ' robbery ' is simply out of the question. What on
earth should Mr. Gwynett of Thornhaugh want to r b anyone
for ? And the execution fixed for to-morrow, you sa ? Hor-
rible ! How is it you only hear of this now ? "
" Impossible to say," replied Noel. " The paragr, ph, you
see, spoke of illness— but that could hardly accoui . for it.
Some letter may have miscarried "
At this moment Avice burst into the room.
"Noel !" she cried, "come at once into the squire'.' study
\ ou will excuse him, Mr. Coverdale "
Coverdale waved his hand in deprecation 01 any apology
and the young couple hurried out of the room.
272
H Ikcnt Squire
I!
M '
1 3
f H
1
"What is it ? " asked Noel, as they crossed the hall.
"First of all," replied Avice, "Muriel fainted when she
read that paper. Then, after madam Rostherne and I had
brought her round again, she went straight to the squire and
said she must go to Maidstone at once."
" To Maidstone ! "
" Yes— but there ! just listen to the squire."
There was no difficulty about listening to the squire, for his
furious imprecations could be heard all over the building and
the house-servants were gathering at various corners in amaze-
ment at the outburst. The study was, in reality, a sort of
ottice in which the squire transacted his business, and which
Coverdale had left only a few minutes before. Seated in his
great arm-chair, with his bandaged foot supported on a high
footstool, Mr. Wray was shaking his fist at Muriel, who stood
facmg him across the table, while his face was purple with
passion, and he almost choked himself by the haste with which
he poured forth his objurgations. Madam Rostherne sat
near him, looKing angrily at Muriel, while at the same time
endeavouring to temper the unmeasured violence of the
squire.
" Innocent ! " he was bellowing, as Avice and Noel came
m— innocent ! How the devil can he be innocent when he's
been convicted by a jury ? And what else could be expected
from an infernal, traitorous, foreigneering Jacobite ? All thieves
and murderers, every man jack of 'em— only waiting to be
found out, like this scoundrel ! and the sooner they're all at
the end of a rope the better, curse 'em ! "
Muriel stood pale and rigid, hearing but apparently unheed-
ing the storm of coarse abuse hurled at her by the squire
Her eyes were fixed on vacancy, and she seemed only partly
conscious of what was passing. When the squire stopped
in sheer want of breath, she repeated the words which had
elicited his last outburst.
" He is innocent," she said, in a low, dreamy voice. " He
told me so. I must go and see him."
T " '^,^\g''"l'^ raving," roared the squire. " Be off, all of you '
1 won t hear a word more about Ambrose Gwynett, now or
ever— he s got his deserts, and there's an end of it i "
Muriel shuddered slightly, and grasped a chair-'back to
support herself. Noel was boiling over with indignation.
Father." he said, "have n litflp roncidef^'n" ^t _i-
us can believe for a moment that Ambrose can be guilty of
what they impute to him, and
B ment Squire
273
lall.
1 when she
and I had
squire and
Liire, for his
lilding, and
' in amaze-
^ a sort of
and which
ited in his
on a high
who stood
lurple with
with which
therne sat
same time
:e of the
^oe\ came
when he's
; expected
^11 thieves
ing to be
y're all at
y unheed-
le squire,
nly partly
stopped,
'hich had
:e. " He
1 of you !
t, now or
!"
-back to
on.
guilty of
i
" Curse you ! " screamed the squire, twisting himself round
towards his son, " who asked your opinion ? Are you going
to set yourself up against your father, you rebellious young
dog ? "
Muriel moved a step forward, and swept from her forehead
the hair which had fallen over it when she had fainted.
"Mr. Wray," she said, as if unconscious of what had
previously fallen from the squire, " I must go to Maidstone
to see Ambrose before he dies. You will help me ? " and she
held out her hands imploringly.
The squire fell back in his chair, tugging at his neckcloth,
and shaking his other fist in the air.
" Take away that idiot ! " he yelled.
Noel was opening his mouth to make some violent protest,
when Avice clapped her hand over it, and pulled him towards
the door.
" Hold your tongue," she said. " It's no use. Let us get
Muriel away from this, or I don't know what will happen."
Noel swore under his breath, but felt the force of his
cousm's advice. He turned his back on the squire, and by a
gesture begged Muriel to leave the room. She looked blankly
at hmi, and Avice had to take her arm and lead her out into
the hall. Here they encountered Coverdale.
" I've been listening at the door," said this worthy. « For
the matter of that, I could have heard just as well at the
lodge gates, so far as the squire is concerned. What is it that
mistress Dorrington wants ? "
Muriel turned to him with the same quiet and almost
emotionless expression of face she had shown to the squire
'' I must go to Ambrose," she said. " I must see him
before he dies."
Avice looked at her with a troubled air.
'' pear," she said, " it is impossible. You know it took us
nearly four days to come here from Kent."
''I shall ride fast," replied Muriel impassively. " You will
lend me your Arab, Noel. It will carry me better than either
Avice's horse or mine."
"Ride her horse to Maidstone, and before to-morrow
morning? asked Coverdale, looking from Avice to Noel in
bewilderment.
^^ " You hear what she says," returned Noel, takine him aside.
1 am atraia the shock has confused her mind."
" Has she the least idea that it is about eighty leagues as
the crow flies, and by any decent road it must be nearly two
t8
i*i-;|
i
. ?''
I'f. .:
u^
> i M
: i : :
I ;
■ 1-
1!
1:1 ~:
III ii
274
a Ikent Squire
stefotlock?'''^ '"*^''~'' ''^ "°'^'"S °^ ''^ ^^'"8 dark at
Avice came forward as Muriel left the hall quickly
A^^ f» u ^^-'i^ *° ^^^ st^t)les to order the horse to be
saddled." she said. " I think we shall have to hur^our her
and let her start, or she may go perfectly d.stracted You wi i
go^with her, Noel, as far as may be necessary ? "
Of course We may get as far as Honiton or Axminster
mthout our horses foundering, but after that, whft can be
At this point Muriel came back again, and was proceeding
upstairs, when an idea seemed to strike her, and fie turned
sympXy ' "^° "'' "'''"'"^ ^^^ ^'^^^ great dS of
"Mr. Coverdale," she said, "while I put on my habit will
you do me the great favour to write me^ome directions for
he best route between here and Maidstone? It wS" save
time, and there is none to lose." ^
" My dear madam," cried Coverdale, much moved "I'll
and'SSs "' '" "' P^"'"^ ''' ^°"' ^"^ ' ^^^^ -"idea. Go
up^rf fi^S^d by^^cf ''''''''' "P°" ^^- -^ -^^-d
''I was an ass not to think of it before," muttered Coverdale
to himself. ' It might be done-a frigh fully near thClhnt
not absolutely impossible " ^ ming-but
11 S'¥^ '^ "°^ impossible ? " asked Noel
1^' I have ten pounds or so," said Noel.
Coverdale ran back to the study, where the squire was
still fuming over his recent interview, and madam Rostheme
was trying to pour oil over the troubled waters. ^^^"^^'^"e
My dear sir." said Coverdale, "do me the favour ^n
e me have back the forty pounds' I paid you just now anS
1 1 give you a week's bill. I find I'm short of mbney "
"Hang your notes!" said the souire. wh!? 2". ;. .u.
mooa to object to everything, although he had noUhe'leasI
doubt as to the security offered. " It was a cash barglin "
M
ts being dark at
uickly.
he horse to be
to humour her,
cted. You will
n or Axminster
t, what can be
wa.s proceeding
md she turned
. great deal of
my habit, will
directions for
? It will save
1 moved, "I'll
an idea. Go
lim and oped
Ted Coverdale
ear thing— but
ed Coverdale,
noney in the
nent, and my
may not be
ave just paid
e squire was
m Rostherne
le favour to
ust now, ^nd
>ney."
«roc« ■»« 4.U >*
"•■Lj 111 uic
not the least
bargain."
H Ikeiit Squire 275
"I know— nevertheless, I am in a hurry, and can't cet at
my money at Plymouth and Bristol in time."
J^Jn time for what?" asked the squire, with a suspicious
"I'm going to escort your ward to Kent," replied Cover-
dale, who cared nothing for the squire's likes or dislikes and
thought that Muriel had been outrageously treated
"With my money?" roared the squire. "I'm d r1
if you shall." ^ u
"Very sorry to disagree with you, squire, but I must, and
time presses. I think you put the cash in this desk ? "
in frnnf .on'"'"' a heavy oak affair, resting on the study table
in Iront of the squire s chair.
"I did, and here it stays," said the squire, bringing his
ml^dfrverSaS" '' ^'' ' '^"^^ " ^°"'- ^^^^ ^^^'^^
wJn^.hPH''?r'!f ' , "^'^ "°i r'^^ ^'"^^ ^"^ argument, but
wrenched the desk out of the squire's hands, and sewed
lur^ln^tLXf ''"^ ^"" •" '""'^ ^° P--- ^^^ ^^y ^eing
Tpaf ip.'' °" '' '■''°"'''' '"^ y°" ^"" ^^^P '^^ beasts till
The squire nearly had an apoplectic fit.
"Stop the infernal thief ! " he screamed, as the door closed
behind Coverdale. The latter noticed that he key wis In
the outside of the lock, and took the precaution !o turn i^
ar^d put it in h,s pocket. Noel was waiting for 'him in Imaze
"Good, so far!" said Coverdale. "Now to saddle nn.-
three horses and be off." ^^^^ °"'
" What on earth are you going to do?" asked Noel as he
hurried after Coverdale to the stables '
"' Of couTseT"^^ '° "^' ''" ^'°" "^'"P ^'°"^ '^^ ^^ddle ? "
" So am I."'
" That is, if there is any use in it "
"Wh'atts ?''^"'' ^""''^ ""^'"^"-^ ^°"'' '^y '"°^^-"
" To get mistress Dorrington to Maidstone hef^r- d— "
"'i^mnol'^r?°'f ^'~>'"" ^^'^ '' much you^se f:-
PP ■ M
f i
;'vfl
1
I '■ 85
' I
276
a meat Squire
night, without money ; impossible for anybody, with one
exception, to help her, ac such short notice and amongs
strangers over a distance of two hundred and forty or fifty
miles. I am the lucky exception." ^
stables ^°'^^' ""^'^ saddled, and Coverdale looked about the
" Have you pistols ? " he asked.
" Two pairs."
"Let us have them-I have my own here. Also a good
l.atchet~the sharpest you can find. And a horn, if you have
such a thing." ^
" We pass the huntsman's cottage, and there is a hatchet
ground this morning. What are we going to do, may I
•'In one word, my dear fellow-post. I am goine to
convoy you past all the posting-houses between Exeter and
London, and I am the only man in England who can do it
«7r2"~"^* "'^'^^ ^"^ against time, that is to say."
That IS a wonderful idea, and I shall never forget your
kindness. But why through London ? That detour will ^cos
us thirty extra miles." ^
"It will cost us twelve extra hours to take any other route
As It is I dont say it can be done-I only say it is not
impossible. For myself, I shall break down on the way-I
don know exactly where. You are young, and light, and in
training. As to the lady " ^ '
iP A^,'f r^?^"" u '"^^'"^ ^^^ stable-yard just as the groom
Cn Tr^ ^ '^'^^ ^°''''- ^°'^ h^^ g°"^ f°^ the pistols, and
his saddle ''''' '"'''^^'"^ ^^' ^'^'^'^' '"'"PP"^ '■" ^ ^'°th, to
..Lf\ ^?''' V '^'^ ^""^^' '"^ ^ ^""'^ tone, seeing that her
saddle had not been put on Noel's Arab.
cf""^^ '^Lf^''!''^' niadam," said Coverdale, holding her
stirrup. We leave all three at Exeter, and it is no use
making needless changes."
" Do you come with me, sir ? "
Mnlf ' ^^'.'■'j \f'''"u''^^P ^" ^^^ '^^'^^^^ After that, you and
Noel must do the best you can. Mount, my dear madam-
here IS Noel, and we must lose no time "
Muriel was in the saddle before he had finished speaking
and Noel followed her example. Coverdale took a key ouT^f
his pocket, and handed it to A vice.
A^ice ''"he^t^^n" '"^^ k' '" ^'' ''."^y' ^° '""^ ^"y ^"^5' "^'Stress
Avice, he said, as he mounted. " Will you kindly let him
■'i
body, with one
:e and amongs
id forty or fifty
)oked about the
J. Also a good
orn, if you have
2re is a hatchet
to do, may I
am going to
en Exeter and
■ who can do it
y."
ver forget your
detour will cost
iny other route,
y say it is not
on the way — I
id light, and in
t as the groom
the pistols, and
in a cloth, to
seeing that her
, holding her
i it is no use
that, you and
lear madam —
ihed speaking,
k a key out of
fuss, mistress
:indly let him
H Ikent Squire 277
out, with my most humble apologies? Wish us God-speed
and good-bye to you ! "
Avice nodded, and the three riders started at a gallop alonjr
the park drive leading to the Exeter road.
It was a quarter past two o'clock. In seventeen hours
far away ori the other side of England, the light of the earliest
dawn would fall upon grey prison walls, an expectant multitude
and a gallows. '
CHAPTER XXXVI
A RIDE AGAINST TIME
The travellers drew bridle at a cottage close to the boundary
? . u\^'''u' """"^ ^°^^ ^""8 ^'"^^e^f off his horse to run and
fetch the huntsman's horn of which he had spoken. Half a
rnmute sufficed for this. Coverdale took the horn, slung he
strap over his shoulder, and the trio resumed their journey
The day was clear and bright, the air dry and crisp, and it
promised to be a fine night. The road, thanks to an excep-
nonaiiy dry January and pretty constant wind, was in the
best condition that could be expected in an age when
Macadam was unknown, when family coaches were frequently
overturned by the ruts in the main highways, and when prTnce
George of Denmark, travelling by carriage over the forJv
miles between Windsor and Petworth, took fourleen hou s o
accomphsh the journey.
" Everything depends upon the light," said Coverdale as
m 'lo^n^Tff ^ ^°"" -rr^^ '^^^"^•^- " ^^e shall have twitigh
till long after six o'clock. Luckily, there is a capital strefch
of road for ten miles on this side'of Yeovil. If we only m
a clear sky at night there could not be a luckier time The
moon IS at the full some time to-day or this even inT"and it
will be aloft for more than twelve hours " ^'
Very little conversation was exchanged during the first
K. r! •■ ,^he horses had been walked through Totnes and
S^^^STridTe^'r'" 'ffT ^' ^^^" ridden 'almost :i;hou'
drawing bridle. Coverdale had urged that the few rpm..ni.„
auurs or aayjight were so valuable" that their beasts must h?
rz'zt:. Si. """ ''- '''' -'-y °^ post-h::;eT"c^i^d^
1
fe
278
a Tkent Squire
I
' ^ 1
1
in
1 1: 1
■ .^1
1
■
i l\
■ t!!
I
\
ill
r^ift
•:i
• I
Four o'clock was striking as the county town was entered.
Thirty-three miles had been covered since starting. But this
had been by daylight, on first-class mounts, and represented
a higner rate of progress than could be expected at subsequent
stages of the journey. At the Exeter post-house, where all
the ostlers recognised Noel and Muriel, as well as Coverdale,
their saddles were transferred to three fresh horses in the
twinkling ot an eye. This was by Coverdale's advice, on the
double ground that it would save time on the whole to take
their own saddles with them, and that if they did not they
might fail at some place or other to get a side-saddle at
all. The journey was resumed with scarcely five minutes'
delay.
Honiton was reached within the hour, and Coverdale, who
found the wife of the postmaster at her tea, recommended
Muriel to join her and take a little refreshment while the relay
was being brought round.
" I could not swallow anything," replied Muriel, speaking
for the first time since leaving Exeter.
" My dear madam," replied Coverdale promptly, " I con-
sider this affair is in my hands, and I know what I am about.
If you want to get beyond Salisbury, you must eat something.
If not, say so, and I will wish you a good evening."
Muriel went very obediently into the landlady's parlour,
and forced herself to swallow a cup of tea and a slice of bread
and butter. Then the relay appeared, and the third start
was made just as the sun was setting.
When they reached Axminster, half an hour afterward- the
moon was already showing itself above the eastern horizon
and a clear sky appeared everywhere. The road had been
rather heavy.
"We had better change again here," remarked Coverdale
to JNoel. These beasts are a poor set, and it is a eood
twenty miles to Yeovil." ^
The relay was obtained, and the two men had some bread
and cheese while the saddles were removed. The first part
of the road to Yeovil was decidedly bad, and neither the
after-glow nor the low-lying moon afforded enough light to
permit of anything like a rapid pace. The second half of the
distance was better, and the light improved as the moon
rose. Nevertheless, it was seven o'clock before thev reached
the Dost-honsp ^
"We are behind time," said Coverdale, as he flung himself
ott his horse and ran into the inn.
vn was entered.
irting. But this
and represented
d at subsequent
lOuse, where all
11 as Coverdale,
1 horses in the
advice, on the
e whole to take
!y did not they
L side-saddle at
y five minutes'
Coverdale, who
, recommended
while the relay
[uriel, speaking
nptly, " I con-
lat I am about,
eat something,
ig."
llady's parlour,
I slice of bread
he third start
afterwards, the
istern horizon,
oad had been
ced Coverdale
it is a good
id some bread
The first part
d neither the
ough light to
ad half of the
as the moon
they reached
flung himself
^
a Ikent Squire 379
The postmaster announced that his only horses were dead
beat, having just come in with a coach from Dorchester.
" You had better try for a relay at Sherborne, sir," said he.
" It's only five miles further on."
'• But there is no post-house there," replied Coverdale
fuming at this check. '
" The landlord of the * Blue Pig ' has a couple of hunters
and a pony or two." *
" The landlord of the ' Blue Pig,' would be a born fool to
lend his hunters to passing strangers," returned Coverdale, as
he went out.
The postmaster followed him into the yard, and signed to
him to give him a word in private.
" Hi ! " said he mysteriously, as Coverdale put his foot in
the stirrup. " I've thought of something."
" Well ? " ^
" Take my advice," whispered the postmaster, " and let the
lady ask him— in a good light, you understand."
Coverdale responded with a wink, and rode off with his
companions.
"Let us hope the 'Blue Pig' is a bachelor, and passably
sober, he said to himself. «' It is a pity we haven't daylight
for this kind of diplomacy." ^
The road to Sherborne, by good luck, was in excellent
condition, and the party lost very little ground by the extra
demand made upon their horses' endurance. As thev nulled
up at the ' Blue Pig,' which was a large and roomy hostelry,
they could see that a long room over the stables was lighted
up with a liberality which suggested some festive function
Coverdale dismounted, and said to Muriel
"My dear madam, there is a fellow 'here who may be
able to help us, and whom we shall have to take as we find
Wlead"^ '^^""^ necessary, I rely on you to follow
Muriel nodded assentingly.
vn," !^? ^ ^!^ ^""^ r" ^^^^ '^°°d the journey so far? Do
you feel as if you could go on ? "
" cl7\ n°thmg_nothing whatever. Only let us hasten."
Gad! sohloquised Coverdale, as he entered the oorch
sltcLT^;S"^- ' ^^"^^ ^° ^° '^' ^^^^ ^ ^-^ ^^^of
d^teT^^J^"} ^""^f ^'".°^ '^^ ^""' a»d found it
deserted. Sounds of revelry and the scraping of a fiddle
came from overhead, and he turned his steps Ipsta.rs. On
il
I
II
380
^;(
11
a ment Squire
comer, and stopped. noticea lliat he was a new-
'" Nm "3 °"? ''"■"* ^°:'' '" ' " ''he asked,
wedding, ^r'a wale! ^rwh« ? .?°""'""^ 8°»« ™- '' " -
before." ^ ^^^"^ ^° have heard the name
played one'o?tSe?ar^rf^' '^' ^''^ °P^"^^ ^ door, and dis-
couples, dres ed\ theS reft\r"''^-^''^"^ ^ ^^«^^ °^
with immense earnestne s wh ^ Z' ^"""Z '^'^^^h a figure
on from benches rantedllong thf 3s Z'T] ^°°'^5
pomted to a youne fellow Jil ? i" ^"^ chambermaid
some orders. ^ ""^^ ^^' ''^"^'"g "^^ far off, giving
•^That is the master," she said.
me?:rs™'ir.ra'n^d' 'x^at ^rzT'"-"' "^'^ --"^
comfortable little landed nr^.^^^ f- '° '''""= '"'" "^orae into a
young man a thfs moment "rn^S' ''5™' '" *"■' ''°"^'- l''"^
■n his'turn, and came forward '°''"''' ""^"''^'^ C"'*"^"'-
in «me.' ""vou'^mulfSe'l I'^^Vh " ^^'' -'-Vo" are just
brings you here"" ^''"" "''* ™^- ^^^at good fortune
we"'eSnge°d"' '""" '°' ""^ P^''' ^""^ *e usual salutations
" buJ rdTd'lt kno" i:: Z ^I^J'r^- ^^'^ ^overdale.
happy returns." '^ '" '^"'""'>' "" Progress. Many
you' nt"%S ird'';o"u^ a'lr„er;°ir'H-'r°™"' '^
about are here to.ni.>ht" ?"«"«'? All the best people
on?/ceK°;;?feS!s;ih^t7"'' ^™'P'^"""^' -<' --ed
tnIi''M™.or''m;i"''"K'' ?™"^'''«- "You're a ...,.h „ou
••Nor;etf."n7t7irM^(^tSe>^"''= ^^"«^' ="-dy'''
•#-
■I
H fkcwt Sduirc
281
irmaid passing
he was a new-
g on. Is it a
tiity. "It is
ball-room, and
see you."
le, as he fol-
iard the name
ioor, and dis-
ly to be found
■rooms of the
r. A fiddler,
A score of
3ugh a figure
tators looked
chambermaid
far off, giving
had recently
t come into a
hotel. The
id Coverdale
-you are just
a;ood fortune
il salutations
1 Coverdale,
'ess. Many
)-morrow, if
best people
ind seemed
I catch, "ou
ilready ? "
"Quite right, no occasion to hurry. But you're a re^ulir
ladies' man, you know." "^
Mr. Marston seemed to relish this suggestion hugely
"Lord! don't flatter a fellow, Mr. Coverdale. I'm well
enough, I suppose."
Coverdale took him aside mysteriously.
" My dear fellow," he said, in his car, " if you like, I'll give
you the finest chance in the three kingdoms. I wouldn't do
It for anyone else."
"What do you mean?" asked Marston, with his eyes like
saucers. ^
"Hush! the most beautiful girl in Englan 3, and two
thousand a year to her fortune."
" Bless my soul ! Who ? Where ? "
" At the front door."
" Lord ! you don't say so ! Won't you bring her in ? "
Quite mipossible— it's there where your chance is."
Hang me if I understand you."
"Simplest thing in the world. Mistress Dorrington— don't
forget the name, now " ^
" I won't."
'' Mistress Dorrington is riding to London to-night "
1 o-night ? Good Lord ! "
"Yes-sudden summons— dying father-only child and
heiress, you understand?"
" Yes— yes ! "
" No change of post-horses to be got at Yeovil »
^^ I daresay. Most of them are here to-night."
^hJZu^ determined to try at your place for a relay on to
I beheve a service at this uncture would win her heart She's
terribly cut up about her father "
you wJntt'' ' '''' "^""'^ '"^ ' ^^""^ "^°^"- "°^ "^^"y do
,',' lu""^^' ^^^ ^^^^ o"'" own saddles."
.< I ^^^ ^ ^^^ "^'^*d, I suppose ? "
^ No— a young fellow."
" Oh ! a young fellow, eh ? "
" Her brother."
the'^ry?'!""" ^''' '^'™ *" '^ jiffy-you'll present me to
M^Lf"^"'^'^' ^^S y^^^ ostlers, and come along."
Comdde" ''" "''' '''' ''''' °^^^^^' and 'returned to
Uj kt
282
a Ikent Squire
Between ourselves," said the latter, «« don't be too business-
hke-do the sympathetic. Beauty in distress, you know-1
sprat to catch a whale, eh ? You and 1 can settle the money
matters afterwards." money
as 'llV^th'nV;;'"''''"/" >^ ^^'- Coverdale. I'm not such a Jew
as all that comes to." ■'
Coverdale went out, followed by the landlord. Muriel and
Noel were still ,n the saddle, and Coverdale gave the latter
a warnmg nudge. ^
"Mistress Dorrington, permit me to introduce to you my
fnend Mr. Marston, who has offered in the kindest manner
and 11^ NTl™rrington.^°""- '^^^^'°"' "^''''^'^ ""''^^^^^^
Marston seemed struck speechless at the sight of Muriel
?o £^ 'X'^,^h^^,.-^knowledgments, and held'out her hand
to be helped to dismount.
"It is very good of Mr. Marston," she said. "We shall
ahyays be grateful to him for getting us out of our difficulty."
l^on my soul, madam," stammered Ma.-ton, "you're
very welcome. Won't you come in?" ^
Ji^l'^ ""T^f ^^^ ^°''^'" ^^'^ Coverdale. " Look alive
with the saddles, my lads ! Excuse our being too nS
pressed to accept your hospitality, Marston-but every moment
IS precious. You'll do one more thing to oblige us' Fm "u?e
—send our post-horses back to Yeovil " ^ > '^ "" sure
Af^'^r'^^jr^"'^*^ ^^^ landlord, unable to take his eyes off
Muriel Leave mine anywhere you like-they're all fresh,
and will carry you well." '
■ '"^^^^"xt" 1"°^^ .^° ^''^"^ y°" '"O'e at leisure on our return
sir," said Noel, raising his hat. '
AnnVh?;" ^^ "^°"^f;°"s glad to see you, sir, and madam also.
And I hope you will hear better news of your father "
Are we ready ? " interrupted Coverdale. " Marston kindlv
give mistress l^orrington a lift. Now, Noel. Lao\ ' S
fhfnks.""'""" ''"°"^'' ^°"- ^°°^ "'Sht. Marston, and many
n.r^v"Ii^^'l]°°^.u^"'^' ^^^^ ^^^ enraptured landlord, and the
^ %? u "^ ?" ^^^ seventeen miles ride to Shaftesbury.
" R„. 1 1?^"^^']^ ^ ^"^'^''^^ °^^" hour," said Coverdale.
But we might have done worse."
^^^What on earth have you been telling that fellow?" asked
" A pack of lies, for which 1 hope to be forgiven. The truth
would have cost us half an hour, and we couldn't afford it."
H Ikcnt Squire
s too business-
you know — a
-tie the money
t such a Jew
Muriel and
ave the latter
:e to you my
ndest manner
!ss Dorrington
It of Muriel,
out her hand
"We shall
• difficulty."
ton, •' you're
" Look alive
g too much
very moment
us, I'm sure
his eyes off
're all fresh,
I our return,
iiadam also,
ir."
rston, kindly
.ads, there's
I, and many
ord, and the
bury.
Coverdale.
ow ? " asked
The truth
fford it."
83
A few miles further on the first difficulty with the turnpike
arose. Hitherto the j^ates had either been found open during
the daylight and the dusk, or the pike- keepers had been on
the alert and had heard Coverdale's horn as they galloped up.
But at Milborne the gate was closed and locked, no light
appeared in the keeper's house, and no response was made to
the summons of the horn. Coverdale and Noel did not
stop to waste further time, but dismounted and lifted the gate
off its hinges. They were in the saddle again when a night-
capped head was poked out of the window, and a quavering
female voice asked what waS doing. Coverdale threw the
toll-money on the doorstep, threatened the pike-keeper with
unheard-of penalties for obstructing her majesty's lieges, and
galloped off after his companions.
The watershed between the Yeo and the Stour brooklets
one flowing to the river Parrett and the Severn estuary, and the
other to the English Channel, was a foundrous piece of road,
and the travellers congratulated themselves on having under
them animals accustomed to any sort of cross-country rough
ridmg. Shaftesbury was reached at half-past eight, and here
a good relay of post-horses was found.
At this stage, notes were compared as to their respective
powers of endurance during the journey. Noel confessed to
a certain amount of fatigue, arising more from the incessant
watchfulness required than from the mere physical exertion.
Muriel disclaimed feeling any discomfort or weariness The
concentration of every faculty of her mind on the single
thought of the doom overhanging her lover seemed to have
deadened all sensibility to other considerations. She spoke
only when addressed, and then with such obvious effort that
her companions thought it better to leave her entirely alone
Coverdale himself was beginning to feel a good deal more
uncomfortable than he cared about.
"We have covered about a hundred miles so far" he
thought, "and taken over six hours to do it in. How I am
to stick on past Bagshot and Hounslow I don't know It's
all very well for people of cast-iron, like these youngsters who
are at it every day and all day. But old fogies like myself are
getting past that sort of thing." / ^u aie
Marston's hunters were left at the Shaftesbury post-house
^!/°l'!!!^l'."':,>^'"g ^P^^'^"y fee'd to treat thenf well and
send theai back to Sherborne. A hasty meal was here
by Muriel. 1 he latter, after a peremptory remonstrance from
mt
m
f
3B4
a l^cnt Squire
the contractor tO(.k a glass of port before recommencing the
liS future'r ''^'^ ''''''''' ^ '-«^ ^-^ ^^ ^»- --
from the mud which lay in all the lower' highwajl^^ in the same
d.rect,on. At the cathedral city, which was reached Tst
before nmc o'clock, a disagreeable difficulty met the travellers
The postmaster, a surly boor, was just sufficiently dn.nk ^o
refuse to attend to his business, and not sufficiently drunk to
be helpless. Ihe ostlers, in terror of his temper, refused
to furnish a relay in defiance of his orders, which were ac
compamed by comprehensive curses upon ill travelfer who
disturbed hmi at so late an hour. The matter was eventually
sett ed by a pugilistic encounter between Coverdale and the
postmaster who was persuaded to listen to reason after three
rounds in the stable-yard in the approved fashion of he ng
as taught at that period by the distinguished Mr. Figg of
Adam and Eve Court, Oxford Street. The present of a couD?e
guineas each fortified the ostlers against their apprehens^ns
of what might befall them on the morrow, and secured thdr
assistance in picking out a good relay
n,i!!l^'"§ ^^^"'■'■ed 0" the road to Andover beyond five
mmutes delay m cutting down the turnpike gate at the fork
of the road to Stockbridge. This was kept by a blacksmith
who had so constructed the hinges of the gate-doubtlesTfor
reasons of his own-that it could not be removed^thout his
professional assistance. He had locked the gate and was
apparently either asleep or too drunk to respond fo CoverdaTel
summons. The latter at once brought h s hatchet ^mont
demolished the lock-post, and flung the gate open u fas th;
aroused blacksmith stumbled out of the 'doorTay and poured
a deluge of hiccupping execrations upon the travellers By he
time he had realised the exact position of matters, the subjects
of his criticism were a mile away on the road past Burv
Hill and over the little river Anton into Andover.^ ^
At the latter place another serious check was experienced
oTtL's^t there trt'n^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^ --^^^' ^- ^^e
'• It is Weyhill fair, sir," he explained. " All the beasts
are over there." oeasts
...at IS nnfortunate," said Coverdale, turning to Noel
1 quite forgot the fair. It is the oldest and biggest in all"
a ikeut Squire
nimencing the
of the same
; White Sheet
iH events, free
s in the same
reached just
the travellers,
ntly drimk to
ntly drunk to
niper, refused
lich were ac-
raveliers who
as eventually
dale and the
»n after three
1 of the ring,
Mr. Figg of
It of a couple
pprehensions
secured their
beyond five
e at the fork
I blacksmith,
doubtless for
I without his
ite, and was
) Coverdale's
let into use,
1 just as the
and poured
lers. By the
the subjects
d past Bury
2r.
jxperienced.
: post-house
ied, but the
the beasts
g to Noel.
ggest in all
a85
I
the south country, and sweeps the district. Whose are al
these liorses ? " ho ! .d the ostler.
" Mostly the farMiers' hereabouts, sir."
Coverdale dismounted, and took the ostler to the stalls
" Show me the three or four freshest," he said.
The ostler scratched his head, and finally oointed out a
pair irom Foxcott, and a big mare from Enham Knights.
These have not done much," he said. "Went to fair
this morning, and have only done the four miles here since
1 he rest are pretty well used up."
" Where are the owners of these three ? "
"In the bar-parlour, sir."
"Sober?"
" Middling."
" Do you know them ? "
" These twenty years."
" Will they sell ? "
"You can try sir. This way, if you like to ask them."
Coverdale followed the ostler into the inn. Five minutes
afterwards he came out again and went to Noel
"I have bought a couple of nags," he said, "but I can't
get a third. Mistress Dorrington is the lightest weight amoncst
us, and her horse must go a little farther. We may cet
another mount at Whitchurch." ^
The two post-horses were left behind, and the journey
was resumed At Whitchurch, after a little delay, a post-
horse was obtained for Muriel. After this good progress
was made till the party reached Basingstoke, about half an
hour after midnight.
The post establishment here was one of the largos^ in
England five great roads from all parts of the country meetinK
at his busy and important town. Coverdale was, of course
well known here, and the post-boys, after they were once
aroused flew to execute his orders. Three excellent horses
which had not been out the previous day, were promptly
[o theTtaW'es' "'°""' ^'°'" Whifchurch was taken
^^^What are you going to do with our purchases ? " asked
Coverdale took him aside.
n^p^^^^^''''"'/u''°"^°y'" ^^ '^'d- "^e may get no relay
3....-.., .....^ „,^jc is ihc Heath before us. You need nnt
say anything to disturb mistress Dorrington "
At this period, and, indeed, till long afterwards, many of
I
>^ 1
286
a fkcnt Squire
i !-
IM'
■; • :i
St
1i
the wide moors which were crossed by great hiehwav.; w^r^
witn exceedingly httle interference at the hands of th^
constituted authorities. So audacious, indeed were these
SchaTTahfd'to'tr m"-' ^^^^^^^^ '" conrpa'y ''with
marecnal lalard to the Newmarket races, was very nearlv
stopped on the way by a party of gentlemen oF he road
Travellers were expected to secure their own safety the bS
way they could and every family coach crossed Bagshoto
Hounslow Heath with a small battery of muskets or blunder
wSwf "Se'"h"'^'"'^." °^ P^'^"^-^ ^-- °he carriage"
windows Those who were dependent upon the oost for the
means of locomotion had to trust for their protecdon to the
very uncertain valour of the post-boys-a term indiscriminately
applied to the employes of any age, from laSs to Sea ds
ments^t t^e ITvI/^^ ''^ ^^^^^^ ^'^ differenf etS
Noe^"' does that make, for our next stage?" asked
full^^^ul °' ^l^^ ^^^ ^"^^"^y ""'^«' I should say-to Staines
that will be. How do you feel ? " "Jiaines,
" Fairly bad. But I'm not done up yet "
"I wish I could say as much. I doubt whether I can
keep in the saddle another hour. Mistress Dorrrngton s mply
confounds me. I don't think she feels anything-I took^a ^
"uCV^llrstm'e ''^•■^"^°""^^- ^ -'^ ofimi^ir
thl^^J''''^^ ""T ^'^"S''^ '■^""^' ^"d Coverdale went into
of atob ' ' "'""'^^ ""'" ^"^ '°"^^^^^ °» '^^ chance
he'callldir'^'T"/!'^^ blunderbusses to ride to Staines."
fte called out. And I don't want fellows who will shut the r
eyes if they have to let fly, and put their slugs into the sma
of my back by mistake— d'ye hear? "
services' ''^^nT^nf^X P'^^^P'^^ '""?" ^°''^^'''^^^ ^"^ °^^'^<i their
H r. ' u °^ ^^.^^^ "^^s ^ coloured man, who was verv
hearty in his expressions of readiness to stand target for any
s"arvLlittlf ST'.K^^ ""'^'r' ^" olc^:rmIn^\"o'
sad very little and the third a rather weakly-looking young
fellow, whom Coverdale set aside at once in favour^ of the
other two. The weapons, loaded and primed, were fetched
from the inn, and the party mounted."^ Noel's slfrr„nw!=
hciu by the younger ostler, and he pulled his forelock 7s the
former rather painfully climbed into The saddle.
highways wert
iredations met
hands of the
d, were these
company with
as very nearly
1 of the road,
safety the best
sd Bagshot or
its or blunder-
m the carriage
e post for the
(tection to the
idiscriminately
to greybeards,
rent establish-
ige ? " asked
y — to Staines,
hether I can
ington simply
—I took care
emi-somnam-
ile went into
n the chance
to Staines,"
ill shut their
ito the small
offered their
ho was very
rget for any
h nan who
Dking young
vour of the
vere fetched
stirrun was
lock as the
" Master
the nianor-
a ment Scrnfre
Noel," he said, " don't you kn
287
you know me? Tim from
London to better his fortune ' '"' ^one to
wit'h^^ou'? 'Y:u'haven't'':C'' ^l'' ","'''»'"» "^ "-»-
took yourself off." ^ ' ""^ better-looking since you
bit"Jeak.'"i?';i,"t?d°r;t.eri:::f, ?■'"■-*'' '''"'■ """'■ '■» ■•'
Noel," he addU°n a wh'sper ■""■■" '"'""" y°". »•••='"
sti^ruptaAe?*'' ''°^'' '"=""'"= -- '^ if '° settle his
ma?:af wS\trrnV°"S'e «o' "°^''^^'' "'"' ""= -'«-«'
and then straightenrd'hhnseJ^larXdt" " '"^ '"""•
,. J' ' '" "8bt now, sir. Goodnight." *'
Th. ? ^"'f •"' f"^ N°'='- I'S'^Ping his ears open
^kVp -tTyf oL^th^T ^^ "-- - *pered.
CHAPTER XXXVII
THE DAWN OF THE 6tH OF FEBRUARY
s^u"isT"Krrco?Jo°n\''^"^ ^•^^^^^^'^^ ^^ke h- by
the%eriod to enter ^rfrieSl'''',^'-^ '^' road-robbers o^f
employes whenev r 'aaiSwe Ld''''°"' '''''' '^'^ P°^''"g
their members taken on as n-^*' '" -"" ^^^ '^"^'" ^^
had the double advantage of Cl?'..""^ °"^^'^^^«- ^his
of receiving useful informaHon^n? ^- ^^ ,^^"^' '" ^^e way
securing the neutrality or a', V, - ''^"°"' ^'"'^'' ^""^ ^''° °^
relied Spon by travellers fo7rh..'"'^ °^ '*^" ^^^^ P^'-^ons
took the first opportuni V of ro.^ ''— ' ^'°^'' ''^^^efore.
Coverdale. ^i^°""n'^y of communicatmg Tim's hint to
'< Ohrv^Jf L°!: Ill^^.^r; -ked the contractor.
^^ He sa.d nothmg about the other?"
n
m
288
a "Rent Squire
I '
hi '
n
i
"He looks right enough— but 'birds of a feather,' etc.
We need not trouble till we get to lla-shot and the Heath.
But in case of accidents, have your hand ready for your pistol.
We'll put these fellows in front as soon as we're out of the
town."
Nothing transpired on the journey to Bagshot, which was
reached some little time before two o'clock. The road was
in good condition, the moon high and shining brilliantly from
an unclouded sky, and the air invigorating. As had been
anticipated, no relay was to be obtained at Bagshot, the place,
m fact, not being a posting-station, although there was a
good mn there. But the horses were not distressed, and
the nine or ten miles further to Staines were quite within
their powers.
As the party came upon the Heath, Coverdale took care
that the post-boys were never out of his sight for an instant.
The moonlight was almost as bright as day, and the moor
could be scanned far and wide. Here and there groups of
fir-trees, which thickened towards the dip between the hilly
slopes at the north-east, afforded means of concealment to
possible marauders. But these were passed without incident.
Towards Sunningdale, where the ground was undulating
but without much cover, the contractor fell back for a moment,
and called to the elder post-boy to pick up Muriel's whip,
which had fallen. The coloured man was alongside Noel
a few yards in front. *
" We have a very narrow strip of road just ahead, sir," he
remarked. "Part of it has slipped towards the gravel-pit
there. Will you go first, sir, or shall I ? "
Noel saw a deep depression, surrounded by thi/k bushes,
m the direction indicated, and at once had his suspicions
aroused.
" You may as well go first," he said, lifting his holster-cap,
and feeling for his pistol as the other passed in front.
A few yards further on the coloured man extracted a white
handkerchief from his pocket, and blew his nose with a good
deal of vigour. It struck Noel that the use of a handkerchief
at all, and a white one to boot, was rather noteworthy, and
he watched sharply while the man, instead of returning the
handkerchief to his pocket, stuck it somewhere on his horse's
head. Noel pulled up short, and called to him.
"Get down a minute, my good fellow/' he said, "and
see if my horse has a stone in his off forefoot. I'll hold your
bridle."
of a feather,' etc.
hot and the Heath.
^ady for your pistol,
as we're out of the
Bagshot, which was
ck. The road was
ling brilliantly from
:ng. As had been
Bagshot, the place,
lough there was a
lot distressed, and
were quite within
loverdale took care
light for an instant,
lay, and the moor
id there groups of
between the hilly
of concealment to
i without incident,
tid was undulating
back for a moment,
up Muriel's whip,
is alongside Noel,
just ahead, sir," he
irds the gravel-pit
i by thi k bushes,
had his suspicions
ng his holster-cap,
1 in front.
n extracted a white
> nose with a good
; of a handkerchief
;r noteworthy, and
1 of returning the
here on his horse's
iim
. »
he said " and
ot. I'll hold your
TliK A.MnrscADi;.
— I'agc :is:t.
IS!
hi ■(-'
m\-'
BMOtW'U .
1*. '
:i'..'« [ ^1^1
mmM:
mi\ ■-)
i
4.
a ■»€« S(julre ,89
ou^of S ^aTrdid l''""?""'' P"";'"« *^ handkerchief
hi. iw, ?i , ° '°' ''"'' "^^nie forward. Noel nn,)»
at„L°dl l?,f "^ "" ^"^""^'^ '"^ 'he two others were
' Spur past the gravel-pit!" he cried ««Th;e .^ ^ ,
was going to signal to his friends there All c. '^^^^d'"^'
past, and let us be ready to fire" '^"""P ^' ^^ 8°
were saluted by fhree "^r ?our .hSf f?" "' ? «'"'°P' ""^
out of rhrho,L''„rad'';?.h:'p'art°"Th? """ ''^''^'^
'o the ground, and his horse to«ed off acToss JhTr" '""
In the meantime annth^r ek Tu j u ^^^°ss the common.
horse Noefwa Ldmi /nd N-\'^.^?^"" '^^ ^^g of the
himself and Telravef^irR^^^^^^^ P^^^^^ between
to gallop on aheaTwhrthefhaUeda^^^^^^^^ '°V' ''"^'^'
who were riding out of the hoLw Th^H t"^ ^' '^'^^ '"'^^
- .he post-horrdTa rx,--; o^rrd^
roil :Xhe p^'bo*" "■'' ""•''"^'' ^""' -^ Coverdale
abouT"?""'"'' *■"• ■">' "'^"' I 'hinlc?" said he. " Where-
.hij^r^tf it°- *1hSS? oJ„™m Shoulder,, replied
The L' '" "'.'""•" =^'d Coverdale.
a lallTe^hTou'n'd fas fouS'' f k''L'^°=" ''"<' i^'^^et. and
and was of no reaf consequence r„ "h^""'' "">' ^"s^tly
" up, remounted with sorSe d.ffi;,,!?"'^'''?"'' 1""^")' l=<"">d
proceed. Once off the H^J^fi, . "?' '""' K"' *e word to
3' - s h;StSs=?^r
.o^LSn^. '"'^Ls^tlpe? P-^^^Xn'^.^'orReat^
-Hers at once uSdnor-^rCtui^prrtfoTad
19
290
IIP
p ft
a ment Sijuive
flip
|- !{ U \
Hounslow Heath. No incident marked the remainder of the
journey to the capital, and the trio rode up to the " White
Horse m Piccadilly a little after half-past three. Thev had
come from Devonshire in thirteen hours.
Coverdale was by this time very nearly prostrated, and he
expressed a doubt as to whether he could be of much further
use as a companion While the saddles were being transferred,
he^rapidly scribbled two or three notes, and handed them to
fKri-'r^".^° J'*^ y°v ^' ^^' ^' ^ ^^"'" ^e said, "but on
the distmct understandmg that whatever happens to me vou
will not stop an instant. These notes will secure you primpt
attention at Dartford and Rochester-also at Greenwich and
Gravesend, if you have occasion to stop, which you must
try and avoid. We are very well up to time so far, and you
ought to be m Maidstone before seven o'clock, if the nisht
keeps clear and all goes well. How do you feel, Noel ? "
Noel shook his head.
J' ^^^ ^'''u ir''?^!; ^,T ^""^^ ^" ^^^ "^0"ey we don't need,"
ne said. if I hold on more than another hour or so I
shall be agreeably surprised. I suppose a chaise-and-four
or SIX would not help us ? "
" Over these roads, not in the least. We should be flunc
about h.e eggs m a wheelbarrow, and get there an hour too
late after all. Let us be off again."
A/r^? ^^u ^^^^^l the trio entered the western end of Pall
Mall, the door of a house at the eastern end opened and
two men appeared upon the threshold. The house was
lord Oxford's town residence, and the prime minister had
been sitting up till the small hours in close conclave with
Mr. Matthew Prior, the poet, and the abb^ GauUier, the
two confidential agents for Great Britain to the peace
conferences at Utrecht, which had been formally opened
on January 29th. Since Menager's return to Paris and
Gaultiers sudden rise in the favour of lord Oxford, the abbe
had been kept entirely in London, pending his intended
departure to carry instructions to the bishop of Bristol. lord
privy seal, who was the British plenipotentiary at Utrecht
Mr Prior, who w-as very much bored and still more sleepy,
had already gone off home in a hackney carriage The lord
treasurer yawned as he shook hands with Gaultier, and
complimented him upon his capacitv for Pndnrm^ lop,^ u^^-^
of business. ' ■& >6 u la
"Your alertness at this hour puts me to shame, my dear
e remainder of the
up to the "White
three. They had
prostrated, and he
De of much further
: being transferred,
d handed them to
he said, "but on
ippens to me, you
secure you prompt
at Greenwich and
which you must
e so far, and you
lock, if the night
feel, Noel ? "
ly we don't need,"
ler hour or so, I
a chaise-and-four
2 should be flung
here an hour too
tern end of Pall
2nd opened, and
The house was
ne minister had
se conclave with
b^ Gaultier, the
n to the peace
formally opened
1 to Paris and
Oxford, the abbe
:ig his intended
) of Bristol, lord
at Utrecht,
still more sleepy,
riage. The lord
I Gaultier, and
iinnrr I/^pi-r t^n]]_n
-■"■(^ '"''6 "wuia
shame, my dear
a mciit sauire ,,,
deCateh TfrirTT- 7°' '"^'""■' I ""' """"Wul that that
the'Sts'letet -Jise"' '° ^"" °' ""''' getting between
be;;a^:5n?pSYhe7hiX^.t"Te V-e r IT '°
tLT^:.r^^i:.- ' -- -- '«^ oTd^mii^tJrrd™
Gaul.,- r "But I crbe'h/.f"" •'" '' ^Mstone." explained
" You nfM nif K ^ ^8-iin m the afternoon."
Hou^e "or r^DoTnil^lVeTan T "'"i ?^^" >" "" *-
with the queen TheiirntK '^''''' ""'' """ *at I dine
May one ask if vour i™,™L "5 ^"^""^ '°' ^ ^ay or two.
"Both^re^liS thi abhT " °" ''"'""^'^ °' pleasure ?"
ya^ed'aglr""" "■■'' " ^'=^P^ 8'^"^^ "P «he street, and
he:;woTomTaniXCod pt" "^ Sr^'',' '' "^ '^' -"
is there nowhere th-if v™fn.i^o Heavens ! my dear abbe,
"A thousand pal'nsmvlod'''s';r''' "".""Z '""'= '<"='
his eyes fixed on?he ZlZ^X^^'ZlT-^^'''"'- ^'^^
jumjed!^ Hb^ ot'rd'^^t'o? is^i't^b^'^t '' *^ "^ ^™
eloping with some intimate iriend of yours'" ""'' ""' '""'
nised"sS'a";SaneerbuTr"'*"- J S^"^"' ' -"g'
wish you good nTght! my ?ord .' """ P"'"'"'' "'^'^''^n- I
«»gr(sarn^e"d''intoteTor''^^'" ''''^' *^ -•"'"-.
the episolett t" ■'cfown'PlidTnSI,'; ?™'h ^™-" ^'^"^ -"
not aware that the occunanTs of ^h ' ?-'^ ™' consequently
Devonshire, was confoSnriM ?, ^- ?°"^8'= ''^d gone to
in two of the riders who had pnss'e7" h"« "^f? ^"'^ ^oel
conecture, to the stables ,>, "^htH "^™*<=d off, lost in
his horse. " ""= Haymarket where he kept
and' ln\S '^^i^Z nfeht'p .?"':« '", '-""don a. this hour
«uld think s£ Cd be"st L ^rtrcoi-'™""^ " °-
scnnment or from disgust " " "'' "" '-o^^^K'-'— euiier from
''"'' he muttered. "Can they have been after a
Pi
15
il
', t:
292
a Ikent Squire
pardon or a reprieve? St. John would do anything for a
face like that. The queen is at St. James's, and they were
coming from there. At a gallop, too-that looks like a
successful appeal. Otherwise, why should they hurry ? »
The abb^ started to run.
^^ " That must be stopped, at all hazards," he said to himself,
even if I have to take to the role of highwayman for the
oc'-?sion. It is unlucky they have got such a start."
The breathless abbe managed to rouse the ostler at his
hvery stables without much delay, and ordered his horse to
be instantly saddled and taken to his lodgings in the Strand
He ran on, in the meantime, to get out his pistols, and loaded
them with unusual care. This was effected just as his horse
appeared. He mounted, and set off at full gallop in the track
of the three travellers.
The latter had, in the meantime, continued their journey
with undiminished speed, although not without considerable
discomfort both to Coverdale and Noel. Muriel alone seemed
as before, insensible alike to pain or fatigue. Half-way between
Greenwich and Lartibrd Coverdale began to show signs of
entire inability to proceed farther. Noel, whose exhaustion
was not quite so compkuN noticed him more than once recline
dangerously m the saddle. The next time this occurred hi
brought his own horse alongside by a touch of the spur, and
found that Coverdale was lividly pale, and riding with his eyes
dosed. A couple of minutes later he lurched heavily against
Noel, who was luckily near enough to prevent him falling
M Jf^^r^"!^ "'^'^'' *° ^"^"^P^ to persevere farther, and
to the round ^°"t'^^t°'' ^" ^'^ ^^"^^^t unconscious state.
It happened that some small farm-buildings lay close to
he road, the nearest of these being an empty shed, with
some straw lying about. Noel half led, half carried Coverdale
through the yard gate, which Muriel opened, and round
behind a long haystack into the shed. Here he laid him
on the ground and placed a couple of dry srtcks over his
feet and shoulders, while a bundle of straw was used to proo
up his head Muriel had followed, leading their two horses
by their bridles Coverdale's was fastened to one of the
posts of the shed; and Noel, with a good deal of effort
managed to get into the saddle again.
While this was tnkinor nUnt^ xUq -/^y-d q( .- 1
coming up at a gallop 7rom the direction of LondonTas
heard. Ihe clattering of hoofs on the hard road reached
anything for a
s, and thty were
liat looks like a
iy hurry ? "
e said to himself,
iwayman for the
. start."
the ostler at his
red his horse to
igs in the Strand,
stols, and loaded
just as his horse
illop in the track
ed their journey
out considerable
iel alone seemed,
lalf-way between
3 show signs of
hose exhaustion
ban once reeling
his occurred he
of the spur, and
ng with his eyes
i heavily against
ent him falling.
ire farther, and
conscious state,
gs lay close to
ipty shed, with
rried Coverdale
;d, and round
e he laid him
sacks over his
IS used to prop
leir two horses
to one of the
deal of effort,
>f a horseman
f London was
road reached
1
U tkcnt Squire »g^
the point opposite the farm, went by without a pause and
Saulfi'/r"^"''? ^k'V" ?' ^r""- '1^^^ "d^^ ^^' ^'^''"^bbl
Gaul ler, who had taken the northern road to Maidstone
rnamly on the chance of hearing something of his quarry at
the diflTerent turnp.l - and post-houses alon| the road.
It happened that a Crayford farmer with his wife and son
were passmg through Dartford on their way to Gravesend
market about a quarter to five, and a reply from the pike
keeper there led the abb^ to suppose tha\ Muriel and^her
escort were in front of him. He therefore pressed on to
Rochester where he could learn nothing of the party Bm
thmkmg that in the dark they had probably passed uCbserved
,f hf HM^n ? ""'^^ '^' ^''' °^ ^^' ^^y to Maidstonerand;
o w it L tL'r' "P ^'^'^ '^^.'^''^ t^^^^"^^« °" 'he 'road
SertsSrts 'oTthe" to7n.'°"""'^"^ ''^'^ ^^ ^^"^^ «"^ ^
In the meantime, Muriel and Noel had resumed their
ourney at the best pace the latter could keep up. Thanks
Ti SLTforf wheT V ff r''' "^^ P^^-Pt^y forthcom^g
fiHU ' ^'^ ?°^^ t°°^ so"ie port wine, and after a
httle pressure persuaded his companion to follow his examp L
The immobility which had characterised Muriel since the r
Mnii Is ^""^ harassing journey drew towards its close
of stceedin'. in fh? ^''f '^"'•^^ 'l'^'''^' ^' '^ ^^e passSty
or succeedmg in their enterprise, had by this time changed
his rnmd, and saw no reason why Muriel, at all events should
no be able to reach Maidstone in time. Thlmoon w^
t i f n^' 'T/^ '° '^^'■^ ^'ght for travelling, and the road
S P[^se"'ed no particular obstacles
Af ?h-f ^ ,°^ ^"^ uT °^^""^d o" the way to Rochester
st n^ ret%astoV:btI^et^\f r T^^
set off on the last stage of their journey ^''""'° companions
Ihe air seemed to have changed a ll„i» ., ,u„. ,,„,..
the sky thickened, the w,nd died away, and a murky stiUnea
i
?5-|
a ikcnt Squire
l.egan to steal over the land. When they emerged upon the
higher stretches of country on the plaLu of the Downs
then consisting of almost entirely unenclosed common the
moon was smkmg fast into a thick stratum of mist Although
the sun was to rise about half-past seven, there wa as yet
no sign of dawn, and the light failed rapidly ^
An impenetrable gloom settled down over the vast and
desolate moorland, and no sound could be heard excTo^
tmck 'Th°'-.'^' !^"""' 'T ^^ '""'y ^^'" "P- the saJfd'y
rack. Ihe nders began to find a diffic -Ity in distinguishing
the roadway from the tracts of blac.cned heather whch
bordered it for several miles. The moon's disc struggled
dimly through the low-lying murk, and then disappeared ^^
Five minutes later Noel noticed with apprehension that
the roadway, which had become almost losfto s'g t ?n the
gathering darkness, was no longer under their flet The
horses were quite evidently stepping on short turf.
We have strayed from the track, I am afraid," he said
I will get down and look about. This thickness is a S v
We ought to have had the light of the dawn before now '' "^ ''
He had scarcely spoken, when his horse stepped into
some hole, and fell violently on his knees, fl ngfng Nod
to the ground head foremost. Muriel gave a 1 ttle cry leaned
rjl^s'cious' 'ZT 'y-S/-,^l^d up. and ^p'pa^e^Tly
unconscious. She dismounted and knelt beside him He
was insensible, cold, breathing feebly, and nearly ri^eless
Muriel had had some considerable eWiencfo' L S
of the hrV "^"^M^'i ^"^ y.^^°g"'^ed that this was concussTon
pfobVdying n'^ow.^ "" -'' ''' '' ^"^ "---^' -^ -«
She managed, with difficulty, to get him into a more
comfortable position, and sat down with h^s head rS
upon her knee. She realised, with a spasm of the heart hat
this disaster was fatal. It was still ve?y dark, and the 'road
miles away, and they had not met a living being since
eavmg Rochester. It was equally impossible 1o leLvl Noel
Muriel took out her watch. It was too dark to see the
time, but she opened the case and felt for the dia w th the
tips of her fingers. It was c,even o'clock. A..h...e^"d nne
hour to live. Her hands fell, and she" sat m'otionless gaz^nJ
before her with the calm of an infinite despair. ' ^ ^
merged upon the
J of the Downs,
;d common, the
mist. Although
there was as yet
er the vast and
)e heard except
upon the sandy
in distinguishing
heather which
s disc struggled
isappeared.
^prehension that
t to sight in the
heir feet. The
urf.
afraid," he said,
ckness is a pity.
;fore now."
e stepped into
, flinging Noel
little cry, leaned
and apparently
side him. He
learly pulseless,
ce of accidents
was concussion
nent, and was
1 into a more
is head raised
the heart, that
, and the road
n was probably
g being since
to leave Noel,
nee. Nothing
ark to see the
dial with the
shrDc.e had one
ionless, gazing
1^
"The tolling of a bell.'
-Page ;.'ur,.
i
f
a Ikent Squtrc
295
The horses, released from their burdens, l)egan to seek
the scanty herbage, and slowly moved to and fro, with their
noses to the ground, dragging thei.- bridles as they went,
hoon they strayed further, and were lost in the gloom. The
sound of their hoofs as they crushed the heather-stems came
more and more faintly, and then ceased altogether.
Now and again a heavy fluttering announced the passing
of a horntd owl or some other disturbed night-bird. Then,
after a pause, came the cry of a peewit, alarmed by the
browsmg horses. Far away across the moorland there was
heard at rare intervals the quack of wild ducks from some
pond or bog in a hollow of the uplands. Once a curlew
wandermg mland from the sea, startled Muriel for an instant
by Its shrill scream as it flew past overhead. Then all was
suent again.
An hour went by. The darkness had given way to a
grey twilight, and the face of the moor could be dimly
seen for a few yards around. Some rabbits stole from their
burrows close at hand, and began to nibble in fearless dis-
regard of the two motionless forms. Noel had not moved
since his fall, and lay where he had been placed, in scarcely
animate torpor. Muriel sat unconscious of her surroundings,
her face rigid and pale, and her wide-open eyes, with dilated
pupils, fixed immovably on the slowly extending horizon.
All at once a passing breath of - •, so slight as scarcely
to lift the curls that rested on he: .loulder, swept gently
over the moorland from the south-west. Borne upon it came
something that was more a tremor than a sound, afinitely
faint and distant, but solemn and prolonged. After an interval
of perfect st- ess, the same vibration again trembled for a
moment upon the air, and thon died away into silence.
It was the tolling of a bell.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
MAIDSTONE £.V f£:TE
About nine o'clock that morning the immense concourse of
people which had thronged the streets of Maidstone since
dawn, and made the neighboir-hood ot the gaol itself quite
impassable for more than an hour, began to disperse. The
morning had been so gloomy and the air so thick that not a
! ..
flINi
II : ••
296
^ "Rent Sgutre
of tt^Vx'e^r ^^^^^ --if ctory view
remainder waited aboutTn the hoDe^hL; thi h' ^'^^PP°'"ted
sufficiently for them to catch a aW^rf l u^ ^^^ "^""'^ <^^ear
before the' -guS^sSy 'n^nt^^^^^ ^^^^
down. When this wa<: nf ilcf i e^P'red and it was taken
the gaolerfLd dirappeLed wth"'^'"^^^^^ ^"^
prisoS, the mass of 'p^e^r^tors I^^^^ '^'
directions to enjoy the rest of f hi ki ? ^"^ scattered in all
which were congenial to them Thf ^ '" '^' "^"°"^ ^^^^
swings were started hnnic > • V"^ merry-go-rounds and
of th'e crrj^rl'rs and sho^^^^^^^^ uT^ H^?^^' *'^ ^°°^^^
unrolled their carpets and S^ 7k • ?J """"^ *^^ mountebanks
of the ginshL sTooH ^? ^k ^^ '^'■""''- '^^^ landlords
the usuirSnTemenf o?Thet°"^^^^^^ -^^-^"tly
get drunk for a penny and H^n^H h ' I ^r ^"^^°"^ers could
that straw to lieC;ould b:1u?nThe/^S'To\r
advantage of these privileges the ^ooH fn^tc ^ \, ^"^ ^^^^
various taverns until they^were so full ?i.. T'l^ 'TJ^^
be placed outside to accoL"oT.te"heterflL'^^^^^^ '^' ^°
une group of persons thus provided for con<;,<;fpH ^f . •
srn": ritSat" "S"*-.. w^fr^ t?c
of the town and two o^l^^IV""!"^ ^J" *" P^'i^h *'k
comparing no.eronTe e^e^o? thT^rnr"' "'^ ""^
medtiyrj" '"""'"^ ■'""■'«''' ''PPi»8 his gin witi, a
andTonLln-: rXenTe^n''""^' 1"' "° ''^''"S ^P--''
property i„ .i,e coun.f " ra.kir'lr"','''''' \»''" ■"
dying speech, let alone'a conftss^n A ' mlel'n" ^Z ""
have known better " gentleman ought to
'•'rwartaM;" "'°,^ ""^l" ''^''^'" ^^M "-^ captain,
clerk ^ ronisinslv'-arrf' f '""' 8»,iemen," explained the
noticeJf„s.hr!f' dJ^^g-^^-J-e '°ok no .ore
Not a bit more," assented one of the listeners
•■NoT'rtrnlr,^!"!'!^'"?'.""." preceded the clerk.
or even a hi^hwiy ri^S^ir^?^^'^' ^^^^^^
%'
t
satisfactory view
riie disappointed
B day would clear
e suspended body
and it was taken
le hangman and
irden inside the
i scattered in all
the various ways
ry-go-rounds and
play, the booths
the mountebanks
The landlords
wled incessantly
customers could
■ twopence, and
;ratis. To take
poured into the
benches had to
listed of captain
:ome over from
he parish clerk
nen, who were
sider the whole
had a right to
;ed of captain
"s gin with a
dying speech
and a man of
is to have no
man ought to
:aptain.
explained the
^ok no more
2d the clerk,
coining affair,
raightforward
B •Rent Squire
."'
' .1
-.1
297
murder, and caught in the act. And to be hung in chains,
The speaker added this detail of the programme as if
suggestmg a further reason why the condemned man owed
extra consideration to the persons who were good enough to
come and see his sentence carried out.
'•Where's that to be ?" asked the captain.
"At some cross-roads on a common outside Deal, as I
understand," replied the clerk. -They'll start with th^ body
as soon as the smith gets the chains and bars riveted It's
a good day's journey to Deal from here, you see "
fh A*^ ^^l' T°™^"* ?^ "^''^^ °^ ^ P^d^^'- became audible up
the street, shouting the merits and prices of his wares part of
which consisted of ballads, chapbooks, and lives of ce e^brated
crimmals. Many of the crowd could be seen investing an odd
t'he p'erTod As t"'' '^'''"""^ ?' ^^^ P°P"^^^ litefature of
he period. As he came nearer he could be heard calling
One penny !''' '^' "^"'^" •' ^^^^^^ '^'''^ «^ '^' »""SS
;; D'ye hear that, master clerk ? " asked a bystander,
cr, u^ c^A^^u^ speech!" went on the pedlar. "Dvincr
speech of Ambrose Gwynett ! Only a penny ! Just printed'
fresh from the printer's office." ju^t priniea,
" He^mLl J "^''^•'^ ^^^'^ ^ ^^•■^ • " ejaculated the clerk
He must have said summat to the chaplain. Here pedlar
give us a dying speech ! " ' P^^'^"^ '
for\^= r^^^' ^^^^""^ ^'? ^ '■°"gh folded leaflet in return
for his penny and went slowly on. The clerk took the oaoer
which was a lurid account of the supposed crime and fnrnS
Ther^snowt htT' ''^" ^'^ ^'^'''^ "^^^^'^ ^^-P^-h ?
"Well, he said nowt," bawled the pedlar in reply
by the bucoirS ' "^"'^ susceptible of acute appreciation
uy ine Ducolic m nd, and it was accordingly received with -,
guffaw from everybody except the clerk, who thrust the mner
1 reckon we'd better get under wav brother K\f " h«
-..^ .„j^tttiii cjcu aim severely.
I daresay you're right, brother Matt," he reioined « T
daresay madam Matthew Kermode will hlVe sonSg'io say
111
;!'■'
J!
ill
S
298
n ment Squire
if you're away from her apron-string too long. And I daresav
what she says will be infernally unpleasant,%nd ptnty of k
Ihat makes it agreeable to come out on a little holiday
2oesJ'tr '" Matt-monstrous agreeable-sink me f ^
Matt thrust his hands into his breeches' pockets with a
depressed a.r. His three brothers looked at him with gToomy
reproares!' " "^ '^''' '^"^P'^^^ ^'^^ '^^ ^^^P^^^"'^
"Any fool could have seen how the land lay in that
quarter," went on the captain, evidently nursing a grievance
'' And why you took upon yourself to sign articles bShfnd ou;
backs, instead of coming to us to cut you loose, beats me-
clean beats me, it does."
The unhappy Matt was driven by the severity of the^e
criticisms to an attempt to defend himself.
h.ry''" se/' ^fother Kit," he remarked deprecatingly, "she
has a wonderful persuading sort of way with her. And she
tTprotTct her°i!^''"' ^''"^ '° ^^^ ^^°"' ^°^ ^""^ ^^ ^ "^^^
/'Listen to that!" muttered the captain, waving his arms
with a gesture of measureless contempt. ^
"And the berth seemed very comfortable, you'll admit"
continued the culprit. ^ '
f. 'I y^ y ^o'^fo'-taWe for a customer, and all the more com-
fortable If he s a deaf customer," said the captain. " If you'd
stopped at that, one needn't have said a word. But to eo
countir— ''''^' '"'^"'"'^ °^ '"""'"^ ^°' y°"' ^'^"°^ °^^^ the
At this stage words failed the speaker, and he got up to
mingle with the crowd in the thoroughfare. His half-brothers
followed him m sympathetic silence, with the much-enduring
Matt bringing up the rear. "umig
A gentleman, who had mounted his horse in the tavern-vard
was coming out of it as the brothers reached the centre of
he street. Re rode at a walking pace, and seemed to be
awaiting some arrival from the direction of the gaol His
overcoat collar was turned up to his ears, and he wore his
tVfu \urn^'l^^^' ^' '^ ^°"^d ^<^" be carried. This
was the abbd Gault.er, who had completed his journey to
Maidstone without encountering any of Coverdale's party.
He had mingled with the crowd round the "niio-- ,,^.-i J^
drop lell, and had spent the intervening time, for reasons of
his own, in hard drinking. .
And I daresay
id plenty of it.
I little holiday
—sink me if it
pockets with a
im with gloomy
I the captain's
d lay in that
Jg a grievance.
:les behind our
se, beats me —
I'erity of the^^e
catingly, "she
ler. And she
rant of a man
ving his arms
you'll admit,"
le more com-
n. " If you'd
. But to go
^uor over the
he got up to
i half-brothers
luch-enduring
e tavern-yard,
the centre of
seemed to be
te gaol. His
he wore his
arried. This
s journey to
■dale's party.
)r reasons of
a ment Squire 299
oth^r ThrT°l^^^ passers-by noticed him, and nudged each
fn^; ^ ^^^'u "^ •' P"^ °^ ^^^'^' ^"d he pointed out Gaultier
to Kermode with a jerk of his thumb. '-'auiuer
" That's the man he pointed at," said the clerk in the caotain'.
ear. " I was standing close to him " ^
;; I saw nothing," replied the captain.
Didnt you? Why, when the prisoner came on to the
gallows-or was earned, for he seemed more dead than alive
mark you-he took a sort of careless look round, and some^
thmg seemed to catch his eye just behind m^ tT.«« k
straightened himself up, and /ung'out h s Trm wfth h^Lt
pomtmg-this sort of way, d'you tee ? "--and the clerk suld
he action to the word-" his other hand stretched out to the
I asCe'y'ou.''^' '^'' " ' "^^ ^^^' ^^^^ ^^ blooVrun 'co ^
his cleel'^^"'' ""' ''^" '"'^ '^' ^^P^^'"' ^"^"'"g the quid in
" Ay, it was," went on the rlerlr "t fi,..„^j j
fircf ^r^^ u ^^ had had a sort of grin on his face at
had gone; buf thaf s h?m againZ tte ht e"'" ^'™8'"'« ■"=
ihe captam pointed towards the gaol
Something's going on there," he said.
towa'r Th" 'i"of "t": laTe^ '^'rr' ^^^^ ^" ^'-^ions
were put out of windows and Z ''"'^ '^T ""^P^'^^' heads
were deserted i^ a trS The V^T"? F^^""' of amusement
body was coming! Ind the s^eef l^^ ^''" ^'^''^^^ ^hat the
minutes almost impassable ' ^''""'^ '" " ^^"P^^ ^^
of The' ga^TTard"^ Thl '"'"^'^' ^'"^^^^'^ ^^°«^ ^he side door
secured by certain iron hnr.,?-^ ^^"i^ ^'^^'^ ^'o'h, and
vehicle joLd over the ^o ,. h ""^'' ^^'"^ ^'^"^^ed as the
t / . "v^^'oe rough pavemeni. A oo,„jp ^r .u ,
bXeTeTepJesettati'verof*""^ ^^^'^ ""^ '^'^ ;;ik;d
an opening ^CTt\,1o>Ti:\:tZ°r^J:. -^'^-
i»
300
4l>
I
Wr
a Itcnt Sgutie
soo?Lt;'edTb';^J^^^^^^^ broth-, ,ere
spectators. It was Miti^i n ? ^Al^ ^^^y'"g '"ass of
/ght of her,'a„TlookeT'ha^. rSi ,I''Lt''L""«l'H'
anJg™St rept' """' '' *'"™'' "'"' "^^ ^'"^ "> "'m,
.0 droH srel,:t ir.- ''"" ^''^ '°* ■•" ^ bad way-ready
and^'Sj'd^rU; rged eyeT^oLS""" "■'' ''^^ -- f^"^".
yoJa^k'^ee^oro^S/rdV^'T^e^'lt^^^^^^
'^if *ar',tT"^V.P r ='-'™ w" rds ,he gaol,
whip ' "■* P"'°"' ^he asked, pointing \i,i,
"Yes, mistress," replied the clerk.
I must go there."
ius:p.^■'i^4^tr'rs;•te'?"^•'"'=''^^-
with a^o^'oCS'd'rr ''"*'- ""''"'^"--^ f"™"'ns
an;L\%rKerodr""Miytasr^:„?r*'<' "'^*''' '"
he^. inquired of Muriel, XltrZlstTST^'i:
her^'gr on thfg:^,"''" ™«"^'^ '« » "">■»»'. »<i 'hen fixed
th^e'pToIlleluld'Kpt .^'' discontentedly. "I wish
II Ambrose, mistress? what Ambrose ? »
^ Ambrose Gwynett, sir. Will vou kindi" a^u .u ,
to iet me pass ? " ' -'-'^w •*-"' incac people
Muriel glanced fretfully over the gathering throng, which
her
-but
brothers, were
was obliged by
ait till the way
roman, coming
reet, and found
waying mass of
abb^ caught
ie if he could
blocked at the
bimself behind
es.
onfidentially,
3 close to him,
id way— ready
> were parted,
rowd with an
lickened, and
ystanders.
lerk, " unless
he gaol.
^g with her
nistress — but
ad furrowing
the clerk in
I, mistress ? "
^ to keep it
d then fixed
'. "1 wish
ucse people
"ong, which
H fkcnt Squire 301
had been doubled within the last minute by various persons
running round through the side streets and entering the main
road a little ahead. The clerk looked aghast.
" Good Lord, ma'am ! " he ejaculated, •* you're the day
after the fair — Ambrose Gwynett is "
Kermode clapped his hand brusquely over the clerk's
mouth.
"Hold your jaw, mate," he growled under his breath.
Then he turned to Muriel, and asked commiseratingly,
" Do you happen to know Ambrose Gwynett, mistress ? "
"He IS my betrothed," replied Muriel. "I want to see
him. I must see him."
" Lord ! Lord ! " muttered the captain, turning a lugubrious
face towards his half brothers. " This is a bad job— a terrible
bad job. Let's get her out of the road, boys. She mustn't
see anythmg of that trolley yonder, and it will be here in a
couple of mmutes. '
The brothers grunted an assent, and the clerk nodded his
head sympathetically.
K -^P^lfu "'' "^^^^'■ess," he said, taking the horse by the
bridle, by coming a little way out of the crowd. We're
afraid of some accident, if you keep here, and in the saddle "
Muriel allowed the horse to be led, as quickly as the throne
would permit, towards the stable-yard. Just then the pedlar*'
who had got into the tavern from the rear, elbowed his waj^
out of the front door with a fresh sheaf of leaflets in his hands
and a repetition of his former cry,
"Here you are! Here you' are! Full account of the
horrible murder at Deal ! Execution of the murderer at
eight o'clock this morning ! Only a penny ! HiT mist 'ess ''
he bawled to Muriel, who was at'the moment close oh m
"buy a dying speech? Only a penny ! Dying speech of— »
finSrs'sh^t ouf .'n? f^^/)'^y '" ^ g^^g^e as Kermode's
fingers shot out and closed m a strangling grip round his
"Stow your gab, you blethering idiot I " hissed the caotain
Zl^f^'V^ ^'^^^' ^^" ^'^ ^ '^^h rattled in hi head! aid
then flung him from him against the wall of the tavern.
Id'ot yourself!" growled the pedlar sullenly oullina hi^
disordered neckcloth and looking round to see ?f he wa f kell
to get any backers. " Is a man not to ^^t nn h.n" . i!, L!! . »^
The sheriffs procession was now abreasTof them"' Muriel
caught sight of it, and asked suddenly, ^
"What is that?" ^
ill:
i i"
302
B meat Squire
Ke'^mnHf?'^^-.'' .°" ^^^ °PP°''*^ «^d^ Of the horse to where
' Thn.1 r'^'/T"'^ •:°""d ^"d replied with alacrity?
mats the body, mistress— going to be hTina ,-« ^Ko-
you see-judge's sentence." ^ ^ ""^ '" ''^^^"«'
The pedlar saw his opportunity to get bevond K-^rmr^^oV
reach, ^and dodged round^ .he hoV Souti„7at t'^V^
"This is the body of Ambrose Gwynett ladies anrl .^^nfio
men. hung this morning for robberranVmtder" Buy a
full ^account! Buy a dying speech? One penny-only' I
Kermode devoted the pedlar to the infernal regions and
looked anxiously at Muriel, who seemed to Tave ciught
nothmg but the name of her lover caugnt
must^TehTrS"V',%f^'^^^^^^^^^^ " Is Ambrose there ? I
fTward ' ' ""^^^ ^ movement to urge her horse
vJJ""- '^^Pi^^n hurriedly turned the horse towards the stable
toed. '' '°P' ''^^ """"^^'^ ^"-^^- -"Id therebrbe
"This way. mistress— this way." he said
thil-^ T"""^"* '^^ ^^d '^'PPed to the ground and handed
the rems to a gipsy boy who stood close by ^
"soJ^er^a^^^^::;^^^^^^^^ °^ ^^^ ^^^^-^- ^-^-t.
The interest of the crowd was instantly diverted from th.
.Z^"" ^he remarkable beauty of the speaker A dozen peoole
II Yes. Where is ae ? "
"Why. here, mistress— of course."
1 [^P^'^^f'^T? his arm in the direction of the bier Muriel
looked peri^exed but went forward as the bystander; opened
a way for her almost involuntarily. The sheriff stonnedh^
remonstrances to the crowd which WblockTnfwf^^^^^
and stared open-mouthed at Muriel as she came^ towards him
The whisper was rapidly passed about that thirwas he
murderer's sweetheart, and all within reach stood on their
toes and craned their necks to see so intpre^tin^^ ^Tr— '^-
" VVhat can I do for you. mistress ? " asked t1ie sheriFwlth
a politeness born of mingled surprise and admiration '
orse to where
lacrity,
ng in chains,
id Kermode's
at the top of
!s and gentle-
der ! Buy a
;nny — only a
regions, and
have caught
>se there? I
rge her horse
Is the stable-
i thereby be
and handed
iers in front.
ed from the
iozen people
Jarty turned
rocession to
d the pedlar,
ier. Muriel
iers opened
stopped his
lis advance,
)wards him.
is was the
)d on their
sheriff, with
n.
<(
«>
a Ikent Squire 303
'It is Ambrose, sir," replied Muriel, her eyes wanderine
round. "I want to see him." ;' => wdnaermg
" Certainly, mistress, if you've a fancy that way," replied the
sheriff m an obligmg tone. cpueu cne
He went to the front of the bier, raised the black cloth that
lay over the body, and uncovered the head and shouWers o
Ambrose Gwynett. A sudden silence followed and a tlirH
ran through the bystanders at the sight of thrrn^rWe feature
splendid m the.r still repose, and\earing arexpLss^ro^
nfinite calm. Not a whisper was heard as MurieT with a
httle start bent forward and seemed to call softly to her lover
The sheriff looked on rather puzzled, until he caught S
of Kermode winking at him and tapping his forehSd He
l^X^eX '"' """"^ turned''to1.im an'safd und^e?
"He is asleep. Why is he asleep ? »
The sheriff was rather disconcerted by this Question nn^
scratched h.s head in the search for inspLtfon.^^Thrcro^d
looked at one another, and some women began to crv The
captain's attention was so fixed upon Muriel thoffh; •
^^n^rotdT^Sl^-^^^^^^
on."%"yTr k/v'e— ^kn^'t"^ V^'"^ "^ ^-^ be getting
the cloth ^"*^ ^^ "'^^^ ^ movement to replace
ha^d'onThe'doIh" ^^"^^^^ ^^^ ^ " -^ed Muriel, putting her
kissed i[. ' ^^^^- ^^^" she leaned over and
and'^bl^bte^^dtudly^a^l sTve^Zf^tr '^' T^' '^'^ ^^^
as women, followed his examoTe tL 'k'T^' T" ^' ^^"
the cloth, and made a sign To ^his men Thl^h" '^ ''""^'''^
the bier forward, and Muriel wi/h ?^' ^^ ^^^^" *° P"^^
puzzled expression upon ht fet SedT'T^- ^"^ ''^^^
crowd kept the party comnanvnnH Zu . ^^''^^ '^- '^^e
left nearly empty ^^"^P'lny. and the street was gradually
One of the few spectators of the scene v^hr. ■ ^
behind was Gaultier Th*. nhu^ v l ^"° remained
tuuier. ihe abb^, hvid and trembling all
mil
I
MiHi^
304
H Ikent Squire
over ordered his horse to be put up again, and re-entered
the tavern parlour. He was just ripening for one of his occa-
sional bouts of furious drinking, and the events of the morninc
brought matters to a climax. He flung his hat down, fell into
a seat, and ordered a bottle of brandy
from t Sead""'" ''"'"°'' "" "'"'"« '"^ ""'P'""™
" Thank the Lord ! that's over," he said fervently " It's
spoiled my appetite for the next week, sink me if it hasn't
1 ve seen many a poor devil with his toes turned up, but banc
me if anything ever cut me up like this. What a wench, boys 1
what a wench ! " ' ^^joi
Matt blew his nose, wiped his red eyes, and remarked,
Ihe poor lass must have had her wits turned by the news
It's a mortal pity." '
The captain seized upon this opportunity of turning the
conversation into a less lu^'ubrious channel.
"There's one good job. Matt," said he. « Vour widow
wouldn't make anybody blubber with her goings on, if you
were ^ be hung twice over. Let's all have a drink, and mkke
sail. It will be dark before we get to port "
The family party made their way to the bar parlour, where
Gaultier was sitting by the window with his bottle and glass
nlZ7'fr ,H^' '^^^'S ^°°^ ^""' ^^^^"^^^d by the incident
on the scaffold, and still more shaken by the circumstances
attending Muriel's appearance on the scene, had taken little
or no notice of Kermode and the brothers. But as they
entered It recurred to his memory that these were the persons
who had left the door of the 'Crown and Anchor' just as
he arrived at it on New Year's Eve. He had taken care to
beat a retreat from Deal the morning after Gwynett's arrest
without making himself known, and Ld also XJned Tom
presenting himself as a witness at the trial-both these steps
being a result of the belief that he had done enough to render
Gwynetts conviction a foregone conclusion independently
of his own testimony. This view had of course proved
^i^^'T °"? i""^ ^^^ ri"^^"" ^^^ g°"^ ^"to the box primed
with the widely circulated report of the abbe's original story
altnough It was not in the least in evidence ; and had privaS
Sti™ a^one^; "^"^ °" '^' ^'^'"^^^ °^ '^'' ^"8^"*°"'
Gaultier's chief anxiety in all this had been to avoid the
slightest overt connection with the fate of his rival, as being
md re-entered
ne of his occa-
jf the morning
down, fell into
le perspiration
/ently. " It's
e if it hasn't.
up, but hang
wench, boys !
marked,
: by the news.
' turning the
Vour widow
s on, if you
nk, and make
arlour, where
tie and glass
' the incident
nrcumstances
1 taken little
But as they
i the persons
chor' just as
aken care to
'nett's arrest,
frained from
I these steps
gh to render
idependently
urse proved
box primed
riginal story,
lad privately
at ingenious
avoid the
^al, as being
a IRent Squire 305
more than likely to add to Muriel's prejudice against him
even if she were led by force of appearances to be convinced
of Gwynetts guilt. He was therefore not at all desirous of
being recognised by the Kermodcs as a visitor to the ' Crown
and Anchor' on the night of the supposed murder, and
consequently kept his back to the party as they gave their
order and sat emptying their glasses.
By and-by their chaise was brought round, and they took
their departure. Ihe abb^, more at his ease, proceeded with
his bottle, and kept a careless eye on what was passing out-
hoi^i. ^^°"^ f" ^fV^^^\' ^^^'' ^^^'"g ^"te^ed upon another
bottle, he noticed the clerk coming down the street from
the gaol, walking alongside a chaise-and-pair in which sat an
elderly gentleman who looked completely broken down by
gnef or illness. The clerk seemed to be giving him an account
of the events of the morning, and they parted company jus
opposite the tavern. The landlord was at the door and
touched his hat. The gentleman nodded, s^ned to tSe
dSp^'earid. "'' °" '" '^' ^'''''''''' °^ ^^^'' ^"^ '^^ chaise
.k"i^^^? T ^''^V" t^^ <^haise, host?" asked the abbd as
the landlord passed through the parlour a minute afterwards.
Lawyer Wrottesley of Canterbury, sir," replied the host
' He IS agent for the Thornhaugh estate-the propen^^^^^^^
longing to the man w4io was hung this morning. ^ Eve S^^^^^^
has been wondering why he was not at the trial.'' ^^'^y'^oay
rr.} 1 ' '"5.;"!f ^'°" "^{"^ "°^ particularly interest the abbd. He
merely nodded in reply, and the landlord, not finding himself
sTSt'ii-dts. ''' ^"^""^ ^' ''^ ^^^' - -vaUg 'o
The sheriff's men transferred their burden to the cart «nr1
the «'q"-on Th-Y- r - ^^ ^° accompanv them in
come bv^he c2rlf ' "''""•■' ^° ''''' P^^P^^^l were over-"
tow'a^ds'De'al.^^" he VeclafoVol '^H ^^''^^^-"^^ ^"^^ °^
ine spectators of the morning, who had
20
I' ..
306
H Ikciit Squire
accompanied the bier so far, returned at their leisure to
Maidstone.
♦ • • * ♦
At about seven o'clock the same night, on a dreary waste
of common near some cross-roads to the west of the outskirts
of Deal, a gibbet rose darkly against the first fiiint liglit of the
moon, glinmiering through thick mists. From its outstretched
arni hung a curious framing of rings and horizontal bars, in
which was fixed the motionless form of Ambrose Gwynett,
the head bent forwards and the face hidden by the long
hair which had been blown over it by a passing breeze. On
the ground beneath, covered with a black cloth, lay Muriel
Dorrington. Her arms clasped the foot of the gibbet, and
she seemed asleep, unconscious, or dead. The sky was heavy
with low-lying clouds, and gusts of wind swept at intervals over
the inky solitude. I hen the gibbet creaked, and its burden
swung slowly to and fro till the failing of the wind brought it
to rest again.
CHAPTER XXXIX
AT THE CROSS-ROADS
Captain Kermode and the four brothers arrived at the
' Crown and Anchor ' a little before sunset. They had
dined at Canterbury, lest a worse thing should befall them,
and the captain — mollified by his meal and a jorum of
excellent Schiedam — had volunteered to escort the truant
Matt to the tavern, instead of betaking himself with the three
juniors to the Royal Mary.
But it fortunately happened that madam Matthew Kermode
was in a very amiable mood when the party presented them-
selves on their return, and there appeared to be no particular
need for the sheltering aegis of the valiant captain. The
latter had his own explanation of this fortunate circumstance,
and he imparted it in an early aside to Matt.
"Your wife has had some old sweetheart spooning with
her all day, brother Matt," said he pleasantly.
" D'ye think so, brother Kit ? " asked Matt with earnestness.
" I do, lad," replied the captain.
"Let's find hmi, and stand treat," suggested Matt, in a
burst of gratitude.
i"S!l
their leisure to
a dreary waste
of the outskirts
Lxint light of the
its outstretched
izontal bars, in
ibrose Gwynett,
sn by the long
ing breeze. On
oth, lay Muriel
the gibbet, and
J sky was heavy
at intervals over
and its burden
wind brought it
arrived at the
;t. They had
Id befall them,
d a jorum of
ort the truant
with the three
:thew Kermode
resented them-
e no particular
captain. The
circumstance,
spooning with
ith earnestness.
;d Matt, in a
'i
^i
a mcnt Squire 307
"Don't trouble about that, brother Matt. If he's kept
sober up to now, he must be as big a fool as they make 'em
Come mto the bar— we shall have no peace till we've snun
our yarn and got done with it." *
^ It is needless to state that the whole establishment of the
Crown and Anchor,' together with a numerous contingent
of outsiders who crowded the tap- room, were all agog to hear
the details of the execution, and a certain amount of sympathy
was elicited by the brothers' story of the events of the morning
bince the trial, public opinion in Deal had rather receded
Irom the first enthusiastic conviction of Gwynett's guilt
After it had been found that the supposed assassin was a
well-to-do landowner of the county, instead of an unknown
passer-by, the theory that a flagrantly incautious crime had
been commuted for the sake of a (ev^ guineas appeared a
httle improbable. The accused's own version of his posses-
sion of the purse began, therefore, to be considered by the
village gossips quite as likely an explanation as any other
Had Gwynett been assisted by counsel at his trial, the obvious
absence both of motive and of the cor/us de//ai~the body of
his supposed victim-might have been made to turn the
scale in his favour But this did not happen to be the case
When committed for trial, which was a proceeding despatched
w.«f n'J '"'T'' ^'y '^' ^""''^ J"«^'^^ «^ ^'^^ peace, Cnett
was not sufficiently recovered from his serious injuries to
reply to questions or even understand them. On his removal
o Maidstone gaol he had given a few t.rticulars about Tim
self and had requested that Mr. Wrottesley should be sent
for to advise him about his defence.
But the Canterbury lawyer had never made any appearance
Gwynett forthwith caught gaol fcver-a most common S
of the insanitary condition of the prisons of the period-and
was either prostrated semi-unconscious, or delirious during
his imprisonment and tnal. The crown lawyers, therefore
had matters very much their own way. The udJe of th^
WhTgs ' The'; hi? ^'"'T °' '''u °""^y -re boihtnolou
w^ .u ; ^ ^'^M ''^''"''^ °'''^'' their twelfth bottle the ni^ht
before that a pestilent foreigneering Jacobite like Gwynet?was
probably a Jesuit spy of the chevalier's, and had better be
deprived of any chance of helping the traitorous Tory m n stry
m their machinations acainst fh TV..^«cto,,. ... ' :f_ '"l^^.'^y
jury-box had been packed with Whig fe;me7s wht'Jkou'^ht
to be lost , and they promptly responded to the appeal of
'*m.
\ i|
! :
308
a Tkent Squtrc
the judge that they would not, by dawdling over their verdict
of guilty, keep him from his dinner. The affair had thus
been disposed of with the least possible waste of time and
trouble to all concerned, and with quite as near an approxi-
mation to justice as was customary at the period.
It may as well be mentioned in this place that captain
Kermode had no idea that the supposed murderer and the
owner of the F/eur de Lys were one and the same person. No
name had been mentioned to him by Marlborough in their
interview at Eekeren, and as neither he nor his half brothers
could read a single word, the ship's papers furnished at Ostend
conveyed \.o them no information whatever. Had they, more-
over, felt any curiosity concerning those documents- which
did not happen to be the case — it is possible they had ex-
cellent reasons for not seeking outside assistance in decipliering
them.
After the demand for news in the bar of the ' Crown and
Anchor ' had been adequately met hv the newcomers, an
adjournment was made by some of t le regular customers to
the now famous parlour. Here the captain and his half-
brothers held a sort of reception with much dignity, and with
a readiness to drink at other people's invitation which earned
golden opinions from the landlady.
The conversation turned upon the addition to the sentence
upon the condemned man which comprised the hanging in
chains from a gibbet erected near the scene of the crime. This
feature was at the time a frequent one in cases of offences
against property, which then, even more than now, were
punished with considerably greater severity than crimes of
violence. T'.ie body of the executed criminal, instead of being
interred, was suspended in a framework of rings, bars, and
chains from the gibbet, and left there till time and the elements
brought about its gradual decay and disappearance.
Amongst the company in the parlour were two respectable
strangers who had rather the air of being bagmen or travelling
mercers, and who listened to the details of Gwynett's execution
and the removal of the body to the common with a good deal
of interest. One of them asked several questions about the
size and strength of the irons, to which the Kermodes were
not in a position to reply.
" But they'll last out the poor fellow that's in 'em," remarked
the captam. "J^or my part 1 don't see why children and
folks passing by are to be faced with that kind of show for
a dozen years or more. When a man's been scragged, there's
'er their verdict
iffair had thus
e of time and
;ar an approxi-
I.
:e that captain
derer and the
le person. No
(rough in their
is half-brothers
shed at Ostend
ad they, more-
jments- which
; they had ex-
in deciphering
le ' Crown and
lewcomers, an
r customers to
and his hulf-
gnity, and with
I which earned
to the sentence
he hanging in
e crime. This
ses of offences
an now, were
lan crimes of
1 stead of being
ngs, bars, and
d the elements
ice.
wo respectable
;n or travelling
lett's execution
th a good deal
ions about the
Lermodes were
em," remarked
children and
id of show for
ragged, there's
a f(cnt Squire
309
n?h!"i°^'* '"'"■ r'.?'' ^"'^ ^^'^'^ ^"g'lt to be an end of it for
other
people, say I
nearly
I've known a man hanging on Bagshot Heath
twenty years,' commented one of the bagmen.
I hats a goodish time," said the captain. "You're from
those parts, I reckon ? " * "" re irom
replied, ^''^"'''"' ''^'"" '"'^''''"^ ^ nudge from his companion,
"No. I come from Portsmouth, like my friend here."
The captain nodded and filled his pipe.
backionl^:th'■:^^^^^^^^ '° ""'^^^■'^- "^'-''-y« to the
"This fellow may be swinging there just as lone for ill
we know," remarked the bag.mn, lifting his glass to ht Z
air at th'P'"" '^'^'"'"^^ ^° h^^^ his 'tumbler of gin hf the
a r at the same uouu nt, and looking past his thunib his half
^^Zr^'%r --"^^'^k^^^le -n'k passing b"twe?the
h»'. ., ■ . ''^^ ^""' 'he fellow mean by winkinir when
tfan "T# T' ■J"-,'«''=d himself with jusMable MTma
Za^Ml^r" " ""''" "^^'S""^" slop, 'smelling af.X
abot su rte on" Th7*' f'"" ^■''^' ''^» Ccesar'f: fe S
had 1„T7.o'°gh. an'd «;'"£'; loll""' """ ''^ ''™''''"
of rlarp^ frr.r^ [\ c "^ ^° "^^ '" runnmg a carco
A God-forsaken sort of hole," added the sneaUpr « tu
were some cottages thero in oIh ,.""^° P"^ speaker. There
'he ..und now.« '^^ ^^^ ^ ^'^^ «<*
'J
Hi '
310
a ikcut sauite
i'\ii
no one lived there afterwards. The place has got a baddish
name — they say boggarts* walk there."
** I wouldn't go nigh a hole like that at night for a hundred
pounds," said the bagman.
The captain intercepted another wink, and decided in his
own mind that the speaker was lying again.
"The fellow's trying to gammon us," he reflected. "Why,
I should like to know? Unless it comes natural to him,
perhaps, being a cockney."
It was now about half-past nine o'clock, and the usual
practice of the tavern was to close about ten. The two
bagmen seemed inclined to remain as long as they could, and
the captain thought he might as well find out where they
were going to spend the night.
" It's queer weather," he remarked, d propos of nothing.
"The wind has gone down, and it seems getting muggy
again."
" That's so," said the bagman.
"You gentlemen won't have much moon, if so be that you're
travelling," hazarded the captain sleepily.
" Not we," said the bagman promptly. " We've got a
lodging in the town. Going on to Sandwich to-morrow
morning."
" Ay, ay," nodded the captain with a yawn,
A couple of minutes afterwards he lounged out of the
parlour, leaving his hat ostentatiously on the table, and went
into the stable-yard. He looked about and noticed a small
cart, between the shafts of which a pony was being coaxed
by the ostler.
" Bill," said the captain, " did you happen to notice a
couple of bagmen-looking fellows come in an hour ago —
both of 'em in the parlour now?"
The ostler touched his forelock to the landlady's brother-in-
law, and nodded.
"Ay, captain," he replied, "this is their cart. I've just
been giving the pony a feed — they want him again as soon as
bar closes."
"They do, do tho;y? " said the captain.
" Ay — said they'd got a goodish spell of a journey before
'em to-night."
" Tust so." reolied the rantain meditativplv.
He took the ostler's lantern, and looked into the cart. In
the bottom was a large piece of tarpaulin, which covered a
* Ghosts,
1
?ot a baddish
for a hundred
!ecided in his
:ted. " Why,
tural to him,
nd the usual
n. The two
ey could, and
t where they
s of nothing.
2tting muggy
be that you're
We've got a
;h to-morrow
I out of the
Ae, and went
ticed a small
jeing coaxed
to notice a
hour ago —
's brother- in-
rt. I've just
in as soon an
•urney before
the cart. In
h covered a
I
a ment Squire
3"
sack. He put his hand on a bulging protuberance which
distended the end of the sack, and felt several hard objects.
These he drew out, and found to be a dark lantern and a
set of tools, the latter comprising a file, hammers, cold chisel,
and saw. He put these articles back, covered up the sack,
and cogitated while the ostler went into the stables.
"Cockneys, from Portsmouth," he soliloquised. "Got to
make a long journey in a pony-cart to their lodging in the
town. Wouldn't go near a poor harmless devil on a gibbet
for a hundred pounds. A dark lantern for a moonlight ni^ht.
A set of blacksmith's tools, and regular white hands like a
parson's — I saw 'em."
The captain looked again at the cart and its contents, and
whistled softly. Then he suddenly s'apped his thigh as if
the solution of the problem had dawned upon him.
" That's it I " he ejaculated under his breath—" that's it '
Snatchers, by the Lord ! "
This was the term used at the period to denote the indivi-
duals whose avocation lay in supplying subjects for dissection
to the medical men and students at the great hospitals in
London and elsewhere, and who were popularly credited with
an entire absence of inconvenient scruples as to the means
they took to obtain their stock-in-trade.
"I've a mind to stop that little game," went on the captain,
soffo voce. "It's bad enough for a poor devil not to have
decent burial, without being sliced up and pickled by a crew
of d— -d sawbones. As fine a figger of a man as ever I
clapped eyes on, too.'
He went after the ostler, and addressed him in a low
voice.
" Bill," he said, " d'ye know the place where that gibbet has
been stuck up ? "
'' Course," replied Bill. " I was there seeing 'em at it."
How far is it by the road ? "
"Two mile ; and as bad a bit as you like."
•* Is there any shorter cut for a man on his Ic^s ? »
common."^ ' ^°" '''''' '''''^ *''" "''"''^''' ^^'^ ^^ ^'°'''"g ^^^
.lP^''''.f•*'''''•'"^V''"^'! P^'-^'culars, and was furnished with
r^ltTS mT"°"' ^y 't' °^^^^''"- Promising the latter a half-
pint to hold his tongue, he crossed the yard to the tavern and
entered the passage leading from the parlour J the kitchen
Here he encountered the chambermaid, a strapping west-
country wench nearly six feet high. ^ ^
1
Mf
i
"!
31a
a ir^ent Squire
" Whisht, Peggy ! " he whispered mysteriously.
"What is it, captain?" asked the girl from close to the
ceiling.
" Just pass your ear this way, Peggy, or else wait till I can
get a few steps upstairs. I want a word with you."
The girl stooped somewhat after the manner of a giraffe
feeding, and brought her ear alongside the captain's mouth.
A whispered colloquy ensued, which ended in the chambermaid
disappearing upstairs, while the captain waited in the passage.
A minute or two afterwards the girl came down with a good-
sized bundle, tied up in a dark shawl. The captain took the
bundle, laid it for a moment under a table in the passage, and
went back to the parlour.
The two supposed bagmen were still sitting betore the fire,
and evidently intended to stay until the tavern was closed for
the night. The captain took ud his hat and remarked to his
half-brothers that they'd have the tide against them if they
did not look sharp. Matt was about to point out that the
ebb would run for an hour yet, but the captain silenced him
by a furtive kick under the table. The other three brothers
finished their liquor, put on their sou'-westers, and after
nodding a good night to the other guests, followed their
kinsman obediently out of the parlour.
The rest of the company remained a few minutes later, as if
loth to leave the genial warmth of the two wood fires. But
the landlady presently came in to announce the hour of
closing, and the room gradually emptied.
The two bagmen were the last to leave, and they took a
parting nip in the bar before sallying out into the yard. Then
they put on their greatcoats, wrapped their necks up in thick
mufflers, and got into their cart with many maledictions on
the necessity for leaving such comfortable quarters. The
vehicle drove off down the dark street, and the tavern people
went to bed.
Twenty minutes later, the cart stopped at the cross-roads on
the common. The night air had become mild a- l still, and
the moonlight came in faint and fitful gleams th ough a thin
mist which had floated in from the sea. The two men got
down, took out their tools, and lit the lantern. Then they
hitched the pony to a bush by the wayside, and began to
stumble through ^the gorse and heather to^ the little rising
ground, about a hundred and fifty yards off, on which stood
the gibbet.
When they had gone about half the distance one of them,
''■'}
a
^l
, f
I'
U IRcnt Squire
3*3
1 close to the
wait
till I can
tr of a giraffe
ptain's mouth,
i chambermaid
n the passage.
1 with a good-
ptain took the
e passage, and
)eiore the fire,
was closed for
^marked to his
them if they
t out that the
silenced him
;hree brothers
rs, and after
bllowed their
ites later, as if
od fires. But
the hour of
1 they took a
yard. Then
ks up in thick
ilcdictions on
uarters. The
tavern people
iross-roads on
an>I still, and
h rough a thin
two men got
Then they
md began to
little rising
which stood
one of them,
K'
looking up, noticed something which brought him to a sudden
halt.
"Matey," he said, clutching his companion's arm, and
pointing towards the gibbet, "what's that?"
The other stopped and looked in the direction indicated.
In the foggy gloom something round and white, about five
feet high, could be dimly seen under the pendent form of the
executed man.
" Blowed if I know," he replied, in a puzzled tone. " It's
going now — look ! "
At this moment the white object began to diminish gradually
in size, and seemed to remain suspended in air a few feet from
the ground.
" That's queer," observed the first speaker. " Good Lord !
see there ! " he went on, in an alarmed tone, pointing to his
left.
A little way off across the common, but nearer than the
gibbet, another white form could be seen slowly rising from
the dark moor. This extended upwards till it seemed about
seven feet high, and began to move forwards.
" It's coming this way, hang me if it isn't," cried the second
snatcher, his teeth beginning to chatter. " And that other's
there again — look ! "
The globular form by the gibbet re-appeared, and something
like a pair of arms emerged from it, and waved slowly about.
At the same moment a third shape became visible on the
right, much nearer, and blocking the way of retreat to the
pony-cart.
" I'm d- — d if the place isn't alive with 'em," said the first
man, m trembling tones, as he dropped the sack and the tools.
"Boggarts, Jack!" whispered the other, grasping his
companion to prevent his legs giving way under him—
"boggarts, as I'm a living sinner!"
While he was speaking, a fourth form came out of the
darkness almost in their faces, and shot up to a height of about
nine feet, while a low, smothered wail became audible. This
was echoed by a blood-curdling squeal from the other spectres
which began to advance upon the two horrified spectators!
Ihe chains on the gibbet clanked, and the suspended body
careered wildly to and fro in the still air.
This was the last straw. Tht^ mmivc^^H c«ofoh.^~o „,.jj i..
recovered the use of their limbs and lungs, and fled with yells
of terror across the common to the road, along which they
tore at break-neck speed until they had left the cross-roads a
m
iu
a IRcnt Squire
couple of miles behind in the darkness. The pony, meanwhile
stood peacefully in the shafts of the trap, nibbling at the turf
by the wayside.
The three tall spectres went back to the gibbet, where
captam Kermode was engaged in rolling up a sheet.
"How did you manage that trick, brother Kit?" asked
Luke, as the brothers divested themselves of their white
coverings.
" I just pulled the shawl over me from the ground up to
my neck,' explained the captain. "That walking-stick of
yours came in uncommonly well, Luke. The way the sheet
shot up was enough to scare our J^oja/ Mary's figgerhead "
1 he captain took the hook of his own stick out of the right
boot of the swmging body, and prepared to depart.
\\ hat became of the pony-trap ? " he asked. « Did they
go off with It ? " r
II a'h^ *u^^V '^P"^"^ ^^"''^- " It'-'' '■" the road there."
All the better," said the captain. "Finding's keeping.
MakfstoJe"^"" ' ^ '"P^'°'^' ^^'" P''^ ""' ^^V^^£^ to
He looked up at the gibbet, and took off his hat.
' Good night, skipper," he observed seriously. "We've
done you a friendly turn, although you don't know it. Here's
better luck to you, wherever you are. Come along, lads."
CHAPTER XL
THE ABBE VISITS WRAY COTTAGE
The abb^ Gaultier remained in the parlour of the tavern at
Maidstone all day, drinking steadily. The landlord was
anxious to show every respect to so estimable a customer,
and came in from time to time to .ay him the compliment
of keeping him company. The abb^ was at first somewhat
slow to express any appreciation of this courtesy. But towards
evening he seemed to become rather tired of his own society
and took the opportunity of ordering a fresh bottle of brancly
to mvite his host's company in attacking it.
The landlord was nothing loth. At the abba's request he
'nu7. f .> i"f;-^'-^ ^^ V" 'he uiblc, ana went out to fetch a
glass for himself During his absence Gaultier moved his
arm-chair from the table to the fireplace, lit a fresh pipe with
U Ikeiit Squire
31S
a cinder, and took his seat again. Another arm-chair was
drawn up to the farther end of the table. Something in the
direction of this chair seemed to attract Gaultier's attention
as he was pouring out a fresh glass, and the landlord, coming
in, found him staring very intently at it. Then he shrugged
his shoulders, emptied his glass, and motioned to the landlord
to take a seat by the fire.
The host brought forward one of the chairs standing against
the wall, and placed a tall stool between himself and the abb^,
on which to rest the bottle of brandy, a jug he had brought
with him, and their glasses. He helped himself to a mixture
of spirit and water, and held out his glass towards the abb^.
"Sir, 1 have the honour to drink your very good health,"
he said ceremoniously.
The abbd touched glasses, and looked past the landlord
towards the end of the table. His right hand fell slowly
to his knee, and he pointed with the other to the arm-chair.
" Whom have you there ? '' he asked, in a low tone.
The host turned round, and then back again.
" Where, sir ? " he asked, looking rather surprised.
The abba's fixed gaze relaxed. He rubbed his eyes, and
turned to the fire again.
" I beg your pardon," he said. " I thought someone was
sitting there. It was some flickering from the fire, no doubt."
The landlord remarked that it was curious what effects
came from lights and shadows, and he poked the log on
the hearth vigorously to make a blaze. The two companions
drank and conversed for some little time. Presently the host
noticed Gaultier staring at the arm-chair, much as he had
done before.
"That fellow's there again," said the abb^, pointing
his pipe. "Wake him up, landlord."
The host turned round, and sav; nothing.
"Who do you mean, sir?" he asked. "There's no
in the bar just now."
Gaultier took his eyes off the arm-chair, and looked at the
landlord with rather a puzzled air.
" I could have sworn, for the moment, there was someone
in that chair leaning over the table," he said. "It's very
curious."
" Very, sir," agreed the host, who
with
one
began
to feel a littU
uncomfortable,
sighted."
"Not I," replied the abb^, knocking the ashes out
Perhaps you happen to be a bit short-
f liis
■I;
. .*
It,.
lit '
1
if
3^
3»6
a Ikent Squfre
" But I'm accustomed to
I find this light rather
pipe, and puttiri;> in a fresh charge,
plenty of candl.;s at night, and
indifferent."
host,^r?sing^'''' '"°'^"' ''"^'^' '''' '^ y°" P^^^*^^ '^'" «^id the
" By all means," said the abbd
The landlord went out, and did not return immediately
Gault.er looked once or twice at the table, hu, saw m thS'
and rather wondi.red at his previous impression. H^ snokeT]
mmutes. 1 hen, urged by some irresistible imtrulse, he turned
round and looked again at the ,i>rm-chair
'^fa^f-'"' iu ^\ "•'^"^'•ed. " I was right, after all."
beated m the chair was a !orm-whether of a man or a
woman he could not be quite s.,re- vith tha head bariJin
Its arms outstretched across the ;.ble. Ii seemed prvelotd
in a darK cloak. The abbd gazed fixedlv at th-s figure for a
few seconds, und then remarked to him.'^eh; ^
i iiat landlord is evidently blind drunk"
At ^iis >nomen. the host returned with another candle
:^:^^^S^ on the table. Gaultier pointed to the^g^:;
" H.':, ihere, you see. Why don't you turn him out ? »
uns time the host was seriously disturbed
. Hang ,t all, sir!" he complained, " vou're enough to
give a man the creeps. There's no one in ti,e room but our
selves ; I told you so before."
The abbd got up, and walked slowly towards the figure
As he approached the arm-chair, he became gradually aware
that It was empty, and that there was nothing on the X
HrIli'-'^^"'Tr*° ^'''.'^'■' y^"'"^^ had a Httle nap and been
tTl'. ^^y°"'' ''''^' ""^ ^^°"^d like a bed here to-night
we can find you one with pleasure." ^ '
The abbe reseated himself, and looked at the empty chair
with a dissatisfied expression. ^ ^ ^^
Here's 'fguinea"'"'" '^ "''• "^"^ ^^'"S -other bottle.
nn?'^ ^?f ^ ''^"\ °"^ ^""^ ^''"'^^^d ^o his wife that if it were
th.^.T"'' °^ ^"l'""i'' '^"'^ J"^' ^' ^o*^" the gentleman [n
. ,!,^ -itu^c. i)UL the guinea m hand and rh^
prospect of another or two in future, wefe not to be disregarded
lightly. So having arranged for a bedroom 'or the gulst, he
a "Rent Squire 317
presently returned with a fresh bottle, and resumed his seat
The pair continued drinking for another hour or more
during which nothing particular occurred. Finally, the land-
lord got up, and apologised for withdrawing on the score of
following the maxim, " Early to bed and early to rise."
»Tn?^J°".^°"^^. ^'^^ ^° ^^^ yo"'" '■oo"!' sir," he went on,
1 11 show It you."
The abbe had been cogitating while the landlord was
speaking, and now responded,
" I shall not go to bed, landlord. This room is comfortable
enough. Suppose you and I sit up all night ? "
The landlord found nothing inviting in this proposal.
You do me proud, sir," he replied. "But you must
excuse me. I like my night's rest uncommonly, and it's
getting late already."
Gaultier put his hand in his pocket and pulled out another
guinea,
"Will that do instead of your feather-bed?" he asked,
holding out the money. '
The host looked at the coin, and hesitated. He liked his
ease but a guinea was a guinea. Moreover, if his guest was,
as he strong y suspected, either a lunatic or in an early stage
of delirium tremens, the programme of going to bed might
mvolve some annoying disturbance during the nitiht He
sighed, and pocketed the guinea. ^
j,o"^'!l ^''^'f ^"°*^f ^°^' ^"^ ^e" 'em to shut up the bar"
he said as he turned and left the room. The abbd addressed
em^pty chlir '° '" ^°"''' '"^ '^P^ " '^^^"^ ^y^ -'^ '^e
Presently the host came back with some firewood, which
got ^up alain. ''' ''"''' ""^ "^""^^ ^'^ ^^^*' -^ then
I'll" fl ^?v '^^''^' '['' • ^^ '^•^' g°'"g to the table, « I think
1 11 toke this arm-chair. If your friend comes back ''he
added facetiously "let me know, and I'll apologise to hi^ "
He brought the chair to the fireside, seated hirnsef with
Sock^f T^^/'"^'^' '"^ '^^"^^ h'^ h^"d« i"to hi b aches'
pocKet. Gault.er went on drinking and smokine till the
K:f :S'"lho1 -?/tertorouf snores "nno^nced tha
fn vT!iH f ?• °'''y afterwards the abbd himself began
to yield to drowsiness, and before lone he had f.ll.n f.^"
dn uneasy siumber which lasted till dawn"
mio tne aDMs mind. He determmed to make his way to
3i8
a IRent Squire
Is '
I
III I
:;. JS(;t
M 11
iii
1
■ 1 1 :
» n
1
' 1
I
Wray Cottage, with the object of finding out how far and
in what way Muriel had been affected by the fate of her
fiance. He had not been near enough to the group round
the bier on the preceding day to see much, or hear anything,
of what had passed. Being, moreover, entirely without a
clue to Muriel's bearing and proceedings, her apparent quiet
acceptance of the catastrophe had misled him. For all he
knew, her arrival upon the scene might have been due less
to any surviving fliith in her lover's innocence than to some
exaggerated or morbid sense of duty— possibly even to a
desire to learn that he had not left the world with an un-
confessed and unrepented crime on his conscience. Under
any circumstances, it was not likely that the heroine of such
an unpleasant episode would be overburdened with sympathy
or companionship at this particular juncture, and the abbd's
brandy-fed imagination readily pictured himself as receiving
the welcome due to a friend found unexpectedly faithful in
adversity.
After a late breakfast, therefore, he paid his score, and went
to the post-house to obtain a conveyance to Sandwich, from
which place he proposed to walk to Wray. In the yard he
encountered the parish clerk. This man looked at the abb^
curiously, and then took an opportunity of pointing him out
to the driver of the chaise which the abbd had ordered.
Probably the clerk's accompanying comments were not
altogether flattering to the subject of them, as the driver
looked somewhat askance at his fare when the latter took his
seat beside him. The abbe gave the word to start, and they
drove off".
Nothing particular occurred on the road to Canterbury
where the horses were changed. The abba's breakfast, it may-
be mentioned, had consisted mainly of brandy, and he had
furnished himself with a large bottle of the s-.ne fluid for
consumption on the journey. This had been already emptied
by the joint libations of himself and the post-boy, whose
possible prejudice against his fare did not by any means
extend to the latter's supply of refreshment, A fresh bottle
was accordingly procured wherewith to beguile the few re-
maining miles to Sandwich.
It was getting dark as they left the cathedral city, not on
account of the approach of evening, but from the change
which had occurred in the weather. The air was perfectly
•still and almost close, and the canopy of cloud hung "so thick
and so low that there was all the effect of dusk coming on.
B Ikcnt SqiUi-e 319
At a little distance from the road the fields and woods were
quite lost to s,ght in the inky gloom which shrouded t'e
spirits. He spoke seldom or not at all, drank continuously
and quite forgot to offer the post-boy an occasion "ichss Is
formerly. At Wingham he finUed the hot le,^^' b' 5e 'tl"
post-boy get another. This he discovered, not long after
tarting to be vx^ry poor stuff, and in a sudden outbreak o
fury he threw the bottle into the nearest ditch, cursed tie
:rsilence Vh^r"".? °'.«°°^ ''^^""^' -^ ^hen rdap ed
into silence 1 he post-boy drove on very sulkily
A mile or two outside Ash the abbe looked very earnestly
pos;^o;t:;'pfy/^^ ''''''' -'^^'-' -^ ^^-" -VeTS
;; Who is that ? » he asked, under his breath.
" rtj^ V^'""^-^ ^^^ P°''-^°y' ^°°^'"g round
•^Thrre's' n?' ^''''^^u V^' '°"^ ^"^ '^^'^ ^' ^^e abbd.
'« Th^f .11 °"*'' ]^^\ ^ ^^'" '^^" he said curtly.
r.nV V ' '" ^^^ ^'^^'^ ^'O'-^k with his head covered-
"vVhyTe ^TaVeThr l' '"''■''?'" ^"^^^^^^ '^TSfbe.
off-hor'sfa flick''"' '''''''^ ^'^ P^^^'^^^' ^ ^e gave the
ablfsKk^lid:!^--^ the
dHvi:^i;^-tr^^[h;^.r^„r^^^
-- ,^^°-i - j; wXl be the'worTe'fo'r" ou/ ""'' ^^"^^ "^
roadwaf.''' ^°°' "° "°^^^^ «^ ^^'^ — k, but stared at the
"Dr!^:'on'""' "°"'" ^" ^^'"^^^^^' -"h an air of relief,
just then his arm was violently spiVpri Kv i.;.
again.
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320
a ITtent Squire
The abbd did not stop to reply, but half leaped, half fell out
of the chaise into the road, and reeled a few steps forward.
The post-boy turned the chaise sharp round, fired a volley
of expletives at his fare, and drovi off at a gallop back towards
Canterbiir T.. five minutes he was out of sight, and Gaultier
was lef; ut nhe roa iway alone.
'toe cr'- ■,. ,3 just sober enough to philosophise on the
disappearance of his bugbear in the black cloak, as he walked
along towards Sandwich.
" This is a little new," he remrrked to himself. " Certainly,
one used to see very curious things after a good spell at the
bottle. But that fellow V-^ night in the chair, and now
the same again — j1 .nis la a kin-' of thing that is infer-
nally ridiculous. Evidently, I must make a good dinner at
Sandwich. It all comes of drinking without eating— that is
demonstrable."
The abb^ arrived at Sandwich a little later, and ordered
dinner at a t.ivern by the waterside. While waiting for his
meal he watched the rising tide as it reached the fishing-boats
and small craft lying near high-water mark. One of these
was a small lugger, and he thought he recognised one of the
Kermodes in a man who was lounging on the deck as the
boat rocked on the ground swell from the Channel. He
hastily withdrew his head from the window, and sat down
by the fire. The capon which he had ord"- d was brough.
in presently, and he commenced his meal witti a fresh acces-
sion of gloom. By the lime it was finished, his mood had
become decidedly pessir 'istic, and his confidenr in the
possible utility of his journey had nearly evaporated. Finally
he rose with a sort of self-defyi^^g swagger, paid his score,
and started through the gatherin^i dusk on the road to Wray
Cottage.
Night had fallm before his rather unsteady footsteps brought
him to ■> ,,.ass road n-nning thro'igh Wrayhurst Wood. The
latter was one of the. many examples, still surviving at the
period, of the timbered lands which hrri rem.dned uncleared
since the period of th Uoman occupation of Britain. The
moon had not yet risen, and . a almost impenetrable gloom
shrouded the a. ■ ^ - "' the primeva' fores i. Th ; air was
thickj damp, ar p' ctly still. Pi )found silence reigned
through the dar«.iiess, aroken only by mutterinjis of distant
M Iccnt Squire
Ded, half fell out
IV steps forward.
J, fired a volley
op back towards
;ht, and Gaultier
osophise on the
ak, as he walked
elf. " Certainly,
ood spell at the
chair, and now
ig that is infer-
. good dinner at
t eating — that is
ter, and ordered
; waiting for his
the fishing-boats
One of these
nised one of the
the deck as the
; Channel. He
V, and sat down
'Ti d was brough.
th a fresh acces-
d, his mood had
nfidenrf- in the
porated. Finally
, paid his score,
the road to Wray
footsteps brought
lurst Wood. The
surviving at the
m.iined uncleared
of Britain. The
ipenetrable gloom
ii. The air was
d silence reigned
tterin^s of distant
3ai
frnm'^^h; ^! ^"""l ' -tervals waves of faint lightning rose
from the eastern horizon and gleamed pallidly between the
inky columns of the vast oaks and pines
f,i(!^n^'f"''r\''P^"'"^> l^^ "^'■'^°Py o^ cloud showed a huge
fallen trunk lymg a few feet from the path. Gaulti r vs nt
to It and sat down, restmg his chin on his hands, and iookmg
vacantly at the dim pathway of turf he had just left ^
.S««^^/.«/" he muttered, "I wish I had been either too
sober or too drunk to start on this fool's job. WhTis he
that much;" '" "'-''''' "^'- ^ ^^'"^ '^'"^ ^^"•d ^''
His head sank, and tears of savage despair fell between
plssed'l m'um 'r'nf'^PH '' ?T ^''^' Several mtutes
and died T.T tk ""'""^ ^^^tled amongs^t the high branches,
and died away. The silence deepened, and the -loom
thickened into a darkness that might be felt ""
.f!"K'^'''"lV!'t''^''^ '^^ "P' ^"^ "^^^"ed. A sound hke that
of a branchlet broken under foot had reached his ear
nl.ty n" "Jk'^"^ ^ ^^^^'^ '^y ^""^"^ the far-away lightning
p ayed over the open space in front of him. By its momemlr?
Th^^e t^noloS^nd'^S'^Mr ^^^ «'-'' a^dTarpear
iT wa's r ma^orTtom?:. '°"'' "°' ^^^" '^ ^"^^ ^^'^^^^
oreltf mu^rh ?h' ^'■°''^'^K- "^}''^ g°^^ ^°"^^«"e who seems
pretty much at home m this infernal wood. Two's comnanv
Let us see who's abroad on such a ight as this '' ''''"'P^"^-
He went out on to the path. The moon was just ri ing and
It was possible to see some little distance along the track No
on^ was m sight. Gaultier ran forward several vardr^tnnnli
Danish'? ''T'^ ^"^"^'^^'y- "'^ PrevLuTd^f ^^^^^^^
tooT'is'' place' P-ternatural acu^n'ess of sight nd'heari g
JhffimtiSl:"- ftrLnorff^^'- "e shuddered, and fo?
91
n
Ik
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'' ■ t • ■
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3aa B l^cnt Squtre
While crossing the bottom of this hollow, Gaultier thought
he heard a slight sound in the direction of the ridge behind
him. He instantly stepped aside from the path, lay flat down
amongst some bracken, and waited.
In a couple of seconds the rift of moonlight over the ridge
was blocked by a tall and shrouded figure, which disappeared
in the intervening hollow a moment afterwards.
*• What is ^his ? " thought the abb^, " Have I managed to
pass that ni jit-bird by some accident? "
He held his breath, and peered keenly through the brake-
fronds while the newcomer approached his hiding! lace. The
figure swept noiselessly past him. It was enveloped in some
kind of cloak and cowl, and seemed to be that of a man.
Uit he could see no face, and fancied that it was covered with
something black. In a score of paces the form was lost in the
shadows of the forest. The abb^ began to tremble.
'• It is that fellow ^gain," he said to himself.
He waited some little time before he could summon up
sufficient resolution to resume his journey. When he did,
it was with a certain feeling of relief that, at all events, the
unknown was somewhere in front and not behind him.
The curfew had tolled before he emerged from the forest
and saw, by the passing gleams of moonlight, the gables and
moulded chimneys of Wray Cottage rising over the willows
which bordered the little river Wraybourne.
No light appeared in its windows. But only the bedrooms
faced Wrayhurst Wood, and the wainscoted parlour, where
Muriel usually sat of an evening, could not be seen from the
hillside under the forest. Gaultier decided that it was not
late enough for the dame and her niece to have retired for the
night, and therefore went forward.
The high hedgerow prevented him from seeing anything of
the front of the cottage till he had passed through the side
lane and reached the wicket which gave entrance to the garden.
The gate was wide open, and the Cottage in darkness.
This rather surprised the abb^, who had heard that the
dame's town-bred habit of locking the wicket every night was
a stock joke amongbt the villagers. He entered cautiously,
and observed that the door in the porch was wid,: open also.
This surprised him still more, and he stepped into the shade
of the soruces to reconnoitre.
The parlour of the Cottage had two casement windows, one
facing him, and the other — into which the moon shone at
intervals— round the corner to the left. The abbd waited till
:ier thought
id^c behind
ly flat down
2r the ridge
disappeared
managed to
I the brake-
place. The
)ed in some
of a man.
;overed with
IS lost in the
summon up
ben he did,
events, ihe
d him.
n tht! forest
; gables and
the willows
le bedrooms
rlour, where
en from the
; it was not
tired for the
anything of
ugh the side
5 the garden,
ess.
ird that the
;ry night was
i cautiously,
le open also,
to the shade
ivindows, one
on shone at
b6 waited till
a f{cnt Squire 323
the moon was obscured, and then made for the shadow of a
holly-bush close to the nearest window. One thick branch of
this holly touched the casement itself, and by creeping under
the branch it was possible to bring his face close to the
diamond-shaped panes without being seen from within.
The casement opened inwards, both frame and sill havinu
a deep drip-groove to prevent rain entering. This had been
an arrangement of some former occupant, in order to permit
of keeping a number of pot-flowers on the broad sill outside
Muriel used it for this purpose, and the plants heli)ed to make
a further screen for prying eyes. Gaultier dropped on his
knees and crawled to the window. Then, half raising himself,
he gazed intently within.
At first he could distinguish nothing ; but when the
next broken gleam of moonlight flickered for a moment
hrough the further casement, he saw a figure seated by
the table in the dame's great arm-chair, its head buried in
Its outstretched arras. With a thrill of terror the abb.? saw
repeated over again the apparition of the tavern at Maidstone
Ihe moon was immediately afterwards hidden, but the
ightning became more frequent and vivid, while the roll of
thunder indicated that the centre of the storm was coming
nearer, fhe figure remained motionless, and the abbd keot
his eyes fixed upon it as if fascinated. ^
A l"r?l?'^ ^K 'Ti^l^"^ §\«P^d, and his hair stood on end.
A bright flash of lightning had lit up the room, and for i
moment made the smallest object visible. The form a the
table vvas that of a man. whose rieck was bare, and wh^showed
round his neck a livid purple band.
Even through the darkness that followed the flash the abb^
continued to glare with dilated eyes upon the spo where the
figure sat so silent and so still, 'in the intensty of his fixed
gaze his vision seemed to gain power to penetrate the uUer
gloom in which the little room was shrouded, and he saw a
slight movement in the form at the table.
Then the bowed head was slowly raised inH th#» ,r.«o
The next inseant the sky wa= spUt from zenith to hori/nn
hea"ve"rand t'/f.""'",?' '°"°^'^ ''^^ thunder<,'ash'°as'oT he
neavens and the earth comins tofrpHi^r 'v^.. ,__. _
driven in by ti.e concussion"; and Gaultier paTJ^ed'wTS
m-
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324
a IRent Squire
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Before him was a face, sombre, menacing, and awful in its
livid pallor, whose eyes, glittering with unearthly fire, seemed
to burn into his very soul. It was the face of Ambrose
Gwynett.
The abb(5's lips slowly parted. He drew a deep breath,
staggered, and fell back unconscious.
There was a moment of profound darkness. Then a ray
of moonlight played upon the empty chair, and a little puff
of wind made the casement swing to again. The storm passed
away, but large drops of rain began to fall. The body of the
abb^ remained lying in a heap under the window.
/ ;)
d awful in its
y fire, seemed
of Ambrose
deep breath,
Then a ray
d a little puff
i storm passed
e body of the
"The face !)f Asfihro^e Gwyiui!.
-Page 3U.
m t
BOOK IV
H Bib for jempire
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a ir?eiit Squire
3*7
CHAPTER XLI
A CELEBRATED SNUFF-BOX
^^/^,^'"';!"y '^*' '712, the French court, which had been
at Marly for nearly a fortnight, returned to Versailles. The
dauphin (the due de Bourgogne) and the dauphine were of the
party together with their two little sons, the dues de Bretagne
and dAnjou and the royal governesses, mesdames de
Ventadour and de Villefort.
The first few days of the month were raw and cold, but the
morning of the 5th was so warm and the sun shone so
brilliantly that almost the whole court streamed out upon the
onT.^i ^° f T^ ^^l °P^" ^'- ^'■^"P^ °^ ^""^'•'^••s. ministers,
and officials formed and broke up again with quite a bu-v
appearance, and the ' sanctuary,' as the king's own private
arde was called, attended the promenade in considerable
Madame de Maintenon and the duchesse de Bourgogne
}t Tu *i' ^'"^' '^^ ^"^ de Bretagne ran on in front
and the baby due d'Anjou, who was a very backward, feeble,'
and sickly child, was carried by his Breton nurse in the rear
IT^ncZTeSltZL::''''^^^^ ^"' ''' cherished friend
The dauphine, Marie-Adelaide of Savoy, was the sooiled
child of the 'sanctuary.' Brought to France at eleven^ears
won the oIh" t"^ ' ' " ^""'^'l^ '^ '^•^'^^"' '^' had comp e e ly
won the old king's heart by her lovable disposition her
tZ^dTtt:"""'' ^^"-'-^P^^^^'^^'^ spirits, and'herch^erfS
disregard of the monstrous etiquette which he exacted from
everyone else at court. The less fortunate or less aud-iciZ
members of the royal circle looked on with wonder wht^^
duchesse de Bourgogne plumped herself down upon an an^
of the king's chair, or shouted "ma tante" after the uusLre
marqu.se de Mamtenon. But the dauphine held her grand
hear'"'? hTr'fonf "'"^/"' ?>^ terribly afraid lest he s'hould
o? the-tc^hett t^-' ^— -' deplo?:reu1trm1
This Insf nprcr>rn"'~' " J-.._Ui.-- -e ,•> , -
.. :, f :''''5-. a uaugiULT of the due U'Urieans qnH
bv '':''^'^'^^^^^ de Blois, one of Louis ^Ws chHc^en
by a..ua.u.e de Montespan, was at once the king's grand
328
a ftcnt Squfrc
t
f-:
m
the lower terrace,
de St. Simon and
"IS
the
lli
daughter and (through her marriage with the due de Berri)
granddaughter-in-law. On this particular morning the gossips
of the court had had their appetites for scandal sufficiently
whetted by the news that madame de Berri had become
helplessly intoxicated at supper the night before, that the old
princess Palatine had been scolding her granddaughter-in-law
all morning, and that the king was understood to be furious
about the affair.
Probably the dauphine found the royal temper a little
discouraging during the promenade, for she fell back and
walked with madame de Valincour.
" Comtesse," she said, pointing to
not that M. de Noailles talking to M
niardchal de Berwick ? "
" Yes, madame," replied the comtesse.
" So he is returned, then. I thought he was at his estates
in Languedoc. Do you know we had a great quarrel before
he went away ? "
** I rather fancy madame de Noailles told me he had had
the misfortune to offend your highness in some way or other."
" I should think so, truly. I asked him what was the kind
of snuff he thought most suitable for a lady. Guess what the
monster replied."
'* I have not the slightest idea, madame."
"He said he was not aware that such a thing existed. I
told him it would be setting a bad example for me to continue
the acquaintance of a person whose ignorance was so profound
and so inexcusable. Then he went off to Nismes."
" I believe he returned last night, madame."
•' Tell him, in the course of the morning, that I will give
him an opportunity of displaying any little elementary know-
ledge he may have acquired during his absence, if he likes
to come to supper."
The dauphine kept looking at the due de Noailles and his
friends.
*' Those gentlemen seem very much interested about some-
thing," she went on, making way for the king, as he returned
from the end of the terrace. " Go and see what it is, comtesse,
and give my message."
The due de Noailles, a good-natured looking person with
the face of a country squire, was chatting with four gentlemen.
One of these was a stout, elderly man, with a profoundly
seil-important expression, and the air— as was said of some-
one else later — of his own statue erected by national sub-
due de Berri)
ng the gossips
dal sufficiently
had become
;, that the old
laughter-ill-law
to be furious
:mper a Utile
fell back and
r terrace, "is
imon and the
at his estates
quarrel before
e he had had
way or other."
t was the kind
iuess what the
ig existed. I
ne to continue
IS so profound
s."
lat I will give
nentary know-
:e, if he likes
)ailles and his
d about some-
s he returned
t is, comtesse,
[ person with
tur gentlemen,
a profoundly
said of some-
national sub-
a Ikent Squire 389
script ion. This was Louis de Rouvroi, due de St. Simon
and author of the famous "Memoirs"; the second, a tall'
soldierly looking wearer of a marshal's uniform, was the duke
of licr.vick, the natura son of James II. and Marlborough's
•^ter, and consequently half-brother to the chevalier de St.
.VhT^^' f °^^'' °^ ^^^ P^'"*>' ^^5 the due de Chevreuse,
who posed as amateur medical adviser to anyone about the
court who would hsten to him ; and the fourth was M. Bondin!
chief physician to the dauphine. He had just joined thegroup:
the doctor' ^'VJ T""" '^'i ^^ ^°''^'"^^' t"^"'"g towards
the doctor. 'Good day, my dear M. Bondin."
1 he physician bowed.
^<^ KndtLlnit^tS^^^^^^
atThe-^tTfl^ts'p^."^''""^- '' ' ^^ - -"^^^"^^ y--S
;; Concerning what, M. le due ? " asked the doctor cautiously,
/'w/./ my dear doctor," said the duke, "we are al
discreet, I hope. I mean this threat of poisoning '' ^
tL 2 T rT *° ^^ ^" authority in the matter, M. le due "
" J thint' °^^^^^>^k slapped the doctor on the shoulder
I think we may speak freely, monsieur," said he lauch ntr
Madame la dauphine is not half as punctilious as you arf'
It is she who has given the affair publicity." ^
"If fhTt'Ts'th'"''^ '°'"'"^^'' "^"^'^"^^ ^y this assurance.
It that IS the case, gentlemen," he said, "there is nn
reason for not telling the little that I have to tdl As a
matter of fact, it s confined to the circumstance th.t on he
day his majesty did us the honour of coming to Mi k^"
.nL^^Tu""'' '^'''^" ^'^'^ de Noaillel 'STIthe
worst^ of being out of the world for a month-one hear^
'« fJT.^^f ^ ^^u"'^]^^*. ^S°'" P"t in Berwick,
doctor "Th". ^^^^°^'^«t month, M. Ic due," replied the
dauphine, There L absltdy n^l uftoX^wrlirr'^Tft ?
ma t ?"anlTTd'o"'^^' ^^'"'°^'" ^^ '^ ^'p^''" of Si
holTW"rtdved^"ette?frn1hrSn?n' h"'''" '^^^"^^'^^"^
was araiabiiitvaself'" "wh"^""''' tJ'"""'!',''," * Noailles, who
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330
H •Rent Squire
11
h
No one responded to this inquiry, because every one except
the duke at once thought of the duchesse de Berri. This
princess had always been desperately jealous of the precedence
necessarily accorded to her husband's sistcr-in-Iavv, and had
frequently made herself insufferably disagreeable to her.
"That is quite true," put in St. Simon finally. "But as it
was only yesterday that the matter got about, there has been
time for further developments ? "
As the duke looked inquiringly a' the doctor, the latter
repl ed,
" Nothing whatever has transpired, M, le due, so far as I am
aware."
It may be mentioned that the sources of the two warnings
in question have always remained a mystery, and, moreover,
that there does not appear to have been the slij^htest ground
for either of them. But after the deaths of Henrietta Stuart
and her daughter Marie-Louise d'Orleans, queen of Spain,
people took possibilities of this sort rather seriously. The
due de Noailles seemed rather put out.
" Do you know, my dear M. Bondin," he said, " that your
news comes very ma/ a propos ? "
" In what way, M. le due ? "
" Parbleu ! it is rather curious. You all know why madame
la dauphine, with her usual charming vivacity, chose to visit
me with her displeasure just before I started for Nismes."
The group nodded an acquiescence.
" Frankly," went on the duke, " I look forward with terror
to a fashion of continuous sneezing setting in amongst the
houris of our Paradise. Let us keep our illusions as long
as we can."
** I do not dissent from you, my dear de Noailles," remarked
the due de St. Simon, finding he was expected to say some-
thing, and being, in truth, quite sufiicienlly scandalised himself
at the dauphine's accomplishment.
"Nevertheless," said de Noailles, "on the principle of holding
a candle to — ahem ! — the angels, I ventured to bring buck
with me from Nismes a little [)eace-offt:ring for madame de
Bourgogne, intending to seek permission to present it this
evening."
" But what has this to do with me, M. le due ? " asked
the doctor.
" PatiencCi mv dear doctor," refilled de Noailles. struu^lin"'
to get some parcel out of his coat-tail pocket, " the connection
is confoundedly close, as you will perceive, Voild,!"
,->
ivery one except
ie lierri. This
" the precedence
n-law, and had
Ie to her.
lly. "But as it
there has been
ictor, the latter
;, so far as I am
le two warnings
and, moreover,
slij^htest ground
ienrietta Stuart
ueen of Spain,
seriously. The
aid, " that your
w why madame
■, chose to visit
Nismes."
ard with terror
n amongst the
usions as long
illes," remarked
d to say some-
idaliscd himself
iciple of holding
to bring Ixick
'or madame de
present it this
e due ? " asked
illes stru'^flin"'
' the connection
i.
a tkcnt Squire 331
The speaker prod-iced a parcel, which, when divested of
Its silk wrapper, proved to be a very beautifully chased gold
casette or small box, which he handed to Berwick.
"This is a charming affair," observed the marshal. "A
bonbonniire, J suppose ? "
The due o .roailles pressed a spring, and the lid flew open,
revealing the inside filled with snuff.
" The very finest Spanish I could procure," he said " I
am not an expert myself, as I explained to madame la dauphine •
but I believe all you gentlemen are connoisseurs— try for
yourselves."
The due de St. Simon appeared quite shocked when
de NoaiUes tendered the box to him.
• /'^y^'^.^'"" ^^'L°'^'" ^^ '^''^' "take* a pinch out of a box
intended for madame la dauphine ? Impossible ! What are
you thinking of?"
" I am thinking of M. Bondin's little story, my dear friend
Here is something from Spain, a country which sends warnin-s
to M. Ie dauphm,and I do not wish to be accused of anything
If anything goes wrong. I beg you all to observe that I take
a pinch myself, and will abide by the consequences "
The duke elaborately helped himself to some of the snuff
and sneezed with tremendous energy. '
"As a matter of self-devotion to 'the safety of madame I
am with you duke," said St. Simon, taking a pinch. "It is
certainly of the very finest quality," he added, after the effects
of the stimulant had duly presented themselves
The other gentlemen helped themselves in turn, and expressed
their high appreciation of the contents of the casette. At this
moment madame de Valincour was seen to leave the dauphine
"""u l?,^""^^ ^^^ ^^y '" the direction of the group ^
. Who is this lady?" asked Berwick, who had only just
arrived from camp, and had not seen anything of the Marly
household for some time. ^
" Pardieul my dear mardchal," cried Chevreuse, " what
monastery have you been living in, not to know the mos
beautiful woman at court?"
Berwick. """'^ ^^''^ ^"""^^ ''"'^ ^ ''^' ^^ ^^^ ^^°"''«'-'" '•«PJied
"Certainly-I forgot that. It is madame de Valincour
from Marly-a friend of M. de Noailles." ^^iincour,
Noailli.'''^^ "^' ''""''" ^"" ^'■°"' childhood," explained de
The comtesse came up, and was received by the four
1 } "' '"' II
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33a
a ment Squtrc
gentlemen with salutations whose homage equalled anythinc
that could ha\e been accorded to the dauphine or the
marquise de Maintenon. The due de Noailles looked on
rather finiut,cd.
"Comtesse," he said, taking her hand in quite a paternal
fashion, " permit me to present to you A. de Berwick, who
lays his many laurels at your feet."
The marshal bowed with the profoundest empressement, and
the comtesse added a gracious smile to her curtsy,
"I meet M. le mardchal with ail the more pleasure," she
said, ' because I have, I believe, some Stuart blood in mv
own veins also," '
Berwick bowed again at this intimation, whirh happened to
be a pure invention on the part of the comtesse.
" Madame does me infinite honour to claim me as a
kinsman," he rejoined.
"A house that has sent us queen Marie, the princess
Henrietta, and madame de Valincour, lays Fran - under
eternal obligations," remarked St. Simon, who did not wish to
be out of the fashion.
The comtesse curtsied again, and turned to de Noailles
M. le due," she said, "I have to tell you that madame
has noticed your arrival,"
.»,"n°"-n'^™ ""^ terribly," said the duke. "I understa. d
the Bastille is quite full, and unfortunately the air of Vincennes
aoe^s not agree with me."
■'■ Madame recognises that justice should be tempered with
mercy; replied the comtesse. "She desires me to say that
U join deplorable and culpable ignorance has been lessened
durinjT your absence, you will be accorded an opportunity of
proving the fact at supper to-night,"
Madame la dauphine overwhelms me by her clemency
l>ut I am in too great a hurry to display my improved taste to
wait till evening, so I have a favour to beg of you, comtesse "
Let me hear first, M. le due. You are only on probation
at present, and I must be cautious."
"Do me the service, comtesse, to ask madame la dauphine
to deign to accept this .sample of Seville snuff as beiim
something highly attested by the gentlemen you see before
you, and therefore a proof of my rapid advance as a
connoisseur,"
"Madame la comtesse," remarked Rerwirk^ "m-iv rest
assured that it we have not amongst us a single other' claim
to distinction, we are, at least, good judges of snuff."
r
i-5i
''j*
w*
iualled anything
lauphine or the
allies looked on
juite a paternal
e Berwick, who
npressementy and
tsy.
; pleasure," she
irt blood in my
ch happened to
laim me as a
;, the princess
Frai J under
lid not wish to
le Noailles.
u that madaiue
"I understai J
ir of Vincennes
tempered with
me to say that
been lessened
opportunity of
her clemency.
)roved taste to
u, comtesse."
y on probation
le la dauphine
nuff as being
'ou see before
idvance as a
kj "may rest
le other claim
' snuff."
I
a Ikent Squire
zzz
¥.J.
Convey my most
..ise. Au revoir,
adame receives this
" You may depend upon me, M Ic .
affect )nate luembrances to the '
gentlemen. \ua will understand that
ever ng, as usual."
The five gentlemen acknowledged the comtesse's sweeping
curtsy with a half circle of bows, and stood watching her as
she passed along the terrace.
"A iorfectly superb woman!" commented Berwick.
•Where has she bt( n hidden all this timer
The due de Noailles was rather gratified at the sensation
produced by his wife's protegee.
"We sent her to Madrid when nia^'ame dec Ursins wrote
vVhen ail the Fren<'h
Valincour retired with
Her own people live
for a lady of honour," he ex[)lai
contingent returned to Fran c,
his wife to his estates in Lani.
there."
" What is the family ? "
" They are rather new— Gaultier de Beauval."
-hhiV'^^' exclaimed the marshal, "any relation of the
" She is his sister," replied de Noailles, in a not very en-
thusiastic tone. " Do you know him ? "
" In a fashion. I recollect him as sacristan at St. Germain
m very low water for some reason or other " '
" He was usually at loggerheads with his people." said de
Noailles.
"Very likely. He asked the king* for a clerkship at Ihe
chateau— a matter of some three or four hundred livres a
year. Du Vivier, the chapel-master, was annoyed at Gaultier
going to the king behind his back, and reported rather blackly
against him Ihe post was refused, and Gaultier went off
wuh^ rallard to England. I saw him again about a yeai
The rnarshal discreetly refrained from explaining that
Gaultier had been sent to him on the occasion in question
by Harley, with the proposition that the Pretender should
^Sn!r.K '" "^"'^^ ^""''' so^c'-eignty till her death, and
shou d then come over to succeed her. This move of the
lord-treasurer's had the expected effect of securing fo. him
S^ThorHn' ^^^°iT'r^"''°"' ''^" ^°''^ ^°t^ °f the JacobitTs
in both Houses of Parliament.
"' He is not exactly a man one can know," said de Noailles ;
• James 11.
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i* !
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It :
'i f
334
B Ikent Squire
but he IS fond of his sister, and she is devotedly attached
to him. He was finally disinherited by his father for opposing
hermarriage— at her request, of course."
" Where is the comte ? "
" Nobody knows, or cares— probably at Valincour. A con-
firmed rnvalid, I fancy, and a perfect savage at that."
Meanwhile, madame de Valincour had returned to the
grand terrace. The royal party were just going within doors,
and the comtesse followed them at a little distance.
The suite of rooms at Versailles which were assigned to
the dauphm and dauphine included a large boudoir and a
little cabmet leading out of it. The dauphine was sitting in
the boudoir, after returning from the terrace, and talking to
the due de Bourgogne, when the comtesse de Valincour
entered and came forward to execute the commission entrusted
to her by the due de Noailles. The dauphine uttered a cry
of delight when the casette was unwrapped and placed in
her hands.
" It is charming i " she cried. " Decidedly, the duke is a
person worth quarrelling with. I see I must cultivate the habit.
Look, monseigneur ! "
The dauphine pressed the spring, and made the lid fly
open. She smelt the snuff, and remarked to the dauphin,
as she took up a pinch between her thumb and finger,
"If the king is going to catechise you this 'morning,
monseigneur, you had better look out of the window."
The dauphin shrugged his shoulders amiably. His wife
was a privileged person, and had long ago established her
right to be exempt from criticism. She took the pinch, and
sneezed very heartily.
"That is excellent," said the dauphine. "Where did M.
de Noailles get it, comtesse ? "
"From Seville, madame."
" I thought it was Spanish. Try, monseigneur," and the
dauphine tendered the box to her husband.
The dauphin was not much of a snuff-taker, and declined
the box.
"Excuse me, madame. I like a pinch for a headache, or
when I feel even more stupid than usual, but "
"Nonsense!" said the dauphine. "Just to oblige me
monseigneur," and she held out the box with a bewitchine
smile.
The dauphin did not trouble to contest the point, but took
a pmch dutifully and returned the box.
ft ! ■
IVhere did M.
3int, but took
a Tkent Squire 335
The dauphine closed the lid of the casette, and examined
the chasing with renewed admiration,
"It is perfecdy lovely," she said, turning it over several
tunes. "Some of you good people will be stealing it from
me if I do not take care. I am going to put it in my cabinet."
The dauphme rose, went into her little private room and
returned. '
''Now, comtesse," she said, "we are ready to drive. Go
and ask that good M. de Noailles to come with us It is a
heavenly morning, and I feel as if I were going to live for
ever. Come, monseigneur ! "
The party dispersed to rendezvous in the great courtyard
and the swarm of courtiers hastened to follow the roval
example. ^
In the evening the dauphine felt a little indisposed. She
was attacked with trembling fits and a certain amount of fever
and went to bed early. Madame de Maintenon came to see
her, and took a seat beside the couch. The dauphine was nol
Xfi >"" 2-K^^^ P^"^'^"* °^ ^^^ morning, and extolled the
duke s snuff-box and its contents in enthusiastic terms.
1 believe even his majesty would reconcile himself to
my taking such snuff as that," she said, laughing.
The olc marquise looked quite distressed
"My Jear" she exclaimed, "I beg you will believe
nothing of the sort. Nothing would anno/ the king more
as I have always told you. And after madame de Berri^
conduct last night "
The marquise had no words left to express her opinion of
this appalling scandal. ^ "P^non oi
for 'youlselT " '^"'''" ^^'"'"'^^ '^' d^n^h\n<,, " you shall try
alarmXnh ""' ^""' ' " '''^ '^' ^^^°^°"^ "^^^^"'^^' '" -"
d-iuuh'ine' Z'd^'r'"' ^^^h^" "°t tell tales," went on the
sherlZ^ . disregarding the protests of her companion,
she called to one of her women in the ante-chamber '
Madame de Levi," she said, - take my key, and fetch me
my gold snuff-box from my cabinet "
chllltZJ:, '"''"" '^^ ^^° °^ ^^-^'" -P»-d the
^^ ''I mean my new one. I put it on the tnhlf^-n^a^^n,. ^e
vaiincour will show you which it is " n^^oa.... ae
.ui^^^^l "^^ ^^\' ^^ithdrew. "After several minutes had
elapsed, she came back, looking rather puzzled
li :t
|.''. sS
336
a iRent Squire
"There is no snuff-box on the table, madame," she said;
"in fact, we cannot find any new snuff-box in madame's
cabinet at all."
CHAPTER XLII
A TREATY OF ALLIANCE
The disappearance of the dauphine's snuff-box aroused a good
deal of interest at the court, although everyone understood
that the circumstance was not to reach the ears of the king.
St. Simon, in his " Memoirs," lays special stress upon the fact
that the little cabinet, where the casette had been placed by
the dauphine, was closed to everyone except herself. As the
various rooms in the palace were practically all under the
surveillance of the numberless officers, and as no person's
absence from duty had been observed, the mystery remained
without a solution.
But the court had speedily occasion to forget the dauphine's
snuff-box in the excitement caused by the alarming develop-
ment of her indisposition. On the nights of the Saturday
and Sunday following the first attack, the fever returned with
great violence, although during the daytime on Saturday the
patient had felt better. On Sunday night intense pains in the
head were felt, and the dauphine suffered so greatly that she
begged the king would not come in to see her, as he wished.
The doctors tried in vain to relieve the pain by tobacco,
both chewed and smoked, quantities of opium, and two
bleedings. Eventually the pain diminished, but an acccs'
fever followed, and the patient fell into a sort of lethargy
the Tuesday.
About ten o clock that morning the comtesse de Valincour,
who had been sitting up all night, went with her friend
madame de Ventadour to get a little air upon the terrace.
As they passed through the corridor looking out upon the
courtyard, an equipage drove up which attracted madame de
Ventadour's attention.
"Wait a moment, my dear Yvonne/' she said. "Surely
that carriuge if from L'^toile, and the duke inside? That
"I do not happen to know their establishment at all,"
replied the comtesse.
le," she said;
in madame's
roused a good
le understood
s of the king.
upon the fact
ien placed by
rself. As the
all under the
s no person's
tery remained
he dauphine's
ming develop-
the Saturday
returned with
Saturday the
ie pains in the
eatly that she
as he wished,
1 by tobacco,
urn, and two
t an acccs
>f lethargy
de Valincour,
th her friend
n the terrace.
out upon the
i madame de
aid. " Surely
inside ? That
iment at all,"
L'l^toile
a Ikent Squire
war a little villa in the nark
337
nor, ^^ u , , - "^ o^ Versailles, which
naa been given by the king to his illegitimate daughter
Frangojse-Mane de Blois, wife of the due d'Orleans. The
duchesse d Orleans used to receive extremely distinguished
company there and gave very rec/ien/ie dinners. All this
fnrl- . t^'u^""^-, ^^ distraction, and it was rather unusual
for mm to be beguiled thither from the Palais-Royal in Paris
There was also a room kept for him at Marly, but he was
scarcely ever seen at Versailles.
In fact, the duke's position at this period was more or less
.hat of an exile from the French court. His military successes
Phninni' V .^^'^7^'"df i" Spain, had rather frightened
Philippe y, who strongly suspected his cousin of purposing
to snatch his crown from him. As Louis XIV shared in tSf
suspicion (which was probably quite unfounded), the duke
had been somewhat summarily recalled to France. He now
lived mostly in Paris, accompanied by his forro.r tutor the
abb^ Dubois, and devoted his energies about equally to the
pursuit of the fine arts, studying chemistry, and scar^daMsng
the court by the habits of his private life. These latte?
.'^1.^^^'' "'^^"'' '" ^^^ "^°"^^^ °^ his inveterate enemies
ind fpX^.'"''' '''' '' "" ^ '^""'^^'' ^" ^^^-^'
In fhese respects he undoubtedly laid him:=ci£- open to the
attacks of the marquise and to the severe disapproval o? his
krhadTrW thi'h'.h'r'f ^°^ '^""'^ '^'y often',\r;eas the
kmg had on y the habit of over-eatmg himself, and had latterlv
been compelled to forego ever that indulgence In rehS
matters the duke believed very little, and said so vS
naturally placed him at a disadvantage with the Ver ailks
aTt'he behes^t''r'r'"r' ^"' ^^'^'^' *° massTe"
^^ 1 5 u^'* °f."'^d^"'^ de Maintenon. Finally the duke
indulged himself in an endless succession of mistresses eot
nd of them m turn with extreme rapidity, and concerned
himself very little about his illegitimate children Thf. of
snarea tne fate of most mediaeval savants, and were looked
22
I; /
i
1
i ■
338
a ment Squire
upon as two necromancers openly in league with the devil.
For the rest, the duke was a handsome man of thirty-eight
years of age, courageous as a lion, good-natured to a proverb,
and probably the only royal Frenchman in two centuries who
occupied any part of his leisure with intellectual resources.
When the carriage from L'^toile stopped in the courtyard
a companion of the duke's got out first, and stood at the door.'
''There is the abbe Dubois, of course," comm.ented madame
de Ventadour. " Do you know him ? "
^'1 We met at Madrid," replied the comtesse.
"Probably they have come to inquire after madame la
dauphme."
" If that is the case," suggested the comtesse, " we may
as^well meet them. One of us will probably be asked
^ " By all means," replied the gouvernante, as they descended
'i!^ ^lul\ "?"'' ^° y°" ''"°^' ^ ^^^^ ^^ impression that
the abb6 has the evil eye— the>//fl/^r^, as they say at Naples
It makes me feel quite uncomfortable."
"Perhaps that is the eye he is said to keep open all night "
said the comtesse, laughing. " Here they come." '
The duke and the abbd made their appearance at this
moment preceded in rather a perfunctory manner by a groom
of the chambers. All the other officials kept carefully Sut of
sight, as a little tribute to the visitors' unpopularity at the
palace. This was nothing new in the duke's experience, and
he took notice of it in his own fashion.
" Fardieu ./the place seems rather empty, abb^," he remarked,
ma cheerfully oud tone, as they came along the great hall.
1 am afraid the poor devils here find themselves obliged
o retrench, and make shift with a reduced establishment.
We must see if we cannot keep them on their legs, my dear
fnend--this is really deplorable. Ah ! here is madame de
Ventadour. Good day, duchesse ! We have come to inquire
after your patient." ^
The two ladies curtsied, and the abbd kept a little in the
rear. ^
"Madame la duchesse de Bourgogne is very ill, M. le due "
replied the gouvernante. '
duke^^^' '^ "^^^"^ ^^^ '"^"^'"' ^"^^^sse?" inquired the
"It is not yet certain, M. le due. But M. Bondin
M Cheverny M. Mardschal, and M. Fagon are in consultation
at the present moment at madame's bedside."
i
I
'ith the devil.
of thirty-eight
d to a proverb,
centuries who
resources,
the courtyard,
•d at the door,
ented madame
2r madame la
sse, " we may
bly be asked
hey descended
npression that
say at Naples.
pen all night,"
irance at this
ler by a groom
refully out of
ularity at the
:perience, and
" he remarked,
the great hall,
lelves obliged
establishment,
legs, my dear
3 madame de
me to inquire
1 little in the
11, M. le due,"
inquired the
M. Bondin,
1 consultation
B ment Squire ^^g
fi.cT^^ ^^u""^ last-n^med gentlemen were respectively the kine's
first apohecary, first surgeon, and first physician. ^
fn. .r ''• °''' ";';'^dame de Valincour and myself are off dutv
for a lew mmutes," added the duchesse. ^
comtesse^"""' ^°''''^' ""^ '°°^'^ '""^her intently at the
«' aI^'ST K?^.^^^. household, then ? " he asked politely
^^ At Marly, M. le due." replied the comtesse. ^'
It appears to me 1 have had the honour of meeting
madame before," said the duke meenng
de^a'lincour''"'' ^°'^''''^' ^"'^ ^" ^^'^^^^^^^ ^^^ °" "^^dame
" M le due is probably thinking of the time when madame
la comtesse was of the household at Madrid," he put in '
1.^ that It?" asked the duke "Thpn t ^^ . ^ .
nudame de Bourgogne on \er Icquisitl^ as hea^ af I
condole with her majesty the ^ueen of Spain " ^
^WeZT'V^'f'"^' f "^ '^^ ^^^^ looked serious.
Profed^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
his^l'p^lr'"''' "'"'^^'°"^' ^"^ ^^^ ^"^^ -«t on with
he::fg'orthe^all^<^^^^^^^^^ out of
ii^VaSr-f ^^ ^^---^ ^^^^^^^e^
there MTd«e'"%h" '^-f ^^^'^g'-o^^d when we first arrived
the fi'eld" "' '^ ^'°" '''°"""'' yo" ^vent directly to
!! How long has she been at court here ? "
Only smce the winter."
" Did you know her at Madrid ? "
"A little."
" Intimately ? "
" ?[!u!!^H ^o quarrel a good deal."
.^.^ Abb^, this is the first time I have found you acting like an
" U' vo,f "lif.; °^ T'f ' ^"^^'^^^ ^o his opinion."
concLrn,ts^? thi^,Vu°^^^^^^^^ -^J-nt a Httle re-
to fry in this affair." ™^ ^'^ of your own
du^'lor ttVes't Tm'if "''^ ^1^°"^ ^^^ reconciliation, M. le
" WhaUs that mv .T5 '^'Tu y.°" °^ *h^ ^^"'h beat tude.'
vvnat is tnat, my esteemed theologian ? "
i a'.
''»■!
\P
;■ i :
'! i
' ■ f
if'
i
I.:
340
a Ikent Squire
" Blessed are they who expect nothing, for they shall not he.
disappointed."
"That is my affair, if you do not botch it beforehand."
" I am off to execute your commission, M. le due."
In the meantime, the two ladies had gone out upon the
terrace.
"Why did you not notice the abb^, my dear Yvonne?"
asked the gouvernante.
" We have not been quite on terms since I was at Madrid,"
replied the comtesse. " But in case he happens to come back
withiri the next few minutes, my dear duchesse, try and have
occasion to leave us together."
At this moment the abbe made his appearance, coming
straight towards the pair. The duchesse laughed.
" Evidently you are a witch, dear Yvonne," she said. " I
will go at once."
The abb^ came up with a sweep of his hat.
" Madame is not curtailing her promenade, I hope ? " he
asked politely of the duchesse.
"I am sorry, M. I'abbe, that we cannot both play truant
any longer. But madame de Valincour must take a little
further respite. She has been a good deal confined this last
day or two."
The gouvernante went off, and the abb^ took her place beside
the comtesse.
" Madame will permit me to report," said he, " that I had
the pleasure of seeing her brother after that unfortunate acci-
dent to the carriage. He conveyed to me a sort of message,
which madame had been so gracious as to send."
" Was the message intelligible, or worth understanding at all,
M. I'abb^ ? " asked the comtesse placidly.
"Perfectly, madame; and I accept it as equally flattering
and important. If I have not acted upon it before, it has been
simply for want of opportunity. M. le due and myself are
awkwardly placed, as you probably know."
" Yes— at present."
" At present, as you observe, madame,"
" Then I may take it, abbe, you do not at the moment
discern any advantage in being an enemy to me?"
The abb^ looked inexpressibly shocked.
" Heavens ! my dear comtesse, what an atrocity you are
suggesting ! Be so obliging as to recollect that if we had any
little differences at Madrid, it was always you who did me the
honour of attacking me."
a "Rent Squire
:hey shall not be
forehand."
I due."
? out upon the
dear Yvonne?"
was at Madrid,"
IS to come back
se, try and have
arance, coming
;hed.
" she said. " I
I hope?" he
3th play truant
it take a little
)nfined this last
ler place beside
le, " that I had
nfortunate acci-
ort of message,
rstanding at all,
[ually flattering
3re, it has been
and myself are
t the moment
me?"
rocity you are
: if we had any
ho did me the
■ i-
f
\
341
fU "J°f '^'y yo" ^\^ '■'■ght so far, abb^. You must remember
the duke frightened the poor little king terribly, and you came
;ou CiMh^'f '''^' t ''■ Naturally, oni had'to aC^
you. jjut all that is an old story now"
^'n ?/" *^^ contrary, madame. Anyone who imagines M
d Orleans to be better liked at Versailles than he wS at the
Escur,al must be blind and deaf. A leper, or a mad dog or
duke—'' ^^^^ ^' ^"''' P°P"'^^ here' compared with^he
*' Or yourself, probably ? "
.k " ^^*u^ ^ }^^1^ ^ "^y^^^^ ^^ about as much esteemed as
those three bugbears rolled into one " ^^^^emea as
'5'Rea]r'?hhi"°^K'^ "P ^' the facade of the palace,
sav dia we h.i'K!?^ remarked, "I think, from what you
evident h!? T ^'"^^ ^^^ ^^^^"^ ^°"^e bush. It is quite
windows!'' ^^'"P^""^'^^ "^y^^lf by being in front of those
will ^e 'as'sSmeHA T'^IT' ' • ""^^ °^ y^"'" ^^^^^^^ reputation
ways." labourmg to convert me to better
thrdlatVbeltir "ays^' '"^^^^^"^ ^'^ ''''' ^^ ^^ould convert
« Mn?^^ P"' ""^ ^'' ™^'' sanctimonious expression.
posse'^staralwTs— '' """' ^''' ^"^ ^ttle influence I may
noLtnse^'" ifTr^f "^ '^^ '°'^'"^^"' "' ^"^ "^t here to talk
h"Sror ll:^Z fn acrbS^h^^^ ?ot f telf ^''
vvhich, madame ? "
What would you have, dear rnmte«s- p Our -uu
sovereign himself has not been defi"cient in a^wl^'^^^^^ ^
wouM think. But the resuItsXvf S'd iscouTa^^/'' °"'
You mvite me to talk politics, abb^." ''''^""'^^S'"^
tM
i 4
34a
H ment Squire
'• Madame, I am convinced that you can talk politics better
than anyone at court. Unfortunately, that is not saying much.
One may lament that it has not occurred to anybody to make
one of the late M. de Richelieu's old boots into a prime
minister."
"Let us imagine that you and I are a pair of M. de
Richelieu's old boots, abbd, and talk politics accordingly."
" By all means, comiesse."
" We must come to the point at once, abb^, because I may
be summoned at any moment. I will begin, and you can
criticise as we go on."
The abbd took his pinch of snuff, and waved his hand with
a deprecatory air.
" On the contrary, dear comtesse," said he.
" First, then, it occurs to me to remark that our country
seems to cut a very poor figure at the present moment."
"True, madame. But not particularly new."
" Then I proceed to observe that there is nothing to prevent
it sharing the empire of the globe."
" That is quite new, madame. I wish it were true."
" Consider, abb^, for a moment. Which state ought to be
the wealthiest in the world ? "
" Spain, no doubt — if it is merely a question of the gold and
silver in its empire."
" Good. Which nation, without a single goM or silver mine
in its territory, is the most powerful in the world ? "
"Those cursed English, no doubt — at present."
"They will continue to be so, abbe."
" I do not contradict you, comtesse."
" Now listen, abb^, for this is of the utmost importance."
The abb^ put his snuff-box in his pocket, and the expression
of his face changed to one of profound attention. The comtesse
thought for a moment, and then went on,
" Let us suppose, abb^, that we had in France a ruler who
did not represent the hostility of Louis XIV. to the English —
in other words, someone who could propose an alliance with
Great Britain without being laughed at over there."
" Such as the due de Bourgogne ? "
" If you like. Then, as France has very clearly gained
neither the Spanish colonies nor anything else whatever by
putting a Bourbon at the Escurial, we owe the Escurial nothing.
Is that granted ? "
" Cerfes, comtesse," replied the abb^, almost with enthusiasm,
" more especially as you and I and the duke have all three
d his hand with
thing to prevent
of the gold and
a Ikent Squire 343
EscurLr *^ °"^ °^ ^^'''" *° ^'^""'^ someone or other at the
"Very good then, abh^. Given a ruler of France who
would be friendly w.th England, and a prime ministe?— '^
rhe comtesse stopped, and looked at the ducks in the pond
A prime minister ?" repeated the abb^. ^
A prime minister who would use all his ineenuitv to
embroil France with Spain and Portueal— -" ingenuity to
" Portugal ? " ^
" Portugal, sooner or later."
" What then, dear comtesse ? "
.he_Eng,ish as our allies .,ain^ s'ZZ/^^,^",'^ """'"«
What would you offer them ? "
"The whole of North America-to include the West Indies
wh^^rsreS^^" ''-' ''-y ^^'p^^ - - -- is
^^The abbd drew in his breath, and stared straight in front
oi/iy°c '^^■' &^'^" P^'oceeded the comtesse, "it is clear that
all the Spanish and Portuguese possessions ii the New World
are at the mercy of the English fleets, and the trooos Thai r.n
mlt'"rXvfh.V'^"''^^''^^^^
matters have been so managed that we have no fleets at ^ 1
Therefore, I suggest that we should hire the English fleets
at the price mentioned." A-ngn^n neets—
"Pnnl,? 'TJ'^' ^Pu'" ^"^ P°'"^"g^l themselves?"
sea ? ? nmT.il ^'^ /^t^-''''^^"' th^'^ possessions across the
The nhh/ ^"^- ""^fT °^ i"^PO^tance, not toys."
programme """" "'""'' ''^^^'"^ '''' ^°"^^-^'« ^'"le
final^""^ ^^° '' y^^' P"^e "Minister, madame?" he asked
„ " ^^^' . ,-^° yo" happen by chance to im^crJp^ fU.. u« „.:,,
T^" S*.^? ^'? P'""^ "^^"i^ter when he become^s kinaV" "
The abc^ looked genuinely bewildered. ^ ^
XVothmg IS more impossible," he replied.
it > I
f I
1
344
a fkcnt Squfre
'That is exactly my impression," said the comtesse.
" Then, madame, I confess I am somewhat at a loss to see
the precise utility of our amazingly interesting conversation "
"That is not the point, abbd The question is, does' my
programme appeal to you, and are you willing to join hands
in carrying it out ? "
" Perfectly willing, my dear comtesse— when it is possible "
" And without any ridiculous jealousy of the share that I
may have in making it possible? "
" Madame, I am not the one to grumble, if some soups
require two cooks. But, naturally, one is curious about the
recipe."
'' For that you must wait, abb^. In the meantime, it is
understood that we are allies?"
"I shall be a devoted one, madame. J propos I am
asharned to say that, till this moment, I had quite forgotten
the object I had in seeking you just now."
" You need nut trouble about chat— the duke sent you ? "
The abbd bowed discreetly.
" That was so, madame, I confess."
" He saw me, and was, of course, struck with me ? " asked
the comtesse quite unaffectedly.
" Of course, madame."
"You may tell him, abbd, that you duly executed your
commission, and that the answer you received was "
" Yes ? " asked the abbd, with some eagerness.
"That I have unfortunately got politics on the brain "
1^' On the brain," repeated the abbd.
"And that, with the profoundest respect, I am not prepared
to listen to a political nonentity."
The abbe chuckled.
" That will be a little new," he said. " I will give h-m
your message with religious exactitude."
While he was speaking, the duchesse de Ventadour appeared
upon the terrace and came up hurriedly
" My dear Yvonne," she said, " thtre is very bad news
Ihe doctors announce their opinion that madame is suffering
from measles, and half the court are ordering their carriages ""
During the winter of 1711-12 this disease had been
virulently epidemic in Paris and other parts of France and
Its spread was looked upon with the greatest apprehension
by all classes of society. But hitherto it had not made its
appearance at Versailles, and the result of the physicians'
consultation was, therefore, sufficiently alarming.
a ftefit Squire
imtesse.
: at a loss to see
conversation."
ion is, does my
I to join hands
345
it is possible."
he share that I
if some soups
rious about the
meantime, it is
propos, I am
quite forgotten
sent you ? "
\ me ? " asked
executed your
was "
! brain "
» not prepared
will give h'm
iour appeared
ry bad news,
le is suffering
ir carriages."
e had been
■ France, and
apprehension
i t^j'V TXlrt VtV Its
e physicians'
" Has M. d'Orl^ans been told ? " asked the abb^, looking
rather uncomfortable.
" He was one of the first to hear," replied the gouvernante.
" What did he say ? " asked the comtesse.
" He saw a crowd of the courtiers hurrying away from
madame's salon, and he called out in a loud tone that if
niadame was not too much indisposed to receive him, he
wished to pay his respects to her. Then M. de Bourgogne
came and shook hands with him very earnestly."
The comtesse looked at the abb^, and the latter, saluting,
went off murmuring to himself,
" That was rather clever of the duke."
CHAPTER XLHI
A POLITICAL CRISIS
During the remainder of Tuesday the dauphine's fever
contmued very high, and she was partly delirious. On the
following day, however, the doctors announced that their
anticipations of the symptoms turning out to be those of measles
were not realised, and that the exact nature of the attack was
still obscure.
But the satisfaction caused by this reassuring bulletin was
of short duration, and on the Thursday the news got about
that the dauphin himself was attacked by the fever, and that
the doctors insisted upon his keeping his room. He appears
at this stage of matters, to have been designedly misled as to
the real gravity of the dauphine's condition, which was now
critical in the highest degree—so much so, indeed, that her
Jesuit confessor, p^re de la Rue, recommended confession.
Ihe dauphme acquiesced in silence, and the reverend father
recognising in this a hint that she would prefer the offices
of some other confessor, at once offered to give way. The
dauphme then requested that M. Bailly, priest of the Versailles
parish mission, should be sent for.
On inquiry, it appeared that M. Bailly had gone to Paris
The dauphine^then asked for p^re Noel, who was instanMv
suiijiiiunea. ihese circumstances aroused a great deal of
excitement in the palace, which was not diminished by the
news that the confession had been of prolonged duration
r''!
346
If I
•i i
!!»;!(^
IP '
a ment Squire
anda„';^eticaLTn".ered; NeverfteFess"ft:f: ""'' ^«'""'
at night with increased sev^ViJ ,1^^ Vi ' ^ '''™'' '"urned
night^ere of the SafaS^g' eht actf"'"™'' ''"™8 *»
to tt hrz,t^'"of'itui?nr.L°ro°h'"^'''' '^^-
order to go back to Marly '°''""''' '° "^'^ -^"'"S^- ■"
daS;Le"'"bSoot™:?Lund thr"? ""^ °"' "^ '"^
couple of grooms of the cM,^^ 1^°" ™P'>'' ^"'^ f" a
to one of fheTIn a low vdce "' ''"^^"^ '"^ ^P°'"=
just pa™era"a*?'heTat^■"^.'I^^J'?r^ "" ^""'^ogne has
Af ♦^i- •'' ^ '"^ • A am going to monspiffnf^nr "
At this moment M. de Torcv entpr^rl ,, """"f g"eur.
It will be a terrihjp hlnur u- ^
yet?" ^ ^^^'^^ ^^ve you see him to-day
ea:prrsa^°what^^^h?UtetS"'^'"^ '"■ "- ■•' ^^ -o
happ'fns To^ratTonmSC 'TT^ '''' '='"'"«"-
after his majesty to Sy " ' ""^ ' ■""»' =^nd a courier
oth^r'people, and thelou^rt^UMlTed" witlT'^h'"^ ,"^"^ '°
mounted messengers denarfinT,, „ '* "'^ "^'^"^ of
marquis came bfck and wi„f f " /"'^P' Presently the
Her? he met M Bondin com „ ° ™f Th ''f P"'"'^ ™"'-
and went back a pace or Z7iL°te rISm'"'" ^'"PP""'
Bourg^gne. '' '"™^'=''8"^"." he said to the due de
hoIrSTolce"' ''■ *= '""'^y" ^l'^" «' 'he dauphin, in a
jj-'l'.."^''<i™ «nt in rather reluctantlv, a^H r™.-^ -u.
='.-^r^t;;^K:?^5'L^:^fi£:i
the dauphine had
1.
ihan seven of the
was bled again,
he fever returned
ptoms during the
ir to Marly, came
auphine was only
tie time and then
his carriage, in
^e out of the
mpty, save for a
pped and spoke
Bourgogne has
lonseigneur."
- salon and was
He went up to
iin?"
see him to-day
11, but it is too
The chancellor
send a courier
salon was left
id the news to
the clatter of
Presently the
luphin's room.
loctor stopped,
the due de
dauphin, in a
•■•f iv^miu lue
sing-gown. It
-ars since the
H ment Squire
347
preceding day, and he looked dreadfully ill. Perhaps no
one at court had been less prepared than himself for the
doctor's news, and for the moment he was completely crushed
by it. The most devoted attachment had always existed
between the royal couple, and the dauphine's many excellent
and valuable qualities had met with the warmest appreciation
from her husband. While historians are agreed that no heir
to the throne of France was ever characterised by the gifts
of statesmanship, political wisdom, indefatigable industry,
goodness of heart, and rectitude of principle in so remarkable
a degree as the due de Bourgogne, it is no less certain that
there was only one voice as to the dauphine's qualifications for
filling the place of consort to the future head of the monarchy.
The marquis bowed to the dauphin in silence, and the
latter, looking at de Torcy with haggard eyes, asked,
" You have heard, marquis ? "
" With the greatest grief, monseigneur."
"I cannot talk about it, marquis. But it is impossible
for me to remain in this place. I always detested it, as you
know, and now "
He was silent for a moment, and then .^ent on,
'• I stay here to-day, to do what is necessary, and in the
morning I return to Marly. His majesty will certainly require
my presence, and my children are in perfectly safe hands
with madame de Ventadour."
"I tell monseigneur he is by no means fit to leave the
palace," said M. Bondin earnestly. " I have requested mon-
seigneur to get the opinion of M. Fagon or M. Mardschal."
The dauphin waved his hand wearily.
"Enough, my dear doctor," he said. "I do not dispute
your judgment. But having done your duty, let me do mine
while I am able. My place is with the kinir just now. Adieu
gentlemen." '
The marquis and the doctor bowed and went out
" How do you find him ? " asked de Torcy, as they went
along the corridor.
"Much as yesterday," grumbled the doctor. "There is
no more fever than there was last night. But after a shock
like this, a man should be careful."
"I am going direct to Marly, and I will tell his majesty
what you say." ^ ^
/^ Do," said the doctor. « If the king won't believe me.
let him send that brute Fagon."
M. Fagon, it would appear, was a miracle of unpopularity,
J. (
I ■;■
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348
H •Rent Squire
not only with his professional brethren, but with everyone
else at court except his august employer. everyone
By this time the two gentlemen had entered the daunh,n'«=
salon and found there the due de Bern brother of tSe
dauphin talking to mesdames de Valincour aid de Ventadour
iTttle T'^'^i ^^ '^^ ^""^ '^^ ^^"Phin's eldest son the
little due de Bretagne, who was crying bitterly The due
de Bern looked very doleful and very frightened. "^"^
This IS a terrible affair, doctor," he said nervously " I
am glad the duchesse did not accompany me ?his mornin J
and thus learn the news without the sl^^est preSo?
Docto?dTmA"V""- '' '''''''' feel 'much Sros^S;
Doctor, do me the favour to examine my tongue and oulse
I am sure I have a little fever." tu.igue ana pulse.
M Bondin went through the usual formalities.
..M if'u '%"otf^'ng much the matter with you, M. le due »
said he, 'so far as I can see. How do you feel ?" '
1 teel enormously thirsty," replied the duke " Th=t ^^
yinces me that I have fever, /nd I dare not drlk w ne"
lest It should raise the temperature " '
imJSy."" ""' ^''' ''''' '''''''" '^'^ ^h^ doctor rather
n/lr^' ^f ^^evreuse has been telling us all that the water
of Versailles is very unwholesome, my dear doctor "
off wlK'L^mjTnT"^'^' ""• '' '"'" "'' ''' ''''''' ^^-^
solemnly "^ '' ? Ti.fT ""''u "^''" ""^'"''^^ ^^e due de Berri
solemnly. I think I might venture upon lemonade— .> d
cooling for fevers, without doubt " lemonade— it is
There were no attendants present, and madame de Valincour
offered to fetch a glass of lemonade for the duke '^^^'"'°"'^
feebly ''-TZ S""^ ?/°u"' ^°'"tesse," he said, smiling
leeoiy. I am ashamed to have to trouble you HavP vn.,
seen monse.gneur my brother, M. le marquis ?'' ' ^""^
M. de lorcy was not anxious to listen to the due rle R^rr.'o
platitudes, so he made a move to the door. ^'" '
I have just left him, M. le due, and am on mv wav tn
Marly. Adieu, monsieur-adieu, mesdames " ^ ^ °
Ihe marquis bowed to the group, and left the sainn hv
one door as madame de ValincoSr disappeared by the other '
rhe next morn, ng at seven o'clock fhe due de B^rSSne
leaving his children behind in the care of their .n„v "p^°^."!'
mcsda„,es de Ventadour and de Villefortrwent" aw^y To
It with everyone
:d the dauphin's
brother of the
d de Ventadour.
eldest son, the
terly. The due
ened.
nervously. " I
e this morning,
?st preparation.
ich indisposed.
igue and pulse.
s.
ou, M. le due,"
1?"
!. "That con-
ot drink wine,
doctor rather
that the water
or."
■ doetor, going
e due de Berri
monade — it is
e de Valineour
said, smiling
J. Have you
due de Bern's
n my way to
the salon by
' the other,
i Bourgogne,
-nt away to
a Tkent SQuire
349
This eountry seat was gulf into whieh millions of money
had been flung by U-j . ilV. When the king, looking out
for a remote rustic h>. -nitage, discovered Marly, it was a
wretched village on the slope of some hills which enclosed
a deep, narrow valley, filled with swamps. At first the royal
habitation was a mere cottage, intended to accommodate the
king and his party of not more than a dozen courtiers from
Wednesday to Saturday, twice or thrice a year. Gradually
it was turned into a place which endeavoured to rival Fouquet's
magnificent chateau at Vaux. From Compi^gne and farther,
great trees were unceasingly brought, of which three quarters
died the year they were transported. Plantations, basins,
carp-ponds, terraces, and cascades were made and unmade
a hundred times over, while forests had been changed into
lakes, and lakes back again into forests, in half a dozen
weeks.
For many years an invitation to Marly had represented
the seventh heaven to the average habitue of Versailles or
St. Germain ; while the words, " Marly, sire ! " had been the
very first to start from the tongue of any courtier to whom
the king seemed inclined to be exceptionally gracious. But
since the chateau had been relegated to the use, first of the
faineant Monseigneur, and then of his son the due de
Bourgogne, much of its sacrosanct character had vanished,
and a sojourn there was no longer regarded as a thing for
which to sell one's soul.
Arrived at Marly the dauphin found his indisposition de-
cidedly aggravated, and for the first time the serious elements
m the situation began to be realised by the court and the
public. Hitherto the due de Bourgogne had enjoyed a robust-
ness of health which he seemed to inherit rather from his
grandfather than from his father, and the problem of a possible
failure m the direct succession had scarcely presented itself
for consideration. But now it was seen that the dynasty was
liable to be faced by perils of the first magnitude. After the
old king and the dauphin, the succession went directly to
a lad of six years old. This would involve all the evils and
risks of a long regency, not under the wise and beloved
mother who now lay dead at Versailles, but under the fatuous
due de Bern, or possibly even under madame de Maintenon
and her detested Jesuits. Thus the news of the daunhJn'g
danger, and the alarm occasioned by it, spread far and wide ,
and the popular excitement brought back to people's minds
the paroxysm of emotion which swept over the country when
3SO
B Iftent Squire
I « /
1
?■ ■ •
i
i
mm
};, ^
i
1;
1
the king's life, in i686, hung upon the sin-le hair of .
dangerous operation. "^ ^"^ °^ *
The dauphin got steadily worse. The fever increa<;pH =,nH
he was devoured by a consuming fire The IZT^Zt
cle^TtS;^' V^^' themselves^s h"d bet "ot^rK: •
case of the dauphine, and again the doctors decided that tha?
disease was not present. On the iith M rkl V.
was apothecary both to the king and^ the due SeS^.'- "'^'^
came to Versailles to tell the latter thnt-.^ St Simon,
tne due de Bdurgogne was cridc^l.^' Court constamfv ^a^ °i
and repassed between Marly VersailleV nL S ^ ^^^^?^
gloomiest forebodings fi^ J^rtl;^^! ^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^
the^ churches held midnight sfr^L^tJ pl^y ^eTtie.'^
wi^,^!;:'&1otgVe'd[et^' ^'^ ''''' '^ '-'' ^^- ^^^
nel^^hn^'.h^''?""'""'""' °^ ^^" ^^"P^'"'s death came the
news that the king was utterly prostrated by the event, nf
negoutions at Utrecht were making no prole s Thif»^!
"=""')f °«"ng 'o the unpreparednels of lord St'raf&rd Th
the bishop of Bristol, the British pier, pontiarfe, Th
gentlemen had not sufficient instru«fons r^esLrd IZ
sSth^ tior?o^r;;i t&' t zr r -« ^°' «^-
™iv'eta't°Srr '^ '"'l "' ""= ^""^ °f Marlborough" h1
a^d^rn^n«ri tKt^° ?„%-
ngle hair of a
r to inHiir-o
a *eiit Squire
of Parliament, in opposition to tl,e Tory „, nistrv acctDtS^h^
^^: Snd^l?h"r; °' HanovlrrroX'^t'Cs
against the house of Bourbon ^ ^""■''' " ^'"'''-'"'"
r il-o^ioZ^^t ■" '"'? «~^ <iu?/of"K£oul'h
selves tn h^ fhil f """''^ ^' variance amongst them
pr nee received .n '^'"' "P™ ""J' ^""^^ P°l'':y- T^e
TonLX^qtlytohr world 111™ T *' p'°P'^ "^
handsome person and hf« ™™-™<ie military reputation, his
this did nofat all make uD for" hf^f™'l• '=""'"«• """
with at the audiencrgiven^ta bv th^ P°''"""" ?= "^
impenetrable reserve of lord Oxford '"""' " ^^ ""=
his'^tt'^coleSi^r with' t'Tb"'^ disappointed, and in
cert.n.y thejttst sX^Tre^cef ^X^^' ^^^ ^
would haieteenTffSem if r'''''\^>'''' "*=" "" this
orfiveweeks earlier It" Irih'"" ''""J'"" '"^^e four
perative necessity o it was rr^sened T"*' 'T^"-' '"-
we held the House of I orH? ,? ^ >'°"- A' "'at time
batch of the peace peers to he T^ '°"'^r "'">' '''"'^ ^™' a
we can do nothiL w tho^,, ,t ^T^' ^ow, it seems to me,
Bothmar to s°p^aro:'ttt"'p*n. ^'^='°'' '"" " '» '"' "^^ ^^
first, my dS Tke'" reoliTnT "'"before the prince
solitary responsibilities "^ *"""■' "'"' "^'^ "<" <="Joy
of;htag^°app"e:rs%o"'LTrrn;:c\"'' Marlborough, .'the state
The people detest p^„ervTusT»,„ t P" "'* *=" "f '688-
and have precisely .re''sanrtha?t"SolS f "^'"'
nails
Assuming all that, duke?" inquired
mc
Eugene, biting his
)
IK /
■i i : !
f'\
I I
»M .'P f
l! ■;
352
a fkcnt Squire
fh. L^ convinced/' replied the duke, - that the elector-or
the electoral prmce *if you prefer it-should issue a manifesto
announcing that the Pretendor is on his way to effec tan
mvaiion with a popish army. . Te should follow up this by his
iTuTe Th^ir %f '°'^^'?'>^*? ^"PP°^^ the Protestant
p^l^d^t^o^^t:^-^
3;'e^?entalTf the" w'a^r.'' '^^^ ''' ^ '''^' ^— ^^
As this programme was a very obvious invitation to Bothmar
and his master to pull the chestnuts out of the fire for the
" I cannot agree with you, my dear duke," he said. ■ " The
people will not swallow the idea of a popish invading army
without seeing or hearing more of it. They know, too tS
whatever feeling the queen may have for her brother? whom
she has never seen, she is herself fanatically protestant
Moreover, the slightest hitch or failure in such a scheme
wou d load my august master with the popular hatred and
fatally prejudice the chances of the Guelph succession What
we want IS something quite different "
impa^Lr; """"' '°"' P'^"' ^^'"' ^^^°"'" ^^^d Eugene
"I'i:^^?- ^° "^^' P""ce," replied Bothmar, "that as all
our difficulties are caused by one or two persons in the
government " Ftiouua m me
"Well, baron?"
thrway^''""^^"'' '°""^ """"^^ ^' '° S"^ '^""'^ P^^sons out of
" One objection to that," remarked Eugene, "is that we as
dts?e'dT^r.'^^^°^^ °' ^"^' ^ meafure.'would becl^:
. "That need not quite follow," said Marlborough. "But
nd"Jenr'therah '.' '.^"" '' hire a few score' of ruffians
ana send them about the streets at night, insultine folks
raising disturbances, and exciting mobs. After people
frriH '?f "^'^ -'^ '^''' nightly scenes of violence any Hule
accident happening to our friends at Downing Street would
be^^fathered upon the rowdies and not upon^t"
All this, gentlemen," objected Eugene, "appears to me
o leave too much to mere chance, fve must^Sw th° m'
by the norns. I presume, duke, it will quite readily happen
* Afterwards our George II.
t the elector— or
issue a manifesto
way to effect an
ow up this by his
3rt the protestant
iged against the
ly like her father,
government and
ation to Both mar
the fire for the
eive it with any
he said. - " The
1 invading army
know, too, that
f brother, whom
=ally protestant.
such a scheme
lar hatred, and
^cession. What
' said Eugbne
r, "that as all
persons in the
' persons out of
" is that we, as
would become
rough. " But,
core of ruffians
insulting folks,
-r people have
ence, any little
; Street would
us."
ippears to me
t take the bull
eadily happen
a •Rent Squire 353
that the guards on duty at St. James's palace may some night
• be commanded by an officer favourable to our cause ? "
seJerYl!»^°"' '^°"^''" '"^"'"^ '^' ''"^'- "^ ^^"^'^ "^^
"Very good. Then I suggest that on such a night we
arrange to set fire to London in various places and to the
palace. In the confusion, the duke shall arrive at the head
of an armed party, seize the Tower, the Bank, and the person
of the queen, compel her to dissolve the present parliament
and summon another, and impeach the ministry for clandestine
cor^respondence with France. What do you say to that!
adj^umer"^'' '"''"' ^' "^ *° ^'"^ '^^^ ^^' discussion might be
"All this makes a considerable demand upon me, prince"
repl^fng!" "^ ^ '^°"^^ ^'^' '" ^°"^"^^ ^^ friends^Se
The prince could not very well demur to this, and the
conference broke up. But when some of the Whig leaders
notably lords Somers Cowper, and Halifax, were informed of
the prince's proposals, they absolutely refused to entertaiV
hem for a moment, and were only willing that Bothmar
should issue a special representation, on the part of the
elector, against the peace. The baron, who had fhe wa mes'
approval for schemes of the Whigs in which he was no
expected to take part, declined to move personally whhou
.ftpSi^^:^».^:-^L^^^^
a fresh proposition. This was that the elector shonMh!
appointed generalissimo of the troops fn Flanders and
governor-genera of the Netherlands, and that his eldest 4n
the electoral pnnce, should come over to Enghnd to nlac'
himself at the head of the Whigs ■•^"guna to place
under it would be extinguished for ever ~ All th^ wfc""
^TlJ'V ^'' ^!^ V" secret ZtMalo^ough^re"!
Objection to the prince's last programme was that it would
23
I I
s ift;|
;i, i
ii ■ ;
354
H ftent Sqi'fre
place the elector m precisely the place which the duke
intended to reserve for himself in case of emergency
The prmce thus found himself repulsed on all sides and
angnly accused his fellow-conspirators of being at hearl
nothmg but republicans who were determined to have no
kmg at all, Guelph or Stuart.
It happened very conveniently for the ministry (and also
reoorted ^TT""^ '^'', '!"''' ^^^'^^^ conversaUns were
^po ted to them regularly as they occurred. For some
months past a certam Irish Jesuit named Plunket, who hTd
been brought up at Vienna, and was an intimate fn;nd of the
coS : of th?al.h '"T^' '^' '^''''''"^ ^^°"^ ^ha^ ^"-tronary
copies of the ambassador's correspondence with the emperor
P.nn ."vf 'A T^'^l'^'T. *° ^°^d Oxford through WmLm
Penn the Quaker, he laid these letters before him The
ord-treasurer took them to the queen, with the St that
they at once settled with her the question of mak nca
separate peace with France at all costs. ^
As Eugfene promptly conveyed the details of his various
T^JZw '^ '^' r^^^^^dor. who forthwith wrote abou
them to his imperial master, the information in question a
SyTloVoxtd^'^r ""^^^^y' ^^^" ^° Plunkerand
nna y to ord Oxford. The ministry were, therefore nerfprtlv
familiar with all the stages of the intrigue, ind rconsem^^^^^^
took every precaution to guard against a roup d^etat. "''^"^"'^
During the celebration of the queen's birthday, February 17th
donhl^f "^H^'- J""?'^'' P^^"^^ were closed, the guaSs were
doubled, and several detachments of cavalry were stationed
orince' S'^°"^'°°^- Under the pretext Vsa7e4uTding
prince Eugbne against the expected pressure of the mob
some troops were appointed to attend him; but °hese weTe iri
reahty intended to act as spies. The queen had been ter fb v
W^t?'1.^^°:;" °^ '^^ ^"^^^^ suggestions of the more reckle s
sS To forrf P'°P"''^ '° J^'^^ ^ ^""^"^^ i" the crowded
Oxford q/m ''""l '"!." ^^^ ^'■^^^"^y' ^"d to assassinate
Oxford, St. John, and the lord-chancellor Harcourt To
reassure her majesty, and also to be on the safe s de h mself
and St Tnh^''? apartments in the palace, while Harbour t
dark ^'-But all the^h'"'' "°' '" i^^^'^ ^^^'^ h°"«^« ^T
oark. But all the three were careful to keep the causp nf
hese precautions rigorously secret, and thus probacy averted
a serious popular outbreak. "u^uiy averiea
While these more private matters were joing on the
proceedings in parliament were not running alto.ghe'r smoothlj
5 which the duke
emergency.
1 on all sides, and
•f being at heart
nined to have no
ministry (and also
onversations were
jrred. For some
Plunket, who had
mate friend of the
m that functionary
with the emperor,
through William
before him. The
th the result that
ion of making a
lils of his various
with wrote about
on in question at
» to Plunket, and
herefore, perfectly
d in consequence
' d'etat.
ay, February 17th,
, the guards were
ry were stationed
of safe-guarding
lire of the mob,
but these were in
had been terribly
the more reckless
t in the crowded
nd to assassinate
■ Harcourt. To
safe side himself,
while Harcourt
sir houses after
!ep the cause of
probably averted
going on, the
ogether smoothly
a meat Squire 3-5
his secretary Cardon'neTfrom hisCt' in1h'''?T '"^ ^^"^^
the Lords a new difficulty had arisen ' "°"'"- ^"' '"
recomS^Vthe retnTderaf"^' TL ^^ ^^^ ^ — ge,
patent. But many of The Jn! " °^ '^^ ^"^" °^ HamiltoS'
particularly in SvfwUh thesf bX'"' ^^VVon^x. were not
■majority could be Jo out of direcf F ^fT'' '° '°"g ^« ^
duke's peerage was thprlf^l F"^''''' creations. The
without '.ny'decS ^ nf co^eV'ESt ^h'"l ^'^^°"-'
struck work in a body declaring fL.'.K the Scottish peers
in an assembly which ' re utS?o SLnrse T"'^ "° ^°"^^^ ^^^
rights. Thus the Whig oDDositfon^ ff v ^"' constitutional
delight, found itself once more in Tr;n- ^^ ^"?,a^ement and
proceeded to utilise and on L ^°"^^- ^^'^ '^ ^^ once
the abbe Gaultier sem hv .n . ^''^"'"^ °^ February icth
letter to M. de Torcy • ^ "'P''"'' "^^^senger the following
" M. LE MARQUIS,
car^^nVV ti: 'Z^^'^'l ^^»-oo„ the House of Lords
lord Halifax, to the effeTthJt an ?hh " ^'^""^^^ ^^^^^^rd by
to her maiesty ' signifvinl fhi ?" ^^'^'"^ss should be presented
the specific timro£eVbvThi^F''°^^''*^y"^«^
at Utrecht on February ist on L^J,?'r P ^"'Potentiaries *
X v.. . d promising ^to stand hv i f ^'^ "^^^t^ ^ouis
with their lives and fortunes in nrn^«.?- ^'"u^ '^^ "^J^^ty
utmost vigour.' ^""unes, m prosecuting the war with tlie
Gaultier de Beauval "
r„r ^"' of Madame de M^So ■' «\^o h"a'p^::^ To t
seen, to be fishtin» L^'n'f „; ..^''' ''">' ^'^'^ "' 'heir courses
The n,arqu.e, Vo had been a good dea, upse. by ehe
•M„.cha,d'U„to,„d,heabbed.P„|,s„„.
11 ■ *'
l".f,
356
a Ikent Squire
deaths of the dauphine and the dauphin, read the letter with
a haggard face.
"Say rather, M. le marquis," she replied, "that it is the
hand of Providence, the judgment of Heaven upon us for
toleratmg m our midst that demon the due d'Orleans. What
can one expect otherwise ? "
In his grief and anxiety the marquis quite lost patience at
this diatribe.
" Pooh ! madame," he snapped, taking the letter back
brusquely, " there are worse people than M. d'Orldans. Let
us talk a little sense."
The marquise drew herself up, and her eyes glittered
malignantly.
"Do you then wish me to believe, M. le marquis, that
you have no suspicions?"
" Suspicions, madame ? What about ? "
" As to the author of these fatalities ? "
^'' You have just attributed them to Providence, madame."
" Providence may in its wisdom employ agents. M. le
marquis." >■ ■> o
" Agents, madame ? "
"Yes, monsieur— willing agents, who are none the less
accursed because they are willing."
"I do not understand you, madame. Be more explicit "
The marquis bit her lips.
"Since you prefer to ignore what is under your eyes M
le marquis, I will point out to you that if M. le due d'Orl'eans
intends to make his daughter queen of France, he has un-
doubtedly made a very fine beginning."
ii
w -
CHAPTER XLIV
WHAT M. DE TORCY HEARD AT CALAIS
The marquis could scarcely restrain his indignation at this
innuendo.
"Good heavens! madame," he said, "that is a monstrous
thing to say — if you are serious."
" If I am serious, monsieur ? Is that the sort of thing that
passes for a iest with vov. ■* "
" At all events, madame, jest or earnest, I beg that you
will keep your theory to yourself till you have better grounds
ad the letter with
, "that it is the
.'en upon us for
I'Orleans. What
: lost patience at
the letter back
d'Orleans. Let
r eyes glittered
le marquis, that
ice, madame."
' agents, M. le
none the less
lOre explicit."
r your eyes, M.
le due d'Orleans
ice, he has un-
LAIS
gnation at this
is a monstrous
rt of thing that
beg that you
better grounds
n Tkcnt Squire 357
u"^- '*• ^VY ,f<^!"'^^"s is to be credited with everything that
brmgs M. de Bern nearer to the succession, vou may as well
Monseigne"ir/' ^'"'"'' "'^ °^ '^' '''' '^'"^ °^ ^P^'" ^"^ °f
" Monsieur, you may think as you please. But what would
due d'Al!jou ? '^"'"^ ^'^^""""^ '° '^^ ^"' ^^ ^'"'"^'"^ °^ *he
"It is quite enough, madame, to lose two heirs to the
monarchy in ess than a twelvemonth, without speculating
upon the utterly improbable contingency you mention. What
is at present the only thing of consequence is the constitution
of the regency which must, in the ordinary course of things
be called upon before very long to govern the country." ^
.J V\ l^ u''^ ^^^'^' ^^^ "^^'■^"•s h^d thrown out upon
the subject to the marquise, and he hoped that she would
give some hint of her own intentions in connection with it
Everybody knew that her devotion to the cause of the Tesu ts
was only rivalled by her determination to advance at ^1
costs the interests of the two sons of the king whom she had
ofTr owS' "rtf" '"PP^il^' ^" ""'' ^^^ I^-^ «f -^"d'^n
Montespan the due du Maine and the comte de Toulouse
who had been from the cradle so entirely in the hands of
madame de Maintenon that their own mother had never at
any time meant anything to them whatever. It w^ the
common talk that, sooner or later, the marquise would succeed
m squeezing her foster-children into the charmed circle of
recognised royalty, and thereby make a counterweight to the
claims of the due de Berri and the due d'Orldans The delth
tl .hA'"PK\^'J^ immediately been followed by rumours
that the two bastards were to be put upon a council of regency
1 whoT;; "s'uVe'o'f Tt^^'V"'- "^"^^"^ '^ --'"-'
ine wnoie pressure of the king's Jesuit entourage would be
On Z .? "T'% ^Z "^^ ^"^ ^" ^^i"^ the sde Regency
?n M. if ^^"^' '^^' ^"''"''°" ^o"ld be such an oKe
on the legitimate princes in the direct line, to say notS
of the great princes of the blood, the due deBourbLcond?
the prince de Conti, and the due de Vendome th.f 2 '
Ijople expected the king could be won over % conslnT
to it. But, m either case, it was obvious that recent event,
had enormously added to the probable irnportance o7 th'
Maintenon party in the fuMir^ r^oi.^.v. „f /iTT""^"^® C
T„W Tf'% however, •re?uQ";o te 'drawn" T/'lJi- de
Torcy's hint and contented herself with saying, ^
ji
358
a 1kcnt Squire
yJii^L*** "^n *?'u.'^ marquis, it is evident we must wait
"We must not forget, madame, that this Gauhier hn»
stood thac d'Sx4sld°d:- pSgS^cT^vl'LtV"^"-
egregiously at Utrecht" ■^""gnac Have been bluffing
relldThVSqS '"""=" '° '" ^" *« "^ '""^ Oxford,"
worst." -^"feo'ng at. ihat, however, is not the
" What else, M. le marquis ? "
su p'^se-lt1,iT'tre;r,^•d^!.';l;aeTr„;° •■;' '^^^■'"^•
die to-morrow, is it not certain halthlr,!^ ??''>' ""^ '<>
^^the^^mi.;, .ou,d rrcnu^?„^cr^>rs^-^
™gu!?ded'/' ""'""' ''' "•™«™"=!" cried the marquise
because the A^ST ciaim^nrtoTZnTof stin^'L^
in the meantime actually become emnZr nf ?:.'>P^'" hjis
The marquise promptly fell into this trap.
ihis was all the marquis had been fishing for.
.elf_t^1,"ir« '°';"f."'^duc du Maine," he said to him-
'ilT~u' '^ '"^ "iaKc ins aaieux.
i hon, you may prove a true prophet, madame," he
ient we must wait
able to tolerate any
rt in its discussion.
it for the moment,
this Gaultier has
late. Lord Oxford
ye— why, I cannot
uch more behind
I it is quite under-
ave been bluffing
U by lord Oxford,"
3 better than get
md thus lose his
st reconsider our
ar some morning
g terms that we
ver, is not the
1 to the regency.
majesty were to
of Spain, as head
laim to be sole
d the marquise
gland, madame,"
aver the Allies
le of Spain has
of Germany, do
could persuade
France who was
lay rest as. ..■ ,:
•f Spain to ft,,.
he said to him-
madame," he
'H
It
a *i?ent Squire 359
remarked aloud " For, in spite of ihe ability of mau-w;.e des
Ursms, It would p ace us in a very ;ivvkward position. Apropos
madame, it rather surprises me thai you do not see the hand
of the princesse in our deph.rable bereavements— she has
Sam" '^ """'^ ^° ^'''" "^ *^®™' '" ^^^- ^^'^"'
With these Parthian shafts the marq-Ms bowed himseli
out, leaving madame de Maintenon to fume over the bare
Idea of the Spanish catnerara mayor coming back to Versailles
to effect her former patron's political extinction.
The n.arquis went directly to the rooms he occupied at
the chateau where he found his secretary and nephew
i.avalr.ye waiting for him. ^
•' R.^nd," he said, "this news from England is very awkward
and there is so much time lost in going and coming betweeri
here and Calais that I think of staying there for a few days to
"r^thi^'gnt?'''"^ ''°" '^°"'^°"- «^^^ y- ^^-d
•| People are whispering about the due d'OrMans "
NotWngtsV?''^' "'"^ ''°"''" ^'' ^''^^ ^''^^'"S "'^^^^y' ^'^^"•
r Jln?» '^ '' ^ ^°°^ *^'^' °^ ^^'^ °^ ^h^ due du Maine as
regent.
. "^^^?^^ll """"'u^f ^Sg from the same nest-do your best '
nnH P ^k'P; ^^l'^ '^P"""^' ^'■^ "o^ «^t ^f^^^ut for nothiuM
S2 o k". ^f ^'" ^^' ^ '''''^ °^ b^'"S stone-deaf just when
he ought to hear a fly walking "
ceiw"' Hptn^P^f "'' ""^T ^^ P°"t^hartrain, was the chan-
cellor. He had previously been secretary of state, was descended
fZ I \f^r 1 ')' ''''' "«^^^' ^"d had a son who at th^
time held it In fact, this function was filled by his famUv
uninterruptedly during the hundred and sixty-five years between
1610 and ,775-m modest emulation of the Montmorencis
dukes of Luxembourg, who had furnished an almost unbroken
Tentury "'"'''' '"' '°"^^^^^^^ °^ ^^^'^^^ since the e,e^^^^^^^^
The marquis in due course arrived at Calais, and presented
himself, as in duty bound, at the governor's hoise. He made
arrangements to send over messages at once to Loi^on
Lf SL?r!i^^^fit "^^^ r despLL trS;
for de^is;;nh^deidi:;k wi;^ ti^iJs; ^.Tilrls
he and M. Daguerre went into the salon,^here they found
-ir
.1 !■
if
360
a Ikent Squire
! 1
mk'-
i I
■- =
■
■ ' *<
•iN
mademoiselle Victoire waiting for them. The marquis delivered
the compliments of M. Ren^ de Lavalaye, which the young
lady acknowledged with a curtsy.
"Have you told M. le marquis the news?" she asked
of her father, as soon as the conventions had been duly
attended to.
"What news, my dear?" inquired the governor, who had
heard a good many things lately.
" About our guest of two months back, M. Gwynett."
'' Parbleu ! no— it had slipped my memory. A deplorable
affair, M. le marquis. Did you happen to hear of it ? "
" I have heard nothing of M. Gwynett since he left France,"
replied de Torcy. " What has happened ? "
" Something incredible, monstrous, frighiful ! " cried Victoire.
" M. Gwynett has been hung."
" What ! murdered ?" exclaimed the marquis.
" No — executed on the gallows ! "
The marquis looked at Victoire with an air of stupefaction.
" Impossible ! " he ejaculated finally.
"Unfortunately, there appears to be no doubt about it,"
said the governor. " My dear, find that newspaper for M. le
marquis."
Victoire brought out a London broadsheet, dated February
7th, which contained an account of the execution at Maid-
stone, and gave all the known details of the supposed
murder.
" This reached us with a parcel of others from England
about a week ago," went on M. Daguerre. "I intended to
inform you of the matter, but these terrible events at court put
it out of my head. You see, it is quite circumstantial-
Ambrose Gwynett of Thornhaugh. That was his name and
place, was it not ? "
The marquis perused the paper with amazement and
indignation.
" It is perfectly scandalous," he said. " M. Gwynett murder
a companion for the sake of a few louis d'or ! Nothing will
induce me to believe it. In fact, these people seem to have
been in too much of a hurry. How could they be sure any-
body was murdered at all ? "
" That is rather a curious point, M. le marquis. We have
had a man here who seemed to know a good deal about the
affair. He was at this Deal inn on the" night in question.
There appears to have been an eye-witness of the actual
encounter between the two men, and it was he who instigated
a Ikent Squire
361
he marquis delivered
'e, which the young
news?" she asked
)ns had been duly
governor, who had
M. Gwynett."
lory. A deplorable
hear of it ? "
ince he left France,"
ful ! " cried Victoire.
rquis.
air of stupefaction.
10 doubt about it,"
lewspaper for M. le
eet, dated February
execution at Maid-
; of the supposed
hers from England
e. "I intended to
events at court put
te circumstantial —
was his name and
1 amazement and
M. Gwynett murder
I'or ! Nothing will
sople seem to have
Id they be sure any-
marquis. We have
raod deal about the
night in question.
less of the actual
he who instigated
the arrest of M. Gwynett. Nevertheless, this witness did not
appear at the trial, or even at the examination before the
magistrate."
" That seems remarkable. Who is your informant ? "
" An English smuggler who does a little business now and
again in carrying letters across the Channel. He is the man
who has started with your letters."
The marquis looked mechanically at the paper for some
moments, and then laid it down with a lugubrious sigh.
" This is really a shock to me, my dear governor. I had a
great regard for that young fellow. He was one of the only
two or three men that I have met in all Europe who gave one
the instinctive feeling that they were equal to any conceivable
emergency. It takes a great deal off one's mind to have that
kind of person within reach, I can assure you— when it
happens."
" We ourselves were greatly taken with him," remarked M.
Daguerre, for himself and his daughter.
"It makes me quite uncomfortable to think of a little
prophecy I made him the first day h«^ came to Versailles,"
said the marquis. "I told him he was, like Polycrates, too
lucky, and that some disaster was certainly awaiting him.
^Ve had a joke about that brig he brought from Cadiz, to
the effect that he was not to sink it by way of conciliating
fortune." ^
" Ah ! the F/eur de Zw— that reminds me of something
else I was going to tell you. We sent the brig under
convoy to Ostend, as I daresay you recollect, and de-
livered her to a consignee there named by yourself in your
instructions."
" Certainly," said the marquis.
T "'^^^ boatswain of my galley, an Ostend man named
Lestraade, has a cousm at that port, a sailor, who was engaged
as one of the crew, to take this Fleur de Lys from Ostend to
bchevenmgen and thence to London."
^" Well ? " asked the marquis a little anxiously.
" It appears this cousin and his mates got very drunk and
set the brig on fire after leaving Scheveningen. She burnt to
the water's edge, and then sank."
"Good heavens ! '' exclaimed the marquis. " Was anything
of the cargo saved ? " ■' 6
" I really do not recollect that she had any cargo," replied
he governor. " In any case, I think that nothing could have
Deen saved. The captain and crew were taken off in the nick
U i
I
362
S Ikent Squire
of time by a Nantucket cod-schooner, which landed the
Flemish sailors at the Texel anH tr^r^l fK^ i^nuea me
■n^ni r^ t ^cxei, ana took the captam on to
Deal. Curiously enough, the people of the schooner were
some sort of relatives of the captain of the brig >,''''^' ^^'^
thiln^w'S^re""'' ^"^"^' ^^'"'^"^ °^^^"^^^ bearings of
" 9ur disasters seem never to be ended," he said to himself
'It IS just possible the duke transferred the chests to ^ome
other hiding-place before he left the Hague. But if he did Z
then that million sterling is at the bott'om of the ea and w^
have beggared ourselves for nothing. He wil betrav us
mthout scruple if he has losf the monly. I shouM very rXuch
doy^ith-Gllas.'!^^ '-' '^^^^ ''' -- -^- he SeTto
This latter piece of information, it may be said, had reached
~'" bntt^tn^^^^^ T"^' '' the 'amtsSdor's
secretary, ± lunket, lord Oxford, and the abb^ Gaultier aftpr
the fashion detailed in the previous chapter. ' ^'
final^ '' "' ^°"«i"«fLestraade's?" asked the marquis
"I have no idea," replied M. Daguerre. " But Lestraade
himself ,s downstairs, if you would like%o see him^^"
1 should," said the marquis.
M. Daguerre sent for the boatswain, who promptly made
I'^it'srhisTbHitr'Butr"' ^- '^ ^^^'^y^ '^eZnitoti
^ S^t^t ^ll^Z^l-f^ r^tkeTqt
wer7.^f'verv tuT^'' ^^ [' "^''^^•^"'^'" ^^ '^^^^ "^hat they
" Then how did you get to know the details ? "
lately."""" "'P'"'"' ^' '" "^"^'l"''- ^^ ^^^ ^een here twice
" What is his name ? "
'' Kermode, the consignee of the brig at Ostend " nut
m the governor. " Hp is the -nrnf--'-- ' ^""l^^^^y^ put
now." — 1^ me amuggici x spoKe ol just
The marquis recollected that this was the person whose
u
a Ikent Squire
363
liich landed the
le captain on to
e schooner were
ig.»
!r the bearings of
2 said to himself,
i chests to some
But if he did not,
the sea, and we
: will betray us
hould very much
■n he refused to
aid, had reached
he ambassador's
€ Gaultier, after
ked the marquis
" But Lestraade
lim."
promptly made
[uestions to the
that his cousin,
to Dunkerque,
e F/euf' de Lys
aid, "that they
t none of them
was lucky they
themselves in
off bodily— all,
ill drunk when
)een here twice
Ostend," put
spoke of just
person whose
name was brought to him by Cardonnel after he had parted
from the duke at Eekeren.
"AH this is curious," he cogitated to himself, "I rather
wonder the duke has not thought fit to say something about
it— after all, we only lent him the brig. Possibly he heard of
the execution, and thought M. Gwynett had no further use
for the ship. On the other hand, he is quite capable of
removing those chests secretly, and afterwards sinking the
brig to provide an excuse for jockeying us." Then he asked
aloud,
" How often does this Kermode turn up here ? "
" It is quite an accident, monsieur," replied Lestraade. " It
depends upon business. He is well known to all the people
of M. le chevalier de St. George, and sometimes he is fairly
busy carrying letters and passengers across the channel. At
other times one sees nothing of him for months."
" Let me know if he returns here before I leave," said the
marquis, with a nod of dismissal.
Lestraade saluted and went out. Victoire, who had not
found the later subjects of discussion very interesting, brought
round the conversation to the recent events at Versailles and
Marly, and catechised the maiquis as exhaustively as she
dared upon the various details of the circumstances in question.
The marquis did his best to satisfy her curiosity, and then
begged to be allowed to retire for the night.
The next morning he found himself suffering from an attack
of jaundice, brought on, as he conjectured, by nothing but
worry. But he thought the change of air at the seaside
would be hkely to do him good, and so decided not to cut
short his visit. For several days he crawled about, not ill
enough to be compelled to take to bed, and too unwell to
throw off the gloom which the disastrous occurrences of the
last few days had inspired in him. The tragic termination
to Gwynett's short career had come upon him with a shock
all the greater from its entire unexpectedness, while the utter
uncertainty in which he was plunged regarding the duke of
Marlborough's intended action depressed his spirits to zero.
One morning, about a week after his arrival, he was driving
down to the port with M. Daguerre, when the governor drew
ms attention to a short and enormously stout man who had
just landed on the beach from a small lugger
c *'^^^^ il.f>""'°'^^'" ^'^ "^'d- "i^robabiy he has letters
for you. Will you speak to him ? "
The marquis signified assent, and the footman was sent to
^1i
364
a Ikent Squire
h. '
if?
t' it
fetch up the captain, who was just about to go to the governor's
house with the expected despatches. When he camlup to
the carnage he saluted and handed over a package of letters.
" Captain," said the governor, "you can say you deHvered
your letters at first hand. This is M. de Torcy for whom
we convoyed that brig to Ostend. M. le maS wouTd b^
interested to hear a few particulars of the rescue of?ourself
and the crew when the ship was lost." yourseu
A peculiar expression, which the marquis felt himself unable
to mterpret, flashed for a moment across the capta^s face '
foreS!" ' '''^''^'" ^' '^P^^"^' ^°"^h'"g his
.Z ^"""^ 7°" 5"^ """"'F ^° d'scharge at Ostend or anywhere
ds^e, captain Kermode?" asked the marquis, in a careless
•' No, your honour. There were a couple of dozen puncheons
stay'eS'thei.'""'' " ''' '°^' "'^'^ ^ '°°^ ^^^ «-' ^m the"
brigt" ■' ^""^ ^""^ ^'^ ^°"' ""^^ '''^"^Se to lose you the
"Couldn't say for certain, your honour. Guess thev
broached the liquor casks and took a supply to the foLstle
Anyhow, she was in a blaze up to the cross-trees before we
sighted assistance, and all those fellows as drunk as a boilld
owl, lying about like logs." ^^
M.'DaJueVetL'm^."'" '"*^°"""^' '^''"'^^ <" y--'
fo^Mf-fe'erf ^mfne"" '™''"' "' '"'""'=''"' "^^-^ "^
" Where did she come across you ? "
"Off Texel, your honour. It was no use taking the
Dutchmen to England, so we watched our chance of t de
and wind, and rowed them ashore near Koog. They all
got home safely, I believe." ^ ^
" Was the Fleiir de Lys afloat then ? "
,h" ^.\ ^°!"' ^°"°"'- ^""^ h^'^ an hour after we left her
about five leagues from shore." '
II Of course, you reported your loss in England ? "
Yes your honour Went to London to lord Marlborough."
Why ? asked the marquis, who was rather startled at
the open connection of the duke's name with the affair
iiecause we were under convoy of his ship, the Mermaid
H fkcnt Squire
36s
o to the governor's
-n he came up to
ackage of letters,
say you delivered
Torcy, for whom
iiarquis would be
rescue of yourself
"elt himself unable
captain's face,
lied, touching his
tend or anywhere
uis, in a careless
dozen puncheons
ler over, but they
to lose you the
ir. Guess they
' to the fo'castle.
s-trees before we
Irunk as a boiled
Jlatives of yours,
ucket, owned by
use taking the
chance of tide
oog. They all
fter we left her,
,nd ? "
i Marlborough."
ther startled at
h the affair.
>, the Mermaid,
B. But we got
This reply relieved the marquis. Not knowing what migh.
have passed between Marlborough and Kermode ^.% to the
ownership of the Fleur de Lys, he decided to make no
reference to this last matter. But he was desirous of learning
something about Gwynett's arrest, and accordingly remarked,
" There was a curious affair, captain, that I have heard
about from M. Daguerre — that murder at Deal. You were
in the inn at the time, he tells me ? "
" A little before, your honour — an hour or so."
" What was that story abo^'*: an eye-witness of the murder ? "
" Some fellow had a yarn about seeing the scuffle, your
honour, and it was he that gave the alarm. But next day
he was gone."
" Has he r.ot been seen since ? "
"Well, your honour, some folks said he turned up at the
hanging. I don't know that I ever saw him myself. The
people at the inn put him down for a Frenchman."
It did not appear that the captain could elucidate matters
very much further, so the marquis dismissed him, and returned
to the governor's house to decipher his despatches. These
contained the intelligence that after a good deal of coaxing
the Scotch peers had been persuaded to make up matters
with lord Oxford, and had returned to their party allegiance
in the House of Lords. On the other hand, the death of
the due de Bourgogne had as yet made no difference in the
avowed intentions of the Tory ministry. As the need for
his absence from court seemed to M. de Torcy to have for
the present passed away, he decided that he would rather be
indisposed at Versailles than at Calais. He therefore took
his leave of the governor and his daughter, and set out on
his return to Paris.
During the journey he had occasion to notice the increasing
uneasiness manifested by the public at the state of matters
in the political world. Everywhere the most sinister rumours
were in circulation. The king was said to be dying, and the
Jesuits were only awaiting his last breath to seize upon the
government. The peace negotiations were broken off, and
the Allies were in full march for the frontier, determined this
time to carry out an actual invasion. The due d'Orl^ans had
placed himself at the head of an armed revolt against madame
de Maintenon's party. The due du Maine was already at
the head of affairs, and was going to put the due d'Orldans
in the Bastille. To these canards was added, nearer Paris,
the charge against the due d'Orl^ans of poisoning the dauphin
^1
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366
a ikent Squire
"Go on straight to Versail es"i,Vi?h. ^ ""''■"
notice that fhe ^00 oach fl ?h. , """ ^^ ^^' ^'^^^^ to
impassable by the CSs o? 1 vl^'i"'" ^"'/^"^"''^^ ^^^^^^t
win'dow to as'cetifthe^fus'r nt wl'^'n'L^^^^^^ ^^
when he observed that the crowd wafs lent anH^K f'''"'^
face, as the carriaj^p Maht^ a^ui ■' ^"^ ^"^t every
of the assembled multitude A v^^f c^k , ^ " *"^ ^^''^
.he .„.„.. a.,d cties bte fj^^t^S Lt£t^
-IjS'ento^p-p'ed: aS" rl?; w"ne7Z\ "' , *^
Bretf/ner^JJed te^ ^:^::^' "*^ ''-P'"". '"e duo de
le road groups of
ind rumours from
de Torcy reached
1 passing through
to and fro, and
hotels of leading
en struggling for
tion and his in-
)me and to bed.
ove through the
>ws and ask the
body is shouting
i poisoners ! ' "
marquis angrily,
all that old she-
y covered when
pass the carriage
was alarmed to
•endered almost
he let down the
I more alarmed
and that every
expressed grief,
i the marquis
is entering the
upon the ears
d to arise from
h had hitherto
irquis, as the
by Lavalaye,
ew misfortune
Ik.
in, the due de
a Ikent Squire 367
CHAPTER XLV
UNCLE AND NEPHEW
The marquis learned later that the little dauphin had been
increasingly ill for several days past, and that, by a curious
fatality, three successive bulletins to this effect had failed to
reach him— the first messenger having fallen ill on the road,
and the two later ones having passed the marquis on his
return journey without knowing it.
The death of a third heir to the monarchy was the signal
for a vehement renewal of the attacks upon the due d'Orleans
which emanated from the party of madame de Maintenon
and the due du Maine, and the court was assiduously plied
with rumours that the ' c/iambre ardente ' was to be reconstituted
to inquire into the unparalleled fatalities which had overtaken
the royal family.
1 J^^'^'^'^'''^"'^ rt/'a'(?;//^' was a renewal by Louis XIV of an
old tribunal, employed at intervals since the time of Francis I
for the discovery and extirpation of heresy. The last court
had been established in 1677 to investigate the wide-spread
crimes which had followed upon the career of the notorious
marquise de BrinviUiers, and which were chiefly associated
with the equally notorious Catherine Montvoysin, nee Deshayes,
usually called La Voysm. To this woman half of the courJ
and he parliament seemed at one time or other to have
resorted, either to obtain poisons, to get rid of children
whose impending arrival was inconvenient, or to celebrate
the famous messes mires ' which were to secure the good offices
of the Power of Evil in furtherance of their ambitions. Thei
ealousies, or their hatreds. A perfect epidemic of murder
sorcery, and sacrilege raged through the fashionable world
at this period under the auspices of the La Voysin gang
The peeresses de Vivonne (sister-in-law of madame de
Montespan), de Bouillon, de Soissons (mother of prince
Eugene), de Vitry, de Polignac, de Tingry, de Rou?e de
la Ferte, de Duras, the dues de Vendome and de Luxen^bourg
h^ZT f'T^^y distinguished personages, were showrl
by the court to have patronised La Voysin fo; purposes in
^filr?,;r:i ?^f, -"-->• :r^^ bodiL of twS tCsanS
nrc ..undxcu children were admitted to have been disposed
of in a furnace at the back of her cabinet. The number of
cases of poisoning shown to have been carried ou^wTth h?r
368
H ment Squire
assistance alarmed Louis XIV hpvnnri r««« ^ .
ft was finally discovered thaT' mS'e TStestntaS
burnt alive or otherwise executed, and for a generatfon after
wards her profession was practically extinguish
J3ut of late rumours had been currer^ that "the r/S/^ ^f
poisoning, sacrilege, and sorcery had founa fresh .rf.?
the whole popu/ation ofVersaiHes and Paris 'oTfrenTo'f
suspicion and denunciation. Thanks to the assM ,„„. ? 5 °i
.nnuendos of madame de Main.enon and thTduc du Main"e
nearly everyone believed that the due d'OrS^L ■ . Tj
to get rid of all the members of the ro;al family who stoM In
the way of the succession of his son-in-law the due de Berri
Luckily for the little due d'Aniou, who was still If Vh.
ie'^mZt'ZrTrr *^ ^''^'^^^ "^ ^nt^dour^and
ae viiietort took a different view of the matfpr ThlZ
ladies openly ascribed the deaths of the duTde BreTa.ne
and his parents to the incapacity of the doctorrnnr^ rSc-?^f
refused to allow them to\terfere with the Va^itarff
They kept him warm, and nursed him with 'he^ utmost care-
When the royal surgeons insisted upon bleeding him f L f
adies set the whole of the medical st^ a defianL Selt^^^^^^^
to barricade themselves and their charge in thdr roo^s^
a finger were attempted to be laid upon him by anTone e^ceot
themselves. Whether Louis YV ^ver o«.p..„:/_1 .^ "^ ^^^^i^^.
any gratitude to these faithTul ' iuardhl^orhirh" kT'*?
history unfortunately does not record babyhood,
a Ikent Squire 369
At Marly the court was in a state of the sreatp<it r^nf.,.-
that the new dauphin was dying or dead Nn Vl^^ fl
^fnVeL^ ?'afo„st;\H? *s' '^rr^' ~= -'
for t";e?''l":r-™i" P^'<^ « 3r^Sa'
the Maimenof ;:';;. '"'*'"' "'^ ^^"-'"•^"^ »^<i^ by aU
About noon on the day following the <1pafh „f fK. j
Bretagne the courtiers were par fi?d L thl , ^ ^"^ "^^
that the due d'OrKans was ^entering ^he eha?ea"u'"'"ST'"
friu'SLrSTcS-i- S^^^^^
.°h?oXUn:n\U^Ld^te„S. '^l-5f '™ "f"™
:™tesr'""^ ~-''-^" -"^ -- -
in 'oSwn S^rs'of the'S' V'/' 'l-'^f'^S 'o observe,
turned into a St Warrtn " ''"" P™''"'^'''' ^''"' '''= ^^
duke' ^arriTcle^'in^^ 1he'""°"i "'>?, ""<! heard of the
forward to meet hto. ^""'^ «""'='■>' """^ fastened
"Keep away, my dear duke!" cried d'Orlean, „, fk. .
si'e^hi^rp'' """' ^°" "°^ '^^ ''^' I haviThr;,4t^°o?
very^nfucTdiSed. ''^^ ^^"""^^^' ^"^ ^^ "P' looking
Ther'lM: ?o"'e atcfu's thin^ b'''"''"!. T ^^^ —
I verily believe I am The on "^ ^'"u^ '^'^ ^^°"' yo"> and
contradict them." "^^ ™^" ^'^^ ^'^^ '^^s dared to
The duke shook St. Simon by the hand very cordially
'^^^^^K^:^£Sef/2 r '^^.f^^ said,
rather im^ssible at Tu't by even InT ^'" ™^-e yourself
corner. What are the L liHi? ?^'"S ^^ ^"^ ^o""d a
to me ? " ^ '^'^ ^'"'^ "tatters people put down
«Tn! ,"l^y f peak freely, M. le due »
" Well then 'm I' T °'''^''°" ^°^ ceremony ? "
u ^^"'..^'^^"' ^^- le due, It is whisppred "
I api;r;ru.'' ^"^^ "''^l^^^^ ^ ^hey b^wled as I came along.
" Bawled what, M. le due ? "
24
37©
B Ikent Squire
** How the deuce should I know ? Something about my
having poisoned the Bourgognes and their two youngsters,
very Hkely. A propos^ how is the due d'Anjou ? "
" No worse, we hear. But what are you doing in this
place ? "
** I am going to pay my respects to the king, of course.
I may have poisoned his majesty, you see, for all I know. I
don't pretend to be wiser than other people."
M. de St. Simon looked very much alarmed.
"Permit me to urge, M. le due, that you must really be
careful. They talk here of nothing but the Bastille for you."
" Pardien ! that is lucky, for I came here, as it happens, on
purpose to ask for a lettre de cachet. It is pleasant to find
everybody of the same mind."
■" A lettre de cachet ? " echoed St. Simon.
" Why not ? "
" Think of the scandal ! "
** Pooh ! my dear duke, do you suppose I am going to let
these people talk, and do nothing more than talk? I wrll
compel them to do one of two things — either they shall make
themselves ridiculous, or they shall put me in the Bastille."
" The king will never consent to it."
" My dear duke, if I do not manage, within the next
half-hour, to get sent to the Bastille, I give you leave to call
me an imbecile. In the meantime, do me the favour to tell
all your friends who have run away that the coj.fii, is clear, and
that I am sorry to have inconvenienced them."
•' But really, M. le due "
" And let everybody know what I have come for. Adieu
for the present."
The duke nodded to St. Simon, and went on past the due
de Charost and his gentlemen of the guard into the king's
ante-room. Here the due de Tresmes, first gentleman of
the bedchamber, was in attendance.
" Good day, my dear M. de Tresmes," said the duke.
"How is his majesty this morning?"
"The indisposition is grave, M. le due," replied de Tresmes,
staring in astonishment at the unexpected visitor.
" Naturally," remarked the duke. " Will you be good
enough, monsieur, to ask if his majesty will do me the
honour to receive me?"
De Tresmes appeared aghast at this suggestion.
" I am afraid it is impossible, M. le due," he stammered.
" The king is really very ill, and receives no one."
)mething about my
eir two youngsters,
.'Anjou ? "
you doing in this
the king, of course.
;, for all I know. I
J."
ned.
you must really be
; Bastille for you."
re, as it happens, on
is pleasiant to find
; I am going to lei
than talk? I will
ther they shall make
; in the Bastille."
;e, within the next
ve you leave to call
e the favour to tell
le c<jMii is clear, and
im."
2 come for. Adieu
2nt on past the due
lard into the king's
, first gentleman of
;s," said the duke.
replied de Tresmes,
/isitor.
Will you be good
:y will do me the
jestion.
uc," he stammered.
s no one."
H •Rent Squire 371
" Quite right, my dear M. de Tresmes. But, you sec my
case IS different, and it is absolutely necessary I should see
his majesty."
De Tresmes had the fear of madame de Maintenon before
his eyes, and was at his wit's end. But finally he bethought
him of transferring the difficulty to someone else's shoulders
I will inquire from M. Bloin, M. le due, if you will be so
good as to wait," he said, moving towards the inner ante-
chamber, where the first valet of the king w„3 on duty
; ^y ^J" means," agreed the duke, following de Tresmes
before the latter could prevent him. "Ah! my good M
Bloin, you are the very man. I have come to pay his majesty
The first valet bowed profoundly to the duke, and cast a
side-glance at M. de Tresmes for instructions.
^•"^i!^j"^^l^'7 ¥^ Siven orders on no account to b^
collea ue' ^^ '''''^' '" '^^'^ ^° ^ "'^" ^'^^^ ^'^^
"So I understand, my dear M. Bloin. But probably he
will tell you, when you ask him, that he will make an exception
in my favour. ^
"A thousand pardons, M. le due, but really I dare not "
^^Ihe duke made a movement to the portiires of the inner
blandly. ^ ^'' ^""""""^^ "'y^'^^^' ^^^"' gentlemen ? » he asked
. "Good heavens, M. le due!" cried the two functionaries
simultaneously, " have a little consideration. Do you want to
;' Not at all. I only want one of you to announce me."
voice.'"^'''' ' ■' " ^'^^^^'"'ed the valet, in a quavering
aII^^^^ unreasonable you are, gentlemen," observed the
duke. However, I am the last man in the world to make
bfalitTed A^'^ ' ""'"^^^"' y°"' ^^"^^^--' I --not to
"I am sure M. le due will excuse us," oaid de Tresmes
beginning to reassure himself. tresmes.
The duke waved his hand graciously
to lTv^\ :Sr*r" ^^ ^^•^' "'^"' -« I n^"«t speak
to the king, I will ask you two gentlemen to sh„f th- ou^4
where rsSnd""!' ' '""T-I^^ ^"^'"^^^ '^ his"n;ajesty?rom
atd"^ [hfduke cUeTfut^' ' ^'^" "^^^^ ^ ^^^ °^-ow,"
11
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H Ikeut Squire
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De Tresmes and the valet clasped their hands in horror.
*• Monsieur cannot he serious ! " cried Bloin.
"Serious, parbleu ! Do you expect me to carry on a
conversation through a stone wall without making a noise?
How unreasonal)le you are — as I had the honour of remarking
before."
Bloin looked despairingly at M. de Tresmes. But the
latter was too stupefied at the duke's obstinacy to make any
sign of dissent, so the valet turned towards the king's door
with the air of a man mounting the scaffold.
" If M. le due insists " he said hesitatingly, with a look
of final appeal, as he stood with his fingers on the handle.
"Of course I do, my dear M. Bloin. But be easy — I will
explain to his majesty that I threatened to cut your throat
if you refused. One has to act up to one's reputation, you
know."
The valet looked unutterable reproaches at de Tresmes,
and muttered, as he turned the handle,
"This is really the end of the world."
He opened the door, and passed into the king's room.
As he did so, the duke, ignoring a pathetic exclamation from
de Tresmes, put his foot between the door and the doorpost.
'I'he unhappy valet, not daring to prevent this manoeuvre, said
in a trembling voice,
" Your majesty, M. le due d'Orleans requests an audience."
There was a moment's pause, and the king's voice replied,
in a curt tone,
" I cannot receive M. le due."
"I regret to hear that, your majesty," remarked the duke
blandly, through the doorway, " because my business is really
of pressing importance. If your majesty prefers me to say
what I have to say from this room, it is not I who have any
objection."
There was an amount of veiled significance in the duke's
remark which made de Tresmes and the valet look about
for a place to hide themselves. No reply came from the
king for a second or two, and then he called out, in a tone
full of suppressed annoyance,
"In that case, I am at your service, M. le due. Do me the
favour to enter."
The duke came in, and the valet retired, shutting the door
xjunmu luiis. i nC jviiij^, nuu luukcu vciy uaggurcl and de-
pressed, was half lying, half sitting in the bed, propped up
with pillows, but fully dressed, and the coverlet was strewn
r*— "ml
hands in horror.
Sloin.
me to carry on a
Lit making a noise?
lonour of remarking
Tresmes. But the
tinacy to make any
rds the king's door
i.
tatingly, with a look
on the handle.
But be easy — I will
to cut your throat
le's reputation, you
les at dc Tresmes,
lo the king's room,
ic exclamation from
r and the doorpost,
his manoeuvre, said
uests an audience."
dng's voice replied,
remarked the duke
ly business is really
f prefers me to say
ot I who have any
:ance in the duke's
e valet look about
jply came from the
tiled out, in a tone
t due. Do me the
1, shutting the door
y uaggard and de
5 bed, propped up
:overlet was strewn
\ ?*«*
I
a mcnt Squire 373
with papers. A slight swaying of the porii>res in a doorwav
opposite suggested that someone had just retired and left
his majesty alone. The duke came forward and bowed
profoundly, saying,
Jlu'^' deplorable events have happened since I last had
the honour of speaking to your majesty-events which, under
rntrudYnVhereT''^""''' '"""''^ ^'''''' "'^^'^ '"^ ''^'"'" ^^^"^
The king glared at his nephew, and replied slowly,
much T K ' »''"'■ ^""'"'^^ bereavements have shaken me
much. I have to reserve the little strength I still possess
for those matters which urgently concern my government I
will, therefore, ask you to be brief." vcrnmcnc. i
maiWv ' ""J. °"^ °^ ^^°'^ "'^'?''' ' ^^^'■'•^d to consult your
coSed.'' '^P''''' '•'"' '^'' ^^'^^ "''"^^ h^^^ been
" What crimes, M, le due ?"
Ja If fj.^'?' ''!l''^l^"' °^ monsieur and madame de Bourgogne
and of the due de Bretagne-perhaps also of the due d'AS/'
Assassinations!" ejaculated the king, in a husky vo°ce
That IS a terrible word, M. le due " ^
the' woT^Bur^fT- '^"'i '\'^^^ '' "^°'-^ t^^^'ble than
majerty—" '' °"'^ '^' ^^""^ ^^'^^ ^""^y^ your
;| Good God ! M. le due, what are you saying ? "
I am saying, sire, that if there is a question of assassina-
''oAilS'^"':' V^, y°" '^^° ^""^^ of assassinations."
Unly I, sire ?"
" What do you mean, monsieur?"
,, c f ' ^ ^^^ ^""^ serious matters "
« aZ J y°">". "^^Jesty can say one way or the other."
indig^'nTntlV' '""'"''' '^' '' '"^'" ^^^^^ '^^ l^'"g
^^ What criminal, monsieur ? "
"Myself, sire— 1 presume."
wi.?:J'a"elrn..''"«'" "P '" '^' ^-^ '~''^d « the duke
.1
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374
H Ikent Squire
" Are you out of your senses, monsieur ? " he asked.
"It is not for me to say, sire. But if your majesty does
not choose to be interested in discovering the assassin of three
members of our house, that does not prevent other people
being interested."
The king fell back upon his pillows, with his hands trembling.
The duke kept his eyes on the bed, and his ears on the door
behind him.
"M. le due," said the king, in a strangled voice, "I am
not equal to talking in enigmas. If you have anything to say,
be explicit."
" By all means, sire. I have come for a /effre de cachet ^
" For whom, monsieur ? "
" For myself, sire."
" For what reason, monsieur ? "
"It appears, sire, that I am the assassin we have been
talking about. That is, I presume, reason enough."
The duke heard the door behind him open and close.
" You the assassin, M. le due ? " stammered the king.
" So they say, sire."
" They say — who ? "
"A good many people, I hear, sire,
tenon and M. du Maine, for instance,
not become me to contradict them."
"M. le due," said the voice of the marquise behind him,
" that is an outrageous assertion."
"Ah ! good day, madame la marquise," said the duke,
bowing. " Which is outrageous, madame ? your assertion,
or my assertion of your assertion ? "
"Yoa have listened to mischief-makers, M. le due," said
the marquise, with a virtuous air.
" I accept your statement, madame. Certainly, you ought
to know."
" It is easy to be evasive, M. le due," said the marquise
angrily, and turning very red.
" You are an excellent judge, madame," replied the duke,
who thought he saw his way to a serviceable explosion. " But
all this does not bring me any nearer to my lettre de cachet.
Use your good offices, madame, with his majesty to get me
put in the Bastille and interrogated as a poisoner, on the
accusation of yourself and M. du Maine. Pardieu ! you may
be right aflei ail— who knows? It is difficult for the most
estimable person to escape from the influence of his surround-
ings, and of the examples set before him from infancy."
Madame de Main-
Of course, it would
hands trembling,
ears on the door
d voice, " I am
ise behind him,
[. le due," said
.inly, you ought
d the marquise
H Ikent Squire 375
"What on earth are you talking about, monsieur?" cried
the kmg unguardedly.
"Why, sire, is it not clear that M. de Bourgogne and
his son stood m the way of my daughter becoming queen of
France? and that the due d'Anjou, whom it appears I have
also poisoned, still stands in the way ? Surely, when it is a
question of getting rid of inconvenient people, it would not
houseT"™^ *° ^'^^^^' scruples than the heads of my
" I asked you to be explicit, M. le due," said the king, in a
tone of extreme irritation. ^
.hi! ^5";/°' 'T^''''^' ''P' ^^^^' "^^^^"^e la marquise had
abjured the reformed religion in order to marry the late
tlltlZ. K ?^f '°?' ""^l^^ "°^ ^"^^^ "^tural that she should
arrange to butcher forty thousand of your majesty's Cevennois
subjecs, because they had the bad taste to refuse to follow her
example ? " v^"w>w uci
"Sire," cried the marquise malignantly, "it is unhannilv
nothing new for M. d'Orldans to be impious " ""^^^P'^J^
';0r again, sire," proceeded the duke, "when her late
majesty the queen, mademoiselle de Fontanges, and various
other people were very much in the way%f madame la
marquise de Montespan, was it not a question if a good
"raig'ht?"'"" """' '""^ ^^'^^^^^^^ ^° put masters
"This is intolerable, M. le due!" cried the king turning
pale at the reminiscence, and trembling all over ^' ^
to clisTo^? L'sir" Sanl^f Td ^X T^' H
Sy"n^^"of rZ^-^-^' - ^^ -" h^: Z i^o^
puJpi: with Vry!''' '^^' '° ^^^ ^^"^'^ ^-^' -d he became
" f ""s'^?; ^Mn.?'"7'" t"^^ ' ^^^^ d« yo" want ? "
AT i' ?/• V°^hing! It IS madame la marquise and
a^la Grfvrand'? T ^ ^° ^^T "^^ --^rtably d?sposed of
at la Gr^ve and I have come here only to oblige them Let
ainhmgs be done decently and in order-as madame would
marq^re. ^^''P^'"''* monsieur!" cried the exasperated
md;|$!5o^s^SmruS5>' i::rji\tr
Bastille, sire, and then madame la mrruise'a'nd my' It
11
Hi
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376
a Ikent Squire
!»|
du Maine can prove to your majesty's satisfaction— whatever
your majesty chooses to hafe proved."
"Retire to your house, M. le due," said the king, hoarse
with passion.
" At once, sire. And my /et^re de cachet ? "
" It shall follow you immediately."
"Your majesty lays me under infinite obligations. Adieu,
sire — adieu, madame."
The duke bowed, and disappeared before either the king
or the marquise could get the last word. He found St. Simon
waiting in the gallery, with a face full of anxiety.
" I hope I have not been over the half-hour, my dear
friend," he said.
" I have been on thorns, M. le due," replied St. Simon.
" What has happened ? "
" Just what I expected."
" Diable ! and as to the Bastille? "
" That is all right. I am on my way there now."
CHAPTER XLVI
HOW M. d'oRLEANS returned TO THE PALAIS-ROYAL
At the instant that the due d'Orle'ans was entering the king's
room after his argument with de Tresmes and Bloin, a letter
was placed in the hands of the comtesse de Valincour, who
was sitting in her own room leading out of the late duchesse de
Bourgogne's salon.
No arrangements had as yet been made for disposing of
the personnel of the households of the dauphin and dauphine,
and all the courtiers and others who had been on the Marly
establishment looked to the goodwill of madame de Maintenon
to find or make vacancies for them elsewhere. As the
Bourgogne entourage had always been rigorously independent
of that of the king, this state of things naturally went very
much to strengthen the hands of the marquise, and to sweep
away what little support might hitherto have been accorded
to the due d'Orldans at Marly. The result was made
sufficiently obvious by the iashion in which the duke had just
been received at the chateau.
The comtesse opened her letter, and read :
H Ikent Squire
377
action — whatever
the king, hoarse
ligations. Adieu,
; either the king
found St. Simon
ety.
ilf-hour, my dear
eplied St. Simon.
now.
)i
PALAIS-ROYAL
entering the king's
md Bloin, a letter
ie Valincour, who
le late duchesse de
e for disposing of
)hin and dauphine,
een on the Marly
ame de Maintenon
sewhere. As the
rously independent
aturally went very
uise, and to sweep
ave been accorded
result was made
I the duke had just
i
"Madame,
M. le due has just entered the chateau to demand a Mtre
de cachet for the purpose of compelling an investigation of
the rumours set afloat which connect him with certain recent
events. You, may, perhaps, have the opportunity of giving
publicity to this initiative of M. d'Orleans. I kiss your
hands.
G, Dubois."
"That is a good stroke of the abbd's," said the comtesse
to herself. She burnt the letter, and went into the salon,
which was full of members of the household and visitors
from Versailles. Casting a rapid glance around, she noticed
that madame de Maintenon was not present, and that the
due de St. Simon had just come in. She moved across the
room towards him, and addressed him in tones which reached
every ear in the room.
"Ah! M. le due," she said, "have you brought us the
latest news ? Tell us if it is true, as we hear, that M. d'Orldans
is perfectly furious?"
The duke felt rather uncomfortable at the sensation which
this inquiry seemed to excite in the salon, where M. d'Orldans'
arrival was already known.
" Really, madame la comtesse " he began.
"They are saying everywhere that M. d'Orldans insists
upon being arrested on account of certain horrible accusations
against him. Do you know anything about it ? "
"Madame, I may say that some rumours have undoubtedly
reached M. d'Orleans, and "
" Is he with the king now, M. le due ? "
" I believe so, madame."
" I suppose he will be asking for a lettre de cachet, then.
Do you suppose the king will grant him one ? "
" It IS impossible for me to say, madame."
By this time the comtesse's manoeuvre had met with all
the success she desired. Everyone in the salon understood
that the duke had come to carry the war into the enemy's
country and in five minutes the news was carried all over
Tlr^Sff- ^^- ^™°"' ^^° ^^^^ th^t his friendship for
M. d Orleans was putting him in the position of the blackest
mall^cfotsly, '^' ^ '""""^ '^^ '■°°'"' ^"^ remarked
of M"H'n.^"-' •" A ^''i^^r''^ n^ iG accede to the request
of iVI. d Orleans, and send him to the Bastille it is of course
possible that M. le due may make another request." '
m
I
378
a Ikent Squire
It ;
"What is that, my dear M. de St. Simon?" inquired the
comtesse, by way of keeping up the ball.
" It concerns the room here which was assigned for the
use of M. d'Orldans by M. de Bourgogne. M. le due has
always found it rather small, and I am sure he would
be very much obliged to any member of the household
who would be so good as to exchange a better one with
him."
The duke looked about him with the air of expecting a
rush of volunteers for the proposed transaction, and the
comtesse laughed outright.
" There is only one difficulty in the way of that, my dear
duke," <:he said, becoming aware that madame de Mainterion
had just entered the salon behind her.
"What is the difficulty, comtesse?" asked the marquise,
who had obviously overheard the duke's sally.
" Madame," replied the comtesse very distinctly, " we have
been told that there is an insufferable smell of brimstone in
the room of M. d'Orl^ans."
"True — I forgot that," murmured St. Simon, as he made
a precipitate retreat to return to the due d'Orleans. " Adieu,
madame la marquise — adieu, mesdames."
The marquise bowed to the duke, and looked suspiciously
at madame de Valincour, but did not see her way to an
effective retort. So she remarked in a sour tone,
" It appears, then, that there has been a discussion about
M. d'Orldans ? "
Nobody ventured to reply except the comtesse, who was
nearest her.
"Naturally, madame," she said. "Since the late terrible
events, it seems to be always M. d'Orldans that is in question.
I am sure I do not know why. Perhaps you can tell us,
madame."
" Madame la comtesse," returned the marquise, losing her
temper, "there is one thing I can tell you, and that is that
his majesty has decided to consign M. d'Orleans to the
Bastille."
The marquise, not knowing that this announcement had
been carefully discounted a few minutes before by madame
de Valincour, looked round for signs of surprise in her
audience.
'* The duke is very lucky, then, madame,'' replied the
comtesse.
" In what respect, madame ? "
?" inquired the
assigned for the
M. le due has
sure he would
■ the household
better one with
• of expecting a
laction, and the
Df that, my dear
le de Maintenon
id the marquise,
inctly, "we have
of brimstone in
ion, as he made
rleans. " Adieu,
)ked suspiciously
; her way to an
me,
discussion about
mtesse, who was
the late terrible
at is in question,
you can tell us,
•quise, losing her
and that is that
I'Orldans to the
inouncement had
jfore by madame
surprise in her
ne," replied the
■Mi
H 1kcnt Squire
379
" To have his request — or I suppose I should say his
demand — acceded to so promptly."
" His demand, madame ? "
" That is the common talk, madame. Is it possible you
are the last to hear of it ? ''
The marquise began to recognise that she was being set
at defiance, and swept a threatening glance over the listening
bystanders.
" There are some things, madame la comtesse," she went
on, "that are better heard of last than first."
"Why, madame?"
" Because those who hear first are apt to be accomplices."
The comtesse assumed an air of ingenuous surprise,
" But, madame," she said, "when you speak of accomplices,
you speak of crimes,"
" That is possible, madame la comtesse."
" The crimes of M, d'Orl^ans, madame ? "
" I did not say that,"
" No, madame — because you never say anything ridiculous,"
" Do you find assassination ridiculous, madame la
comtesse ? "
" If it is a question of M, d'Orleans assassinating anybody,
I find it very ridiculous. But it would seem, mad:\me, that
you imply that the recent fatalities came from the hand of
some assassin — by way of poison, perhaps ? "
"That remains to be ascertained, madame la comtesse."
" I see no difficulty about that, madame la marquise,"
" Explain yourself, madame la comtesse,"
"Well, madame, if there are poisoners to be discovered,
as you say, all that is necessary is to seek in the right place.
As it is perfectly impossible that M. d'Orldans could be
concerned in such a crime "
" You think that, comtesse ? "
" No, madame, I do not think — I know."
"Very good, comtesse. Perhaps also you do not think,
but know, where is the right place you spoke of,"
" Not altogether, madame. But I can guess,"
"Let us hear, then, where you would look for the criminal."
"As to that, madame, I may, of course, be wrong. But
I should begin by looking amongst those who accuse M.
d'Orleans,"
The comtesse accompanied this thrust with a curtsy,
in which madame de Maintenon recognised a direct throwing
down of the gauntlet, and the spectators a slap in the face.
B ' ilL^iii :
I ; '
! 5
II
380
a Ikent Squire
The marquise turned pale with amazement and anger, and foi
a moment or two remained speechless. Then she remarked,
with a poisonous glare at madame de Valincour,
" It appears, madame la comtesse, that M. d'Orl^ans knows
how to secure a champion. Whether the champion will
secure M. d'Orldans remains to be seen."
" Really, that is rather clever of the old woman," said the
comtesse to herself. She replied aloud, with a most engaging
smile,
" Madame, if it should ever be worth my while to secure
M. d'Orl^ans or any similar person, I will endeavour to make
sure of it by coming to you for lessons. Adieu, madame."
Before the marquise could reply, madame de Valincour
curtsied herself out of the room. Madame de Maintenon
looked vengefully round upon the silent bystanders, and then
retreated to her own apartment, leaving the courtiers to ex-
patiate in chorus upon the manner in which the comtesse
de Valincour had extinguished for ever her prospects of court
preferment.
Meanwhile, the due d'Orle'ans had set out on his return
to Paris. A mile from the barrier of the capital the front axle
of his carriage gave way, and brought the vehicle to a standstill
in the roadway. One or two persons passed who were unable
to render any assistance. Then a carriage, driven by a very
tall coachman, came in sight behind the duke's. This proved
to be M. de Torcy's. The marquis was also on his way to
Paris, and he at once volunteered to convey the duke home,
leaving the disabled vehicle to be brought on afterwards.
The duke promptly accepted the offer, and the minister's
carriage proceeded on its way to the Palais-Royal.
The crowding of the thoroughfares and the excitement
of the populace seemed to the marquis to be even greater
than on the preceding evening. Some of the streets were
quite blocked, and the detachments of M. d'Argenson's
mounted patrols had quite a difficulty in keeping a way for
the traffic.
In the neighbourhood of the Palais-Royal the attitude of
the mob was menacing and even formidable, and the
lieutenant-general of police bad posted a cordon of guards
round the approaches to the palace. Groans, yells, and
denunciations filled the air, and it was dangerous for any
member of the duke's household to be recognised out of
doors.
For two or three hours in the afternoon the name of
a Ikeiit Squire
'8i
roman," said the
a most engaging
a the name of
M. Humbert, the duke's chief chemical expert, had been
yelled through the streets with almost as much energy as
that of the duke himself. Every now and then some unlucky
passer-by was pointed out as the savant, and nearly murdered
in consequence. At last a multitudinous roar was heard in
the Rue St. Antoine, coming from the direction of the Bastille.
One of the duke's carriages was seen approaching with the
horses at full gallop, pursued by a howling mob of over a
thousand persons. The carriage was overtaken in the Rue
St Honore', close co the Palais-Royal, and the occupant had
just been dragged out of it when a squad of mounted guards
rode up, and forced their horses among the crowd. The
captive, who was really M. Humbert this time, was rescued
from his vengeful assailants covered with bruises and with
his clothes torn to rags. But before he was escorted by his
rescuers towards the gateway of the palace, he insisted upon
addressing his foes from the roof of the carriage, and having
climbed thereon, he endeavoured to make himself heard above
the uproar. It was some time before the spectacle of this
scarecrow, gesticulating wildly with his long arms, while the
fragments of his clothes streamed in the wind, produced an
astonished silence. When he found he was listened to, the
savant bawled out,
" Gentlemen, you have been good enough to accuse me of
all sorts of crimes, and to shout ' k la Bastille ' to me."
A noisy assent came from the crowd, and a forest of fists
were shaken at the speaker.
"Gentlemen," he proceeded, "let me tell you that when
you stopped my carriage I had just been to the Bastille to
demand to be imprisoned."
This statement produced a sudden hush, and everyone
listened for what was coming next.
"When I presented myself there," went on the savant,
" they positively refused to take me in. Thus I have returned.
I hope, gentlemen, that you are now satisfied, and I wish
you a good afternoon."
The idea of a man being refused admission at the Bastille
struck the hearers as being rather funny. With the proverbial
fickleness of a crowd, a roar of laughter spread in all direccions,
and the orator was saluted with a round of derisive cheers
as he descended from his rostrum to re-enter the carriage.
The guards escorted him as far as the cordon, and the carriage
disappeared within the courtyard of the Palais-Royal.
In the meantime, the duke himself had been rather less
382
H "Rent Squire
Ir Hi
m
li 1
fortunate. About a quarter of a mile from the palace M. de
Torcy's carriage had been stopped by a momentary rush of
the crowd in front of the horses. One of the bystanders
thrust his head in at the carriage-window, and recognised the
duke by the light of a torch near the opposite window. He
announced his discovery with a triumphant yell, and a general
rush was made for the vehicle. The big coachman whipped
up his horses, but before they had gone ten yards their
heads were seized, and the coachman was dragged from his
seat.
The horses, which were already almost unmanageable with
the crowd and the uproar, took this opportunity of swerving
suddenly towards the side-walk, and overturned the carriage
upon two or three shrieking unfortunates who had not time
to get out of the way. In a moment the vehicle was covered
with rioters, and the door which came uppermost was wrenched
open. Then half of the duke's body shot up like a jack-in-
the-box, and his sword-arm was seen spitting his assailants
in all directions. The coachmpn got among the wheels, and
slashed at the crowd with his whip un^^il it broke in pieces.
But this defence only lasted a minute. The coachman was
felled to the ground, and the duke's sword broke against the
body of one of his opponents. In an instant he was seized,
hoisted out of the carriage-window, and flung on the ground
between the vehicle and the house-wall.
Just at this moment the nearest street-door, which belonged
to a respectable lodging-house, opened suddenly. A tall man
appeared upon the threshold, with a pistol in each hand, and
with what looked like the leg of a table tucked under his left
arm. Before the group of men who were flinging themselves
upon the duke's body could realise what was occurring, two
of their number were shot through the heart, and the wooden
weapon had descended upon the heads of four others, with
a sound as of someone sitting down upon a bandbox. The
tall man shouted to some person behind him to drag the duke
within doors, and sprang upon the overturned coach with a
sweep of his club which sent half a dozen squealing ruffians
in a heap into the street beyond. Then he jumped down,
got the coachman on his feet, and hurried him into the house
before the crowd could rally to the attack, or get near enough
to prevent the escape of either rescued or rescuer.
A roar of disappointment followed the slamming and barri-
cading of the door. A rush was made to break in the panels,
and a volley of stones demolished the fanlight. A couple
'. I
the palace M. de
Dmentary rush of
)f the bystanders
id recognised the
;ite window. He
sU, and a general
)achman whipped
ten yards their
dragged from his
imanageable with
inity of swerving
ned the carriage
ho had not time
icle was covered
ost was wrenched
ip like a jack-in-
ing his assailants
the wheels, and
broke in pieces,
e coachman was
broke against the
it he was seized,
5 on the ground
, which belonged
nly. A tall man
1 each hand, and
ed under his left
iging themselves
s occurring, two
, and the wooden
^our others, with
. bandbox. The
to drag the duke
ed coach with a
quealing ruffians
e jumped down,
a into the house
get near enough
uer.
« .^■
'Sprang upon the overturned coach.'
-/'a'jc -m.
r
I*
1 1 '
1
11
!," !'J
I* i
!
a IRcnt Squire
383
of i;:inutes afterwards an arm appeared through the opening,
a pistol was fired, and two of the crowd fell under the feet
of their companions.
A fresh howl of fury followed this disaster. Then the nole
of the carriage was seized, brought to the door, and used
as a battering-ram. Three or four blows sufficed to drive in
the two upper panels, but a mass of furniture, which had
been rapidly piled behind the door, resiste( fo. the moment
the most vigorous efforts of the besiegers Suddenly a
murderous hail of brickbats, delivered from the parapet of
the roof three stories above, came down upon the surging
crowd round the door. Every moment a victim fell, and in
his fall he brought down two or three others. The tall man,
leaning over the parapet just over the doorway, could be
seen hurling down his deadly missiles as fast as he could
tear them from the chimney-stack beside him. Nothing
could stand against this discharge, and the mob fled yelling
until they were beyond the marksman's range, leaving the
ground strewn with maimed and disabled victims.
At this juncture a company of mounted guards appeared
at the upper end of the street, and advanced at a gallop.
The mob did not wait to be charged, but melted away in
the darkness, and the troopers drew rein around the carriage.
Here their attention was attracted by a plaintive appeal for
help, which was found tr proceed from M. de Torcy. Thanks
to his having tried to open the door of the carriage at the
moment it was overturned, he had been caught by the coat-
sleeve of his left arm between the vehicle and the curb-stone.
He was a good deal bruised by the sudden upset, and his con
dition had not been improved by the duke inadvertently standing
upon him while combating his assailants through the opposite
window. However, when he had been extricated, and the
carriage had been righted by the united efforts of the troopers,
he expressed his conviction that no bones were broken, and
took his seat to await the appearance of the duke, of whose
more serious experiences he was not aware.
The tall man had left the roof as soon as the mob took
to flight, and had descended to the hall. Here he found
the master of the house and his wife attending to the due
d'Orldans. The latter, plastered with mud from head to foot,
was ^sitting ^ in a chair and ruefully contemplating his coat,
which had been torn right up the back, and was being held
up in two pieces by the coachman. The latter was in very
little better plight, as his own coat and waistcoat were hanging
384
H mcnt SciiUrc
ik ' ^
ill I !l
i j
iW.
m^nbbons. and his head was bleeding from the blow of
dowmMtt'^-'rh^^ duke was saying, as the tall man came
downstairs These people have certainly parted my carmen s
amongst them. I think, madame. I will ask you to ^be good
enough o put a couple of stitches across the backVthat
telfn7;'h''''V"^^'^^'" ^,^'" J«'" my companion As you
as wd, t nw own lT?u' ' "'", '''''^' '° ' ^^^'^ ^is thanks"
Irn v A 1 ^ "' i^ ^^^ gentleman who so opporlunelJ
cracked the crowns of that c.rm///e on the doorstip^ ^
Ihis IS he, monsieur," said the host, pointing to the tall
man. The latter came forward, and remarked. "« '° ''^^ ^""
adventre." '"^ '"^ "'°"''''"' '' '° ^'"'^ '^^ ^^'°"^ ^^^ his
"Thanks to you, monsieur. I should have been a dead
man by this time but for your very d pr.J>os sally. May I ask
to whom I am indebted for so signal a service ? '' ^
Monsieur it is of no consequence. I am glad I was in
time to be of use. But you cannot go out in £se rijl h
.s bitterly cold, even in a carriage. I think I cm finfvn
a coat^ monsieur, if you will do^me the honour to Sse ,'"
Without waiting for a reply, the tall man went "nto the
te'SStherke'^^-^^^ '''' ^ ''^'^ overcoat,\vrh t
"What .s big enough for me will probably be bis enough
o/aS "™'""'' he said, "and .hi is a 'good »^n" sort
':t£ wf rparir""" "^ ^'"'-^' ^°"'>"'*' »~ -^
he'la^d""a°ndf';gir "'"' .''^'"'■'ned at once, monsieur,"
ne said, and I thank you again for your timely help I onlv
.nThe°street "l^'TW^"'- "^-ntiments o?^ur f ient
"notht bhhS°du"'dti"s^'™''''' ''^'- ' ^"^ -'-"'"
boiving" "'^ ™"""''' ™°™''fe™"'-." --eplied the tall man,
quicU^**"' "'''' """ """• "■™=i^'"-f" -"sked the duke
an^e^tilh teT:?.r';^„f,"..E"S'*™"'^ ™"!. "f -^f -t-
The duke walked out with a very thoughtful air, and found
a Ikent Squire
385
om the blow of
le worse for his
M. de Torcy seated in the carriage and rubbing h's contusions
m a lugubrious manner. M. d'Orldans inspected his fellow-
sufferer for a moment, and then got into the carriage.
'' Peste! my dear marquis," said he, "it is quite evident
from your appearance that if you are not the rose, you have
been near the rose. I heartily deplore the results of your
courtesy in offering me a lift, I assure you."
"There is no great mischief done," replied the marquis
dismally. " That is lucky, for your footsteps are not exactly
those of a fairy, M. le due."
" Heavens ! my dear marquis, was it you I was standing on ?
I thought It was one of the cushions. Why did you not say
something ? " '
" Really, M. le due, I found it quite impossible to be eloquent
and serve as a pedestal at the same time."
"It is shocking, and I shall never forgive myself. I was
so busy that I am afraid I jumped about a little."
" A little ! " groaned the marquis. " However, M. le due
It might have been worse for both of us. How did you fare
after you were lifted off my unfortunate carcase ? "
"I can tell you that as we go along, my dear marquis," said
the duke. Then, turning to the guards, he added,
Gentlemen, if your duty does not call you ^'sewhere. will
you kindly escort M. de Torcy and myself to the ais-Royal ? "
\Ve were only awaiting your orders, M. 1. jut," replied
the officer in command. " But here comes M. d'Argenson "
At this moment a horsemnn galloped up to the group, and
checked his horse at the amagc-door. It was the lieutenant-
general of police.
"M. le due," he said hastily, "it is only a moment ago I
heard of this outrage." °
"We are quits for some mud and bruises, my dear
dArgenson," said the duke. "Let us be off. If you can
doir ^o"P '° '^""'^ ^^""^ ^'*^ "^e, please oblige me by
"With pleasure, if I see things are looking quieter." replied
the leutenant-general of police, giving the guards the signal
Ro af ^ carnage drove away tovvards the Palais-
The inobs near the palace had, in the meantime, been dis-
persed by the patrols, and the streets had regained their
't'LT^' 4"i«uae. At liie entrance M. d'Argenson "dismounted,
and the two others got out of the carriage.
" Let your coachman come inside, marquis," said the duke.
25
li" '>
i< h
m u
.litt .. 1.-
386
H Ikeut Squire
"He behaved like a paladin, and we must make him as
comfortable as we can."
"Get down, Anatole," said the marquis, as some grooms
ran forward to take charge of the equipage. The coach-
man got off his box, and came down with his rags fluttermg
in the wind. .
"Your man is about as well dressed as myself, marquis,
observed the duke. " He is such a Goliath that I doubt if
we can find him a coat he can squeeze into, unless it is this
one I am wearing. It is a mile too big for me, and he had
better try it."
The duke was assisted off with his borrowed overcoat,
and the garment was handed to the coachman, who was
trembling with cold. He was just slipping his arm into the
sleeve, when he suddenly stopped, stared at the coat, and
then approached de Torcy.
" A thousand pardons, M. le marquis," he whispered, " but
this is my own coat."
" What do you mean, Anatole ? " asked the marquis.
" It is my own coat — or rather, it is the coat M. le marquis
did me the honour to buy of me a couple of months ago or
more."
" Impossible ! " cried the marquis.
" With all respect to M. le marquis, it is certainly that one.
I know it by half a dozen things."
" What is all that ? " asked the duke.
" Nothing— nothing," said the marquis hastily. "We are
detaining you, M. le due — let us go in."
" Come, then, gentlemen," said the duke, signing to the
grooms to attend to the coachman, and leading the way to his
private rooms.
In the corridor the party were met by the marquis de
Simiane, the duke's first gentleman of the bedchamber and
confidential secretary.
" M. le due," said this gentleman, " a courier has just
arrived from Marly with a letter from his majesty. M. do
Canillac, a'.o, is waiting to see you in your cabinet."
The marquis de Canillac was an old friend both of the duke
and of his mother, the princess Palatine, and was, in conse-
quence, looked severely askance upon at Versailles. The duke
.. — _4. ^^ ..rjfV. l-n'c? o/-\fpr«ininno into hie rnliinpt whpra thev
found M. de Canillac. The latter was amazed at the spectacle
presented by the duke, and in a lesser degree by M. de Torcy,
and expressed a good deal of alarm when he learned the cause
^'%
must make him as
IS, as some grooms
lipage. The coach-
th his rags fluttering
as myself, marquis,"
liath that I doubt if
into, unless it is this
; for me, and he had
borrowed overcoat,
coachman, who v;as
ing his arm into the
sd at the coat, and
• he whispered, " but
1 the marquis.
e coat M. le marquis
pie of months ago or
is certainly that one.
s hastily. "We are
duke, signing to the
eading the way to his
: by the marquis dc
the bedchamber and
" a courier has just
his majesty. M. de
ur cabinet."
lend both of the duke
e, and was, in conse-
Versailles. The duke
I cabinet where they
mazed at the spectacle
egree by M. de Torcy,
1 he learned the cause
a Tkent Squire 387
?hi!^\' ^"^ ^""^^^^ '^^^^'" <^0"btfully at de Torcy (who was at
this ,me quite mistakenly supposed to be rather of the
Mamtenon party), and remarked;
^ This IS a dangerous state of things, M. le due "
" Hp wm "'kF^''""^ ^°J; ^^' "^^ '^^^'■^y'" ^^P'i'^d the duke, laughing
He wil be accused of holding a candle to the devil 3
getting his fingers burnt for his pains But, on the whole k
prume^Tha7ata;r '' TY '^^ ^°"^^ ^^ '^ --
hese centleS nf tf ''"'^'' ^^ '\'"'' ^'"^"^ '^^ attentions of
- T If, .rH Ak . ^^ pavement when I am in the Bastille "
" It s ?i" reoor tthn. "• "^ ""^, ^'''''' ''" ^'^ ^e CanHlac.
ther "is no truth in it.' ""''' "' ''"• ' ^^P^' ^^- '' d^^' that
"In what ? •' asked the duke.
I'That you have asked for a /eUre de cachet."
has tengr„t°ed.'"S:;eT,s'»" "^ ^•^""'^^' "•" ""' -^-'
"1 his IS nothing at all," he said.
What do you mean } "
"It is not signed."
" Nonsense ! "
"Look for yourself."
glanceraTM'de°c:;;reVa'^i'tr Th^f' '"' T »' ^
"MON CoLLilN,
vous aura ar^emise ?ous ave." "''°" "'^ qu'aussitot q„ 'elle
de la Bastile, pour y'res?er iuS,^'/ ' '''f'l ^" '"°" ^^^teau
T^L.^ \^r ' °" ^°"^'"' 6" sa sainte garde
EcRiT A Versailles !e g A/ars, 1712." ^
"That is curious," remarked the duke «' T fV,.-«i
m^eri. before we go any further, l\ld he. J il^^^f"^]^;
CAav-iiy liuw matters stand" "" ' '-^-Huw
int":ie"J";vrthe'k?» ZTJ' "'^ ^'1' 'o Marly and his
de Canillae said ,,ro5i;,"'' "' '°°" ^' ''' ^ad finished, M.
'! i
l< f
388
B "Rent Squire
"M. le due, whether you ask my opinion or not, I say
you ought to ignore this document entirely. You have done
everything in your power to secure a full inquiry, and the
whole world knows it — or will know it by to-morrow morning.
If people choose to send you pieces of waste paper, it is
their affair and not yours. When they are ready to put you
in the Bastille, let them set about it properly. Till they do,
I recommend you to leave things alone. What do you say,
gentlemen ? "
" I am absolutely of your opinion," said d'Argenson ; " and,
speaking for myself, I should refuse to take M. le due to the
Bastille, either with or without this piece of paper, which
de Bernaville would only laugh at."
"You and de Canillac and I are old friends, my dear
d'Argenson," replied the duke, " and, therefore, I am bound to
assume that you are a little prejudiced. I have not the
honour of being on quite such intimate terms with M. de
Torcy, and I shall esteem it a favour if he cares to express
an opinion."
"M. le due," returned the marquis, "I say what M. de
Canillac says, and with all the emphasis at my disposal. These
calumnies must be met out of doors, not behind the walls
of a prison. Moreover, M. le due, you owe something to
your family and the nation, as well as to yourself."
The duke ruminated for a few moments, and said finally,
"Gentlemen, I confess that these attacks have hit me
very hard, all the more because I had a deep attachment to
M. de Bourgogne and his wife and child. Thus my impulse
was, and is still, to endeavour to force the hands of my
slanderers. But I am not such a fool as to disregard the
judgment of three men of honour and experience, all speaking
from different points of view, who tell me I am wrong. I
will defer to your advice, gentlemen, and let matters stand—
at all events, for the present. And now to supper, as soon
as we are fit to be seen."
The marquis de Simiane withdrew to give the duke's orders,
while the others went into the dressing-room. The duke
went on to de Torcy,
•' Do you know, marquis, that that Englishman addressed
me as ' monseigneur ' when he learnt who I was ? "
" A very natural mistake," replied the marquis.
"That is not the point, marquis. It reminded me all at
once of something that happened several years ago."
" What was that ? " asked d'Argenson.
ill
)inion or not, I say
ly. You have done
"uU inquiry, and the
to-morrow morning,
if waste paper, it is
re ready to put you
perly. Till they do,
What do you say,
I d'Argenson ; " and,
tke M. le due to the
ce of paper, which
Id friends, my dear
sfore, I am bound to
I. I have not the
terms with M. de
he cares to express
' I say what M. de
my disposal. These
)t behind the walls
owe something to
yourself."
, and said finally,
tacks have hit me
deep attachment to
Thus my impulse
the hands of my
IS to disregard the
irience, all speaking
:ie I am wrong. I
let matters stand —
to supper, as soon
e the duke's orders,
;-room. The duke
jlishman addressed
'. was ? "
rquis.
eminded me all at
lars ago."
i'3
a Tkcnt Squire 389
" I am not going to tell you— just yet. But I sav to all of
you that whereas the circumstance in Vstion onlyUneaed
^ me cunous and unaccountable at the time, U now Ses
me as most remarkab e. I give vou mv wnrH fLl- -^ v
becomes marvellous, as it ma^doTwiZeT you aU /boutT
"Wait, and you may see," reolied the dulip "T„ .k.
meantime, there is one thing i sho^uld certainty |fke to knot
M^l t1^^ """' "' "^ P'^^^^'" '" <»"■ recent adventure"'
" That is it ! " he ejaculated.
"What? "asked the duke.
reasons for keeping his incogSko" ^°°^ '""^ ^"^^^^"^^^^
" Certamly," replied the duke
;; The same with you, M. d'Argenson ? "
^a/'^.^Wj,^" replied the lieutenant-general of police
.1 ^^e equally discreet," added de CanUlac. ^ ^•
Dorn..,tou;''"' ^^ '' ^"'' '' '' ^ ^^"^^^ M. Randolph
whom^"''" ^'''''""'^ ^'^^g^--". "why, the man
and gave it to you. as I daresay fourZCl-^'' °' ' "^^'
"M le duc-'renH.^H'^S^^J"^ °^"" '^'''" ^^'^ '^^ ^^^e.
-^orcv'to J vnn ff f^ d'Argenson, -you must get M. de
CHAPTER XLVII
THE ABb6 GAULTIER IS THE RECIPIENT OF A LITTLE
CONFIDENCE
Jubf is t'^; ctrnWrfn'Tfr ',° *<= --
turning the overcoat ^o^^^gorrl^t*! 'nd ^o'^nt^rhr.
r; :
"r:|
!
\
1
i 5
It <
!
II ' il
• ^ *
i liij
390
a meat Squire
that individual came to run the risk of showing himself in
Paris. But the landlord of the lodging-house met him with
the intelligence that the Englishman, as he was called for
want of a more definite appellation, had paid his reckoning
and departed at dawn for some unknown destination, without
leaving any message behind him.
M. ]e To'-cy was a good deal vexed at missing the duke's
preserver, and asked several questions, in the hope of getting
a clue to his whereabouts. But the host could tell nothing
beyond the fact that his lodger, whose stay in the capital
had only lasted a couple of days, had spoken of leaving France
forthwith.
" Really," said the marquis to himself, as he drove away to
Versailles, " these Englishmen seem to come off very badly
when they do us a service. Here is M. Dorrington saving
the life of a prince of the blood, and the only thanks he gets
is to be robbed of his overcoat. On his previous visit he
does his best to save us from an invasion, and we clap him
in the Bastille for seventeen years. M. Gwynett brings us the
ransom of the monarchy, and we give him a ship, which
somebody sends to the bottom of the sea. Next he helps us
to convey part of cur treasure to Paris, and just misses being
burnt alive. Then he takes a letter to England for us, and
gets hung. And every time these gentlemen have put them-
selves out of the way, merely to be obliging. No wonder the
rest of the world prefers to do nothing for nothing."
A couple of days afterwards, as the marquis had just
finished breakfast, he was told that the abbd Gaultier was
waiting to see him.
" Something is wrong, that is certain," he muttered discon-
tentedly, as he went to his cabinet. "Tnis fellow is too
comfortable in London to come over for a trifle. It is the
renunciation, without doubt."
The marquis proved to be correct. The death of the ' petit
dauphin,' and the illness of the due d'Anjou (whose life had
never been considered to be worth a week's purchase since
he had been born), had produced the greatest consternation
amongst the English ministers, and the abbe had been de-
spatched in hot haste to give M. de Torcy a private warning of
the intention of the government. This was to make a formal
demand for the immediate renunciation by king Philippe of
Spam, for himself and his posterity, of his rights of succession
to the throne of France, as an indispensable condition of any
further negotiations for peace. The abba's informal visit was
a Ikent Squire 39,
to enable the French king and his ministers to anticipate this
demand by putting at once the requisite pressure on the king
of Spam, and thus save time in the more formal routine of
diplomacy. 'wuuuc ui
The marquis, who knew Louis XIV. better than most
people, saw at once the necessity of a little hedging, and
'^»1v'?^?.'uT¥"r ^^"''•^'' h'-id explained his errand, ^
M. labbtS I will not fail to lay lord Oxford's views before
that'^Ji'tlf/"'- ^'-K l^''?'u'''' ^^"^^ ^"^^' I ^-^' point out
Snl ?hL n P;"'°" .^°'^ °^ ^' ^^J^^^y ^"d of the king of
bpain, this question of a renunciation presents grave difficulties
Our jurists are unanimously agreed that, whatever renuncia on
a royal heir may make of his own rights in his own person he
hr°' r k' ^t^^^P^^J^dice the rights of his posterky? w^lich
belong to them by descent and are inalienable."
year^prst'^'^o^S GalS'^ P""''"' ^'^ ^^"""-^'^ ^^^^
knJw'thTS yJv 'f '^.'^ '^'' P^'^'^'^y ^^"' ^"d he also
hrand'L^?arthef.'''- '^^^ '^^ ^^^^^'^^ ^ ^^ - ^^ey suited
. "I presume," he replied, "that his majesty's act onlv
indicated his entire willingness that the two ™ns should no?
be worn by the same person. He cannot make any demand
upon a foreign monarch that would destroy the very basTs of
andrpl""""^"^^' "'"'^ '' ^^^^ ^^^^-'^^ inheScfpure
" It appears then, M. le marquis, that lord Oxford has been
sSfnV?''""''"''''' ' '"" ''""'' ' complet mirunde"
"Patience my dear M. Gaultier. It is not his most
Chris lan majesty, but his grandson, whose renunciit on k?n
question and that makes all the diWnS. ^am bound o
tell you that we are not in a position to do anything more than
make representations at the Escurial. If lord oK fh nt^
we can do what we like there, let him SdreVs Wmsd to
madame des Ursins and he will find out his iStake "
be JLt vr^iSS^sa^^^^^^^ -^^^ - ^-^
there,_and as he is not to be in the Tow ro.,pfri^" -V -
why,^i,am afraid this renunciation willlJerath;" alumtin-g:
" Then I am to tell lord Oxford, on the part of his majesty,
r; h
I V
i' t
392
a Ikcnt Squire
■'i
■ !
1 !
1; ■■*
Ml i 1
i
i
' !
■"(
:
h;.
'^i
}•
1
that we shall get along faster if the duke is restored to his
command ? "
" Heavens ! my dear M. Gaultier, do not misunderstand me.
I only wish to prepare you for delays over which we can
exercise no control — that is, if lord Oxford finds this renunci-
ation a sine gtid non. The Cortes must consent, in order that
it should have even the semblance of validity — and even their
consent could hardly bind a descendant of king Philippe's."
"If the English ministry has the king of Spain's renunciation,
it will make very little account of the Cortes, M. le marquis.
As to the king's descendants, it will be time enough to talk
about them when they put in a claim. The point at present
is, that the events of any twenty-four hours may make
Philippe V. king of France."
" That is a deplorable fact, M. I'abbd."
" Why deplorable, M. le marquis ? "
" For the best of reasons, M. I'abbd. You, as a Frenchman,
can guess what would happen if France were attempted to
be governed from Madrid. On the other hand, we know
already, without guessing, what would happen if Spain were
attempted to be governed from Paris. If you doubt it, ask
madame la comtesse, your sister."
"I do not contradict you, M. le marquis. But all that
is your affair and not lord Oxford's. He has parliament to deal
with, and the public behind parliament. At present the
current is on the point of running towards the Whigs again.
Prince Eugene is enormously popular in London, and there
is no saying how things will turn out."
The marquis thought iie Fleur de Lys, and decided
that the abbd was probabl) a good deal nearer the truth than
he suspected.
" Rest assured, M. I'abb^," he replied, " that his majesty
will use every means at his disposal to carry out his declara-
tion to the English government. When may \.e expect to
hear officially from lord Oxford on this matter?"
" It will be impossible, M. le marquis, to delay the formal
representation longer than a week or ten days. I start for
London again to-day."
" The affair will be in your hands, M. I'abbd ? "
" I believe so, M. le marquis. After my next interview with
you I go straight from here to Utrecht. I may say that
the instructions I shall carry to the British plenipotentiaries
will depend upon the attitude of his majesty in this matter."
After a little further conversation the abbd rose to take
H IRent Squire
393
i is restored to his
his leave, mentioning that he wished to see his sister at
Marly before returning to London. The marquis bade him
a polite adieu, expressing a hope that their next meeting
might prove entirely satisfactory, and the abb^ went off.
" It is perfectly amazing," muttered the marquis to himself,
as soon as he was alone, "to think of this animal being
pitchforked into such aiffairs. He goes about now as if he
were d'Harcourt or Porto-Carero. And the mischief of it
is that he has got hold of quite the right end of the stick."
Meanwhile, the abb^, who was inwardly much concerned
at the new hitch in the peace negotiations, made his way
to Marly. The comtesse de Valincour was out driving with
her friend the duchesse de Noailles, who had called at the
chateau, and the abb^ heard a good deal of gossip about
recent events while he was waiting. He was equally dis-
appointed, alarmed, and irritated at what he heard, and he
entered his sister's room, when she returned, with a temper
the reverse of amiable. The comtesse gave him an affectionate
greeting, which he received very much after the fashion of
the proverbial bear with a sore head.
"You do not see:Ti quite well, dear Armand," said the
comtesse. " What is the matter ? are things not going well ? "
"Damnably," growled the abbd
" Tell me all about it," said the comtesse, with solicitude.
" I thought you were in a pretty good groove."
"The groove is not bad," replied the abbd. "But it is
empty. It is true lord Oxford treats me like a brother,
but it is what they call over there a younger brother. I
get a good deal of patting on the back, and plenty of stuffing
of the stomach. But nobody seems to think of my pocket.
Between ourselves, other people are finding the same thing
about lord Oxford— lady Masham amongst them. It would
have been better if I had attached myself to M. St. John.
I have a suspicion that he is the better horse to back of
the two."
" But you are well put forward. It ought to mean something
some time, if not now."
"Everything hangs on the peace, and the peace hangs
fire. These deaths have been the very deuce. Unless we
can get the king of Spain to renounce the French succession,
WP shall H^lvp <-Vio \TTnf .-Qc-i.j-n''/^ '-^ -5 i-'^V- T" - ■»
nowhere."
"I am sorry to hear that. Nevertheless, in another way,
these deaths you speak of may end in your advantage,"
394
a "Rent Sduire
iH'
Mi '
1
(
■ii
It
m m
If-H'
"/»«/f / my dear sister, it will be very strange if they do-
thanks to you, It appears." ^
" To me ? "
"ar/^j Judging from the cackle of the folks here, you
have been busy cuttmg your throat from ear to ear. You mav
perhaps claim the right to do that, if it amuses you. But,
unfortunately, I see no use in it for me-and I see a good
many disadvantages." ^
The comtesse settled herself in her chair and looked at her
Drother with a composed countenance.
" Ah ! " she remarked. " And what have you heard ? "
h.H.r f PP'^""'' ^^*d the abb^, " that, for want of something
better to do, you have made an enemy of la Scarron, who
IS everything and have tried to make a friend of the due
^rleans, who is a good deal worse than nothing."
^ Probably ,t looks a little like that," said the comtesse.
CO r^^i- ,"^u°'^ '? ^^"''" P'-oceeded the abb^, "and he
IT' i^r ^^'"'Lthat whatever sort of cloud the duke was unde?
while M. de Bourgogne and the dauphine were alive, he will
be simply in outer darkness now they are dead. If he is not,
It will not be the fault of madame de Maintenon and M. du
Maine, at all events." ^
" M. Dubois is right, without doubt."
"Sangdieu/ then what demon possessed you to hook
yourself on to the most useless person in France? The
Slier- '* " ^^""^ '' '' ""'"'"'^ impossible to undo the
;; How would you propose to undo it, my dear Armand ?»
ar.Jr.%^ '' T^l^^. ^Z '^' ^ '"PP°'^' ^^^ for me to ask the
good offices of M de Torcy and M. de Berwick to smooth
matters for you with la Scarron. For the next fortnight, at all
events, I sha 1 be a person who will be listened to. After tha
the deuce only knows what can be done "
The comtesse smiled a little at her brother, and replied.
^./^ !, ^Z .""^^'•^^'^^ the task of reinstating me in
madame de Maintenon's good graces, dear Armand, let us
go thoroughly into matters. It would be well for oir ideas
Te '".Jt- P" '-Vherefore, if you have any [rons in the
fire, and how they are heating. After that, I will say some-
thing on my own account." ^
The abb^ looked doubtfully at madame de Valincour He
T- '" ': u^'^'u-'^f '^'^■*'P^"S his own counsel about his own
affairs, and had hitherto said nothing whatever to his sister
or anyone else in regard to certain of his recent enterprises
trange if they do —
and looked at her
a IRent Squire 395
Moreover, two of them, the attempted robberies of the
treasure-waggon and of madame de Melfort's letter, had turned
out deplorable failures, and represented nothing but a minus
quantity.
.,^^^^^^^^^^^y I have nothing to report," he remarked finally.
Two or three iikely eggs have addled. There was an affair
of an English heiress, which promised well, but latterly it has
stood still."
" Who and what is this heiress ? " asked the comtesse.
"A certain mademoiselle Dorrington," replied the abb^
" There is an estate in Devonshire."
" Is she anything but an income ? Young or pretty ? "
This question rather embarrassed the abb^. His passion
for Muriel had been from the beginning a fairly disinterested
one, owmg almost everything to her beauty and character,
and little or nothing to her prospective wealth. It was, there-
fore, quite a creditable emotion, and he was consequently
somewhat ashamed of owning to it.
"She is not yet out of the legal minority, I believe," he
replied. " As to appearance, one must not be too particular
when a comfortable rent-roll is in question. The real trouble
has been that there was a ^ancS in the way— a man named
Gwynett.
This name represented nothing to the comtesse, its owner
having been introduced to her as the chevalier de Starhembere
So she asked, °'
" Why do you say, ' was in the way ' ? "
" Because he is not in the way now, I imagine."
"How is that?" ^
The abbe gave the required details, but omitted all refer-
ence to his connection with Gwynett's adventures in France.
His account of the scene at the 'Crown and Anchor' took
the fancy of the comtesse a little, and she remarked ap-
provingly, ^
" Really, that was very well managed, my dear Armand."
Ihen she added, with a shrug of the shoulders,
"As to the rest of the story, I have more than once pointed
?"1 .J°" ^ ^^ '^ y^" '"'''^ "P°" ^^'^'"g brandy, you must
take the consequences of the brandy."
fK " \i ^ ""a'^ '"''7°"' ^^*"g' "^y ^e^*" Yvonne," observed
the abbe, reflectively. " that sfnre tha^ ^.o^.,^^^ t ^ "
absolutely lost my relish for it."
" I wish I could expect that state of things to last," said
the comtesse, with a good deal of fervour.
,;J
f ;
*p|
396
a fkcnt Squire
bukS '"To'l^p't'l^ sentiment," observed the abb6 re-
Dukingly. lo seek to deprive others of enjoyments vou
'« Oh iTv " '" '^''' '' ^°"*^^^y ^° ^" systems of Ss."'
wa^^a^I^n^Pr- S-^^^^^^^^^^ -^ ?•- -P, chairs,
^^bVrfmars^obeTp" ^"^ '^ ^^ ^"^ think%^ormTy
tell'Jou^Sf/T'?''""^^^! "\' '^' "^y ^^^^ ^^°""e. I should
tell you that I lay under that window in a heavy rain for an
hour or so before I regained my senses. Then I v"oke ud
with a sort of ague about me, and I have never been the
spme x^an since. I have done my best to recover ny taste
for the bottle, but it is of no u e-so far, at all eve Jt^^ St 11
I have not given up hope yet " cvenis. atiu,
her^brothe";'^>h r""^'''"^ ^°' ^ ™°™^"*' ^"^ then looked at
her brother with a piercing intent ness of gaze.
Armand, she said suddenly, « I wish you to understand
that your utterly imbecile habit of drinking may nrove an
leTroS'tSt"?'' ^^ "V'" ;° «^y ^'^-^ l' ' i'the
least possible that, for the sake of great results to you, as well
confideT?"' '°" ''" "^^"^^^ ^^ ^^^°-^ - safJpei.on to
-^s'^you pu^t!''^ '"^^'''' '^"''''^'"S serious, my dear Yvonne
" Serious is not the word for it. For what I have in view
discretion is so vital that all the risks of your IgnorS
blundering into a line of action detrimental t^my plans a e
better worth running than the risks of your knowfng how to
help me— and then blabbing." «."uwing now to
;;it appears, then, that I may interfere with you unwittingly? "
yi am afraid you are certain to do so. I canno exnect
" wtt^fthat?'" " ^^^^^--whatl tell youTthisTe!^'
"To leave my affairs alone. Any influence you may wish
I mere ^LtTlr/L? 'n"^'^"^ ^' ^^-^-''^" ^-'- ^«
a mere waste of time. Do you suppose for a moment that
I should put myself in her black books without an obTec"? "
. I confess that did not occur to me," said the abbd « It
IS true, as you say, that being in the dark, I may easily spike
interVsTs-I s^Dokp' n"f /ncV"^ '^"^ ""^ *^^ mterests-immense
imeresis-— 1 spoke of just now, to engage not to ruin everv
thing by getting drunk again ? " ^^^^^
d then looked at
my dear Yvonne
your affair, it
a Ikent Squire
397
"At present, my dear Yvonne, I have not the slightest
objection — if it will be any satisfaction to you."
" My dear Armand, is there any possible oath or adjuration
that you would consider absolutely binding upon your con-
science — if you have a conscience ? "
The abbd looked vacantly at the ceiling for some seconds,
apparently searching in his memory or imagination for a
formula that would meet his sister's requirements. Not
being successful, he remarked, after a pause,
" Really, my dear Yvonne, I cannot say that such a thing
occurs to me at the moment. But I will do my best to meet
your wishes, if you will kindly state them."
** My wish — if you can make it possible — is to confide in
you, with the double object of preventing you spoiling my
game for want of knowing what it is, and of enabling you to
assist me when opportunity offers. In fact, I think you could
take a useful part, if I pointed it out to you."
" I shall be happy to consign myself to eternal perdition if
I violate your confidence," remarked the abb^ obligingly.
" I do not see that that will alter your prospects very much,"
said the comtesse. " I should prefer something quite different."
" For instance ? "
" I should like you to pardon me beforehand, in case I
found you were on the point of betraying me, and I had
consequently to put you out of the way "
" Sangdieu ! " ejaculated the abb^.
" Although, as you know, I am very fond of you, dear
Armand."
The abb(5 scratched his chin reflectively, and then observed,
'• But this is serious, my dear Yvonne."
" I have been saying so the last half-hour," replied the
comtesse. •* On the whole, I am satisfied with my suggestion,
if you are."
The a.hh6 considered the matter in its various aspects, and
finally decided that discretion was not an unreasonable price
to pay for information which began to appear desirable in a
high degree.
" It is a bargain," he said.
" You fully understand ? "
^^ Diabk! you make it plain enough, my dear Yvonne."
The comtesse came and knelt down by the abbd's side.
" Kiss me, brother," she said.
*• Certainly," assented the abb^. suiting the action to the
word. " But why ? "
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mt comiesse, rising and goinR back to her seat.
7n! nnnl^'"'"' "^ ''"^' '^"'^^'''' ''^* ^^is picce of forethought.
s.id ^T y°" ^""^^^'y '""^^ '» ^^"-"est, my sister!" he
lorl^'' TuTT ""^"^ u° '^ ^^^'^ ^"d t"^"^'d the key in the
me't^t'CS'^^",'/™'?^^ i^^ ^^'^^^' "^hat when we
'« Aw f f 'n ^°'' ^'°" ^ ^^^ ^^''■t^in ambitions?"
^^ C^r/^j, I recollect very well."
'" T 'Tnn^^^'r } ^'"'''^ '"'''^^ P'^g'^"'^ ^°^^^^s attaining them "
.nvl- ^ ^^"^^[^ y'^"' ""y ^^^' Yvonne. Am I to know
anything more about these said ambitions?"
Ihat is what I am about to explain to you."
I am all attention."
"G^d' rd thVrn's r-'^^^"^^ ^^^ ^^'^^ ^^^--"
wh^m^d^uyc" "^'^ ^'""^' °^ ^^^^ ^^^ '^--' - rule,
;; Have you chosen the ruler, whom you are going to rule ? "
There is no question of choice, becai'.se there fs onTv oL
person who fulfils the necessary conditions " ^ """^
"And that is ?"
" M. d'Orl^ans."
succJssfoV \uf h.' '"'''^- ^tJ'r^^' ^' ''^ "°t -^ry near the
^:'^'S^:^ :^:,\X ^^-^ o. . .onth ago.
'^YouS'f.r^K^'^ "/°^^ °"^ °^^^r «^tin dress.
The nhK i f ^r''? chance?" she asked placidly.
1 he abbd looked a little surprised
favour^" he' sS ''"' ' P-vidential interposition in your
r. "^i°"/T "°' ""^'y ^'''■^''^ '" alternatives, my good Armand "
remarked the comtesse. "Try again" "X feooa Armand,
*' Really, I am at a loss."
" Think, Armand, for a moment Tf f-h^ t;«,^ u j j- j
^^ M. de Bourgogne, of course."
"Yes— and M. dc Bourgogne is dead,
sons would have succeeded. Who would
regent during the little king's minority?"
Thus one of his
then have been
B Ikcut Squire
399
II The duchesse de Bourgogne, without doubt."
" Yes— and the duchesse de Bourgogne is dead. Who will
be regent now, if things take the usual cours • ? "
A "J''-^.^"'^ ^"".^"r- S"t everybody knows that madame
ae Maintenon will have something to say about that "
"Never mind that just now. If the due de Berri were
dead, who would then be entitled to the regency ? "
"M. d'Orleans, of course. But it happens that M. de
Berri is not ddd, and if there is one thing more likely than
another, it is that M. de Berri will be king instead of regent.
ima i^°»' "^'^ "^^^'" ^'''*' ^" '^'''^'' ^^^ ""'^"' ^ ^^°"'^
, '' '^^Tu 'f P,^''^^cfly true, so far as it goes. But does it seem
you that there is nothing hut chance in events which have
brought M. d'Orleans w=,;nn c ie life of the regency and
withm two lives of the r own ? ' '^h^^^y, and
in fht'' 'f^^^'i T ""'^ °' ' '■' ^'"^ •• '''^° ^^^"se M. d'Orldans
Ihe reverse.'' '"'P'^''' '"'"' ^"' ^ '''°"«^' '' ^^^ ^^^^^ly
the' Jl'n in^l^if ^""^ ^^^ ""^ "^""'^ ^° ^° ^'^^ '^"^'^ «leaths than
tne man in the moon.
"/Vx/./ that is a good deal to suy, and with such con-
fll aboutT""" "^"^'^^^ ^^"'^ ^'1^^^°^^ >°" '^"'^^
II Anyone but you probably would."
" But — do you know all about it?"
II I ought to know, certainly."
" You know who is concerned in the affair ? -
Yes."
II Someone who has had a hand in these deaths ? "
Exactly."
The abb^ raised his eyebrows.
''That is rather an awkward thin- to know » he said
Almost as awkward as making a mistake about it."
It is impossible to make a mistake "
" Why impossible ? "
" Ask yourself."
a iTtSe l^ari ^""^''^ '"'^'' "'"'"*' ""^ *^^" ^"ddenly gave
rathe^''pa1e^°'^ ' " ^' ^^^^^^^^^ed, from force of habit, turning
" j''^"> ^o you begin to understand?"
Ihe abb^ looked apprehensively at the door Then he
craned his neck forward, and asked in a whisper
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" It was you, Yvonne ? "
"I."
There was a dead silence. The abbd trembled a little
and brought out his handkerchief to wipe his forehead. The
comtesse contemplated him with a serene air. Finally he
remarked, in a subdued voice,
" This takes me a little by surprise, I confess. But why
the due de Bretagne ? If you want a long regency, he was
the tougher of the two."
"That was a most unlucky contretemps. It should have
been M. de Berri. But one cannot guard against everything "
" I should like to hear the details," said the abb6.
"It is quite simple," replied the comtesse. "You see
I got a few requisites at Madrid, intending them for the
queen, but never had the chance of using them. When we
were expelled from Spain, I decided at once on th** next
programme, and manoeuvred until I secured the appoint-
ment at Marly. There was no great difficulty about that,
as madame de Bourgogne was glad to have someone who
had lived with her sister. I always carried what was necessary
about with me, so as to be ready for an opportunity. You
heard of the dauphine's missing snuflF-box?"
"Of course,"
"That was my first real chance. I put a little snuff of
my own in the box, before handing it to madame la dauphine.
By good luck, it answered for monseigneur as well."
" But what about the disappearance of the box ? "
" That is easily explained. The dauphine, as you doubtless
heard, put it away in her cabinet, which no one was allowed
to enter. But at night she told madame de Levi to fetch it
for her, saying that I could point out which box it was
Naturally I took care to walk in first, and put it in my
pocket under the nose of madame de Levi, who is very
short-sighted. Afterwards I threw it into one of the ponds."
The abbd drew a deep breath.
" That was a near thing," he said.
'•Yes. It would have been awkward if the box had been
found, and afterwards tested. Luckily, four gentlemen of
the court had taken pinches from it just before it was placed
in my hands. That put them off the scent entirely."
" And the due de Bretagne ? "
" That was pure misadventure. M. de Berri was at Versaillps
the day of the '^auphine's death, and asked for some lemonade^
There was no one at hand to fetch it but myself, so I could
€ trembled a little,
his forehead. The
Finally he
ne air.
confess. But why
ng regency, he was
s. It should have
against everything."
the abb6.
itesse. "You see,
:ling them for the
; them. When we
once on th** next
;ured the appoint-
fficulty about that,
lave someone who
what was necessary
opportunity. You
?"
Jt a little snuff of
idame la dauphine.
r as well."
;box?"
;, as you doubtless
3 one was allowed
ie Levi to fetch it
ifhich box it was.
nd put it in my
.evi, who is very
e of the ponds."
:he box had been
Dur gentlemen of
fore it was placed
ntirely."
ri was at Versailles
>r some lemonade,
nyself, so I could
a itent Squire 401
fo'hL^"* T.'^'^PJ''" i^o 0^ something into it before giving it
to him. Then he fane ed it would create arM.tv J^a
changed his mind. Just as mytck was turned Velttle
&he%Tas: ^r.r%""'r'^"^ ^^ Ventadour t'd d
lum me glass, i was extremely sorry when I nohV*»H ,> k.,*
" Thf hh7 '°°^'' '"^P'd™' in hJd"„Sfered» "' """
remarked, " * "'"''" "'" ""' ""'^"'e. '"d then
"The misfortune is that if this rickety due d'Aniou survive,
the king, we may have his uncle from Madrid dropobsta for
the r^ency. even if the succession is waived." '^'^^ "
I ^rre^o^u^ttVd^^ jftht^ '- '^ ^-■- -^
ine comtesse put her hand in her nort*»f a«^ u.
a letter, which she handed to the abb/ ' '"^ "'"S''* °"'
The abbi read,"'^ '"^^''' something to you," she said.
" Madame,
G. Dubois."
a.nI|^^a^n7aCnilSft^„-^,r<^ « -'^ ^'— h
"BeSd,;,^mrdra"rv^7nr;^Tri':ni!;: ii y^i;
. nXel'^aX'y'^^peS ht^aPH ^f-
XTnf ■sVoTi"'''-*"' ^^- -Tou^w-at -
-id the clftesse'" ^ "' ''""''^'"b^" "«. n>y dear Armand,"
" For instance ? "
an' Orida"^! 'rin';r!:,-"„Z°P]>'-'- '« England the idea of
the duke is atTeaJt Tfrlend rCre't'EHM- '''/'P"" ^^^'
to the Stuarts All fhof«,i? u ^"^a'" and an enemy
well." ^" *^*^ ^'" be useful, if things go on
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't>
There
by the
begin
"Let us trust they will go on no worse than they have
begun," said the abbd piously.
"Trust as much as you like, so long as we provide for
things going on badly. It is there where you may be of real
service."
" Explain, my dear Yvonne."
" Well, many things may happen that would be mconvenient
to us. M. d'Orldans may manage to become imbecile, as
madame de Maintenon prophecies; or he may find himself
assassinated some fine morning by somebody who wants to
oblige M. du Maine; or, in spite of my arrangements,
M. de Berri may become regent or king."
" Is he impracticable 'or you ? "
" I fear so— even if his wife were out of the way.
are some men so weak that they cannot even be led
nose. At all events, I rely on nothing in that quarter."
" Then you are prepared to be checkmated ? "
"Not altogether. One can usually resign, and
another game."
"With whom?"
" The chevalier de St. George, of course."
The abb^ whistled softly.
" Surely that is a very green gooseberry, my dear Yvonne.
And even if it ripens, is it a big enough mouthful ? "
"I see no reason why it should not be made so. Someone
must step into queen Anne's shoes before long. No one over
there cares a brass button for the elector, I imagine. Whereas
I have the impression that I, as the right hand of the chevalier,
could make a little following for him."
" That is quite possible. But what is my rok in this ? "
" Evidently you must attach yourself to the chevalier's party
—secretly in England, openly here. You already know M.
de Berwick ? "
" A little. I went to him a year and a half ago wit^^ a
letter from lord Oxford— Mr. Harley, he was then. A pr fos,
there was one thing perhaps a little curious. Have you ever
seen the chevalier de St. George?"
" No."
" Nor I. But M. de Berwick remarked, when I had my
audience of him, that I was not altogether unlike the chevalier,
both in face and figure— a little stouter, perhaps. ^ Till now
I had forgotten the circumstance. I only saw M. de BcrvviCii
twice, and scarcely in a way to permit of claiming acquaint-
ance with him again."
B Tkent Squire
rse than they have
403
Thln.^ LtVL" IwiTe'a™ bu^"''' "S '^ '"' ""P-^"'-
must go to Chalons a^dSn toZke v™ Pf/""', ''°"- y°"
to the chevaher-M. de sf wict ?h,n ^•"''" '"^'Pensable
Thus you can do «W I I .J ^J"' >'°" =>» opening.
I canni. be both at Chalons and in P '°' "-^f fHus. yl
^,;'I„win develop aU 'Cl^^l^'-^tT!^^:^^
his''yes^'ca'l:^^irCn't"St*f [*" '^H ^■^"'" -''
" That will be easy."
;; I do not think of anything more.''
Th'e'rbb'.T k^^Hi^ ^^ --"
door. ^ ^^^' ^"^ ^he comtesse unlocked the
pu;;i|\™"h:xt^L°"4oxr' ^™»<''" ^-^ -^^i.
to ge?uinf;n,r:S: 't^r!^^^'^^^ ?" "■">--'■
you have made me TOrthv nf vl, ^I '^"'"'ding in me
raised me to a higlfeHe S-I fe'e?" T.^f- 1°" ''"'•''
to-be-forgotten interview a new man i° '""^J^'l "^ver-
'rrto'^r-ri;:-'£^^
The abb. .iss/d hifi^eT^^tX '^ „d^^^^^
CHAPTER XLVIII
THE ABBE ASSISTS AT A DOMESTIC TRAGEDY
aftenra'rritfin tidon 1 '^ JT' ^^ ^^^^^ ^^e day
that prince fiig^ne influen-T^ ''\', 'T'^^'^g intelligence
inertness of the WhU nnd n^i^'Y'^ ^^ ^'^^"^^ ^t the
the hands of the rn hLrv h^f i^ ^^ ^^^"^ °^ ^^Pulsion at
that morning. TheTettfn^' '"'l-^'P"'^'^ ^""^ the continen
himseinpnv! o„::_ Cl^'^ ^'^° mtimated that the writer wo.-m
Th«' oTTx "^"'" '"^ trance within the week " '""
m
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a "ftent Squire
After rather prolonged discussion, the promise of Louis XIV. 's
influence with the king of Spain was formally given, and the
abbd set out for Utrecht on April 4th.
Unfortunately, Philippe V. proved rather reluctant to concede
the required renunciation of his French rights, and on April
1 8th Louis XIV. wrote in most peremptory terms to insist upon
his settling the matter forthwith. Meanwhile, the negotiations
at Utrecht were brought to a standstill, and the Allies took the
field again, although the duke of Ormonde, who had succeeded
Marlborough in the command of the British contingent, was
hampered by secret instructions not to fight if he could possibly
help it. The abbd Gaultier again went to Versailles in the
course of May, and then crossed the Channel in order to
obtain fresh instructions in England.
Here he found some little change in the political situation.
The Whigs were quiet, and no further action had been taken
against the duke of Marlborough in connection with the
charges of malversation of public money. On the Tory side,
lord Oxford's star seemed somewhat on the decline, while that
of St. John was as obviously in the ascendant.
On July 7th the foreign secretary was raised to the peerage
under the *:itle of viscount Bolingbroke.
Not long after, it was decided, in spite of the queen's
preference for the duke of Hamilton, that the new peer should
proceed in person to France, in order to terminate, if possible,
the inordinate delay in the conclusion of peace.
This delay was inspired in no small degiee by the decisive
victory of mar^chal de Villars over prince Eugene at Denain,
on July 24th — a victory which went a good deal to console
the French for the loss of their great general the due de
Vendome, who had managed at last to gorge himself to death
the previous month.
It was now sufficiently obvious that the mi'>.ary success of
the Allies would not survive the withdrawal of the duke of
Marlborough, and as the king of Spain's renunciation had
by this time been intimated to the British government, the
latter had every reason for hastening the cessation of hostilities.
Accordingly lord Bolingbroke set out for Paris at the end of
August, and on his arrival accepted the hospitality of M. de
Torcy's widowed mother, the ma'quis3 de Croissy. The
viscount met with a most enthusiastic reception from the
Parisians and the Verbuillais, and his visits to the cpcfii were
made the occasion for regular ovations. A little later he
was received by Louis XIV. at Fontainebleau with marked
a Ikent Squire 405
^.Zu^a^l\^ .K° P^^^^e^lf difficulties presented themselves in
settling all the principal provisions of the intended treaty of
K; 'n. r"^'"^ the registration of king Philippe's renunciation
by the parliament of Pans, and Bolingbroke in due course re-
turned to London. Messrs. Matthew Prior and Gault°er. who
fett'nf lu ^'' '"^"^ '"'"^•"^^ behind to deal with mfnor
details of the negotiations. But the abb^, after two or Three
weeks' further stay in Paris, was recalled to London.
Travelling by way of Calais, he secured a passage to Deal
by a small English lugger which was returning after lanSni
some Jacobite partisans on their road to Baf-le-duc whe"e
the chevalier was now living. In the skipper and t'hrtwo
sailors, who formed the crew of the lugger, the abbd thouX
'Sr^w^rd'Arhor'' ^'^ ^^ "^^^ ^^ had seen a°tt
<^rown and Anchor and subsequently at the scene of
Gwynett's execution, although the difference between thei
present and former costume made him a little uncerTain But
as It was evident that the men themselves had no rSectfon
of him he ceased to concern himself about the matter S
settled himself down for the trip as comfortably as Te accom
modation of the lugger permitted. ^ °"'"
When off Deal the skipper transferred his two fellow -sailors
and certain trifles of smuggled goods to a schooner which lav
at anchor m the offing, and then, at the abbd's request rowed
Here th^ h "J^''''' °^ '^' ^^°^^ ^^^^^ ^ ^^^^ S thVtown
o^ the nlH ""^ '"" "? '° '^^ ^^^^^ a»d made fast to Te
of the old groyne-posts m the shingle. The skipper heloed
his passenger ashore, took his valisi, and followed him In f
httle roadside tavern about a couple of hundred yards iXnd
the™mo^^ P""^\°"' ^'^ purse.Td%etder;d
he:ifaTerbrtT^cepT'n^ ""'"'^' ^° '^^ ^"^P"-' '"^^ ^^'Pl-r
"Do^?ou thinwT'l''',"'^ ^°°^ ^^"°^?" asked Gaultier.
Do you think I look clever enough to be a coiner?"
"' If^ourToru*? o7en\rSf Sfi'^lfLf ^•
set that against the passagc-mon ™ L .„, '":.!.°' ™' "« '^■'
^<:tLZ^'^:^^'^^^^ ^^ "»° - no.
' Is your honour ready for the job
now?
^ lrf
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a Ikcnt Squire
"No ? 'TIC like the present. I can get writing materials in
the tav^> a here. Come inside."
The abb6 and the skipper entered the parlour of the tavern
and sat down. At the suggestion of the abb^, a glass of gin
was ordered for his compairion, writing materials were pr vdiiccd,
and the landlord was requested to keep the room undlsturijed
till their business was transacted. The abb^ mended his pen
secundum artem^ and asked his companior. for i-istructions.
The skipper bung his hat on the handle of the door, in
order to obstruct the eyes and ears of any curious tives-
dropper, came back gently, and whiyjured, in inysterious
tones,
" I want a sort of dying letter."
''Diable/" said the astonished abb^, ''wikat species of
epistle is that?"
" A kind ot message firom the grave," explained ine skifspt^r,
addressing *.r;>:;self sadly to his gin.
The abb^ sucken l-ie end cf his quill, and looked inquiringly
at his companion.
*' It appear^ theii," he said, " that we are to be pathetic ? "
♦* Whath thit ?• " asked the skipper.
" Pathetic ? Why, something that will arouse a sort of
tender melancholy in the person who receives the letter."
"Not at all," objected the skipper emphaticaliy, "We
jnust curdle her blood,"
"Ah! so it is a 'her'?"
" It is my wife."
" That simplifies matters," remarked the abb^. " Perhaps
you will give me a rough idea of what you wish said, and
then we can put the thing into shape. May I ask the lady's
rame?"
" Madam Matthew Kermode."
" Ah ! and you, then, are M. Matthew Kermode ? "
•' At your honour's service."
" And the address ? "
" The ' Crown and Anchor ' inn. Deal."
''Pardieu! I was right, then," reflected the abb^. Then
he went on, aloud,
" Shall I commence, * My adored wife ' ? "
" Lord bless your honour ! no — it's not that way at all."
" It very seldom is," said the abb^. " But the phrase is
popular. However, what will you have?
" Begin ' Dear Bridget,' your honour."
" Dear Bridget," wrote the abbd
a ment Squire
riting materials in
lour of the tavern
)h€, a glass of gin
als were pv 'di'ct'd,
room undifianDed
i6 mended his pen
ir instructions.
e of the door, in
ny curious tives-
id, in iiiysterious
■'wisat species of
lained the skipper,
looked inquiringly
to be i-'vthetic ? "
arouse a sort of
ives the ietter."
phaticaliy. " We
abb^, " Perhaps
3U wish said, and
ly I ask the lady's
;rmode ? "
the abb^. Then
lat way at all."
But the phrase is
A!
A- V^h^ ^^'^. '^'"''^^ y°"' ^ 5^^" be in the silent tomb."'
dictated Matt slowly. '
« Admirable 1" remarked the abbd approvingly. "Where
did you pick up that elegant sentence, my good friend ? "
It is on a gravestone at Deal -or something like it"
''fclf.^'"- J^^'''"^^ ?'' ^"^ I ^^'^ i^ i/mind." '
Well, go on, M. Kermode."
;; 'Driven there by your everlasting jaw.' " continued Matt.
» . T/ ^ '^ ^^ ^^^^ sympathetically,
the oceanUrs— '»°'P''^' '''' "P°" ^^"^ ^^^^^^°'^ ^y
"Really, that is very fine," remarked the abbd. "Does
M KeTmode?'^°"' ''"'^' ^'''^ "^ conversation, my dear
"I was never much of a talker," replied Matt. "But
Sr?' ""^ ' '°'- ^'"' '^^^^ ^^'"^'"g ^ J°t «ver th^
u po}ibtless that accounts for it. What follows ? »
Lrive me decent burial,' " dictated Matt.
Excuse me," objected the abbe, "but, if you will recollect
you are already in the silent tomb." recouect,
"That's so,'' assented Matt, in a tone of considerable
doTrpSV' "''"' '°""' ^^"^ '°"°"^ think'it m^t
The abb^ considered the point for a moment.
senJsIv''"Th?n it ''^T ^^ ^' ^ metaphor," said he
seriously. Then the rest will pass muster, I think."
air of reS "''"'" '' '^^''^^'^' ^ ''™'" °'''^'^^^ ^^"' ^"^ an
" What next ? " asked the abbd
h.'"^tu^7u'T^ f'y ""y ^^^ ^^^e' a"d Jf you don't want to
have a third husband's death on your conscience ' »
" Jn^1~^ delicate innuendo. Well, go on."
^^ Pick out a deaf man for your next miserable victim.'"
more?'' '' ^'"^^mg," commented the abbd. "Anything
Matt cogitated for a moment, and then d>Vt=>f*>ri
to haui^yo^'!!^??" '^ ''''' ^'^ ^'^'^ may noT7end me back
" Very ingeniously put," remarked the abbd
4o8
H fcent Squire
I.
is )
:j Hi
$1 I:
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" ' Cut if he does,' " proceeded Matt, " ' I shall know how
to do my duty.' "
"Pard/eu/ that will be sufficiently alarming, one would
think," said the abb^.
'•That's about all," said Matt; "except 'your much-
enduring husband that was,
Matthew Kermode.'"
" You will sign it ? " asked the abbd, tendering the pen.
" I guess my mark will have to do," replied Matt.
The a.hh6 completed the letter, and handed it over to Matt
to be decorated with a blodgy cross before the signature.
Then he folded and sealed the paper, and directed it to the
name and address already specified.
" What is the next step, my good friend ? " he asked, with
a certain amount of interest.
" I was going to ask your honour to be good enough to
find my hat and cloak on the beach, and this letter on
top of them, with a stone to keep the wind from blowing
it away."
" With great pleasure," said the abb^. " So the idea is that
you commit suicide by drowning ? "
" That's it," replied Matt.
"I am quite at your service. I will leave my valise here
with the landlord, and go back with you now, if you like.
Otherwise someone else may find your deposit."
" I shall be very much obliged. They don't know me here,
but it would be safer."
The abb^ paid for the drink, left his bag with the host,
and accompanied the skipper back to the boat on the beach,
which was out of sight of the tavern. Matt went to the locker
of the boat, brought out a dark heavy cloak, and rejoined
the abb6 on the shingle.
"I shall be rather sorry to part with it," he remarked,
tendering the cloak to the abb^. "It's a rare one for cold
nights, when it isn't wet enough for oilskins."
•'No doubt," assented the abb^, taking the garment;
" although it is scarcely the sort of thing one expects to find
with a sailor. It seems to me a military cloak."
" Like enough," replied Matt. " It was left at the ' Crown
and Anchor ' last winter by a stranger, and my wife made me
ta.-ce to it, to escort her to church in on Sundays and make
the neighbours envious."
The abh6 deposited the cloak on the beach and inquired.
I ? " he asked, with
So the idea is that
h and inquired,
a Ikent Squire 409
II What are you going to do with your boat, by the way ? "
"Get back to the schooner, your honour," replied Matt
looking rather surprised.
''Parbku/" said the abbe, "is that necessary? I should
have thought the water was deep enough here for your purpose
—especially if you put some stones in your pockets."
" Hang me if I understand your honour," replied Matt in
a puzzled tone. Then, as if a sudden light dawned upon him
he asked, *
" Does your honour think I'm such a bom fool as to drown
myself m reality ? "
The abbe's face fell, and he looked very much disappointed
My good friend," he remarked, in an injured tone, " yoii
certainly led me to expect it, and I came back here on
purpose to be a sympathetic spectator of your tragic fate
But, of course, it is for you to decide. Then this letter is all
humbug?"
"Of course it is, your honour. I hope that won't make
any difference?"
"I suppose not," replied the abbd regretfully. "It was a
slight misunderstanding, that was all. May I ask if this is
to be a little joke till to-morrow, or are you going to keep
"Good Lord! your honour," affirmed Matt, with extreme
earnestness, "if I don't escape for good this time, I'm a dead
man. 1 hope your honour will keep my secret ? "
" As to that, you may depend upon me. But am I to take
these things up to the tavern here, or do you want them left
presently."'"'''" Anchor'? I am going through Deal
"I didn't like to ask your honour to take so much trouble,
but if you could leave 'em at Deal "
cZ^l\ 1"^^^ ^^^^'" '^'^ *^^ ^^^^' beginning to think he
could extract some amusement from the widow's reception of
the news of her bereavement.
and goodtck?' ' ^°"°"' "''^ "'"'^' ""^ ^'^^ y°" good day,
said^the^abbT^^^^^''" °" recovering your bachelor freedom,"
"I am much obliged to your honour."
Matt laid his oilskin hat on the cloak, and nullf^d ^ -o^liop
he? Za"^" ^'f • '^"*'"" ^" '^^'^^ °ff the" boat: leapedbto
ner, and rowed away towards the schooner in the offing. The
abbe sat on the groyne, with the cloak across his knee, watching
/ 1
■)■'(,.
- ^
if'
^,:
I: )
I' f
1
.-'If
ii
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410
a Iftcnt Squire
the little craft as she grew more and more distant. Finally
he cast a glance of examination at the cloak.
"This is certainly a little above the style of our suicide," he
said to hiniself. " If i- ;ood enough for a cavalry officer."
He felt m the 1 ,, ( m found nothing. Then he turned
It over to msp ... ^, which was stiffened with waddinc
round the shcul.'.-ih and chest. His eye was caught by a sort
of seam down ihe inside of the front, and a little button con-
cealed undei a flap close to the collar.
u »T^ "^^!' ^u'-of-the-way sort of pocket," he soliloquised.
Most pickpockets in a hurry womH - Mok this."
With some trouble he unbi ...iieu tne flap, .vhich covered
the raouth of a deep, narrow pocket. V/hen he inserted his
fingers they just reached far enough to touch the edge of a
folded paper, which could not be felt from the outside, owins
to thiv thickness of the material of the cloak. After several
unsuccessful attempts, he managed to extract the paper, and
found it was a sealed letter, addressed to the earl of Oxford.
"J'esfe/ it seems as if my lord misses some of his corres-
pondence, ' remarked the abb^ to himself. He looked closely
at the seals, and recognised the crest and motto of the Melforf
family.
" That is curious," he muttered. " And now I look closelv,
this 12 lady Melfort's handwriting. What does she wan. v. 1th
lord Oxford this time?"
He look(;rl from the letter to the cloak, and from the cloak
to the letter again. Some dim remini cence seemed struggling
to arouse itself in his mind. Then he gave a great start.
"Sangdieu/" he burst out excitedly, "it is the letter— the
letter that that cursed Gwynett was carrying. This is the
cloak he spread over the chair before th- fire that night at
the Crown and Anchor.' But I thought it belonged to the
other man, and I Ved in the wro i, place. Marvellous « "
CHAPTER XLIX
HOW LORD OXFORD LOOK :D AT THINGS
The abb^ for a minute or
t1 nAV>r\£&^«*-rxr4
t! (i- - - --
H-"--
^God fo;tune, and
• V quite overcr ^e by his
*u * r .Ti ."'. — '^^' " *^^ alrtacy handled
the comfortable sum which Iv.arie JLatour had assured him
was to be the price of the precious epistle. Then ti^ looked
e distant. Finally,
of our suicide," he
cavalry officer."
J. Then he turned
rened with wadding
as caught by a sort
a little button con-
," he soliloquised.
3k this."
lap, ^vhich covered
en he inserted his
uch the edge of a
the outside, owing
)ak. After several
let the paper, and
! earl of Oxford.
)me of his corres-
He looked closely
3tto of the Melforf
low I look closely,
oes she wan., v.ith
nd from the cloak
seemed struggling
a great start,
is the letter — the
ing. This is the
fire that night at
it belonged to the
Marvellous » "
miNGS
overcf Tie by his
alreaoy bandied
had assured him
Then n looked
" It was a sealed letter."
-Paije UIO.
m
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I
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a Ikcnt Squire
4ti
again at the seals. Of these there were four, two of them
being cracked across, and the remainder intact. It happened
that the abWs varied experiences had never included any
practice at tampering with letters by means of facsimile seals,
and the limited resources of the period rendered the dexterous
use of this art almost an entire monopoly of diplomatists'
secretaries. He knew enough of the subject to feel assured
that to bungle the restoration of the seals, after melting the
wax to get at the contents of the letter, would at once invite
detection. On the other hand, Marie I-atour had only been
able to tell him that the letter conveyed a warning of the
Brest expedition of 1694, that it was seriously compromising
to lord Marlborough, and that lady Melfort, without any
contradiction from M. de Torcy, had spoken of its being
worth twenty thousand livres to lord Oxford as a weapon
against the great Whig leader.
This information was by no means a satisfactory substitute
for an exact acquaintance with the letter itself, and the abb^
cogitated seriously whether it would not be better to run
the risk of tampering with the letter than to attempt to deal
with it in ignorance of its exact significance. Finally, he
decided to take the modest view that his own reputation as
the depository of a secret was worth so little that no one
would pay him for the letter if they had the slightest reason
to suspect that he was in a position to sell a knowledge of its
contents to someone else.
Acting upon this decision, he put the paper carefully in his
breast-pocket, picked up Matt's bequests, and returned to
the tavern. Here he made the fateful cloak, hat, and letter
into a parcel, and engaged a lad to carry it, together with
his valise, into Deal. He executed his commission at the
' Crown and Anchor,' and, without wasting any time in learn-
ing its results, hired a horse to carry him through Wray on
his way to London.
On the occasion of the abbes visit to Wray Cottage the
day following the execution, he had found, after awaking
to consciousness, that the place was in charge of an elderly
caretaker, who had left the house for a few minutes' gossip with
a neighbour and been detained by the thunderstorm. From
this custodian he learned that nothing had been heard of
madam Rostherne and her niece since their departure for
Devonshire, and that Muriel hid certainly not come into the
neighbourhood. Later inquiry from the housekeeper at
Wray Manor elicited no further information, and the abbe
i
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Mt ^
|I2
a ikeut Squire
had been compelled to return to London a good deal puzzled
as to what could have become of Muriel after leaving
Maidstone. He had since then, at intervals of a couple
of months or so, made two visits to Wray, and been equally
unsuccessful each time. The Wrays were still absent, and
the housekeeper at the Manor had apparently been instructed
to say as little about them as possible.
On this present journey the abbd hoped to find that the
family had returned to the Manor for the summer, and that
his pursuit of Muriel might be again resumed. But on
arriving at Wray he found matters precisely as he had left
them. The house was shut up, the housekeeper was not at
home, and the serving-wench whom he found at the lodee
knew nothing about anything.
The abbd resumed his ride to London with a good deal
of vexation, and consequently paid no particular attention to
the fragments of gossip which met his ears on the road. But
at Gravesend, where he arrived too late to continue his journey
that day he became aware that a notable recent event was
in everybody's mouth. This was the famous duel between
the duke of Hamilton and lord Mohun, which had taken
place a few days previously, and the news of which had missed
him during a cross-country journey from Versailles.
After lord Bolingbroke's return from Paris the queen had
insisted upon the carrying out of her original plan of sending
the Jacobite duke of Hamilton to Fiance, ostensibly as
ambassador-extraordinary, but in reality to make secret
arrangements for the succession of her brother, the chevalier
de bt. George, to the English throne after her own decease.
The duke was on the point of setting out upon his mission
when some episode m an interminable lawsuit between him-
self and lord Mohun— an aristocratic rake, bully, and black-
guard of the first water— led to a challenge from the latler
1 he disputants met in Kensington Gardens on November icth
Mohun being seconded by a certain general Macartney, a
Whig hanger-on of lord Marlborough. The duke of Hamilton
who received a severe wound in the early passes, killed his
adversary on the spot. But immediately afterwards, according
to the report of his .second, colonel Hamilton, the duke was
stabbed m the breast by Macartney, and died in a few
minutes. The assassin escoped, a proclamation was issued
against hmi by the Privy Council, and the Tor" 'v".rt*- \yiV •
voice accused the duke of Marlborough of havVng inXa'ted
both the challenge and the murder.
■•-y$t
I good deal puzzled
Uriel after leaving
:rvals of a couple
^ and been equally
re still absent, and
tly been instructed
d to find that the
summer, and that
esumed. But on
ely as he had left
ikeeper was not at
Dund at the lodge
with a good deal
ticular attention to
on the road. But
Jntinue his journey
i recent event was
lous duel between
which had taken
which had missed
sailles.
ris the queen had
il plan of sending
ice, ostensibly as
to make secret
ther, the chevalier
her own decease,
upon his mission,
suit between him-
bully, and black-
e from the latter.
1 November 15th,
jral Macartney, a
luke of Hanulton,
passes, killed his
Twards, according
3n, the duke was
1 died in a few
lation was issued
having instigated
a Tkent Squire 4x3
This piece of news caused the abb^ to pass a tolerably bad
night. He exercised his mind for several hours in a vain
attempt to decide whether the document he carried was
likely to be worth less or more in consequence of the new
charge against lord Marlborough. If the duke was seriously
implicated m the assassination, he was probably already in
the way of being ruined, without any extraneous assistance
being necessary. On the other hand, his enemies might
require to attach to him just the additional amount of odium
which the abb^ thought he was in a position to furnish.
Pmally, he decided to feel his way with lord Oxford before
allowing anything about his trouvaille to transpire and
composed himself to slumber.
The next morning he proceeded to report himself at
Downing Street, and paid his first visit to the foreign
secretary s office. There he was told that lord Bolingbroke
was engaged, but hoped to see him in the course of an hour
"Will that be convenient to you, M. I'abb^?" asked the
clerk who brought the message.
"Quite," replied the abbd " I will go and see lord Oxford
in the meantime."
The clerk bowed politely, and turned to an usher at the
other end of the room.
" His lordship will receive the baron von Starhemberg," he
called out. A cousin of the imperial general," he added for
Gaultier s benefit.
The abb^ glanced casually at the newcomer, as he was led
by the usher from a side room into lord Bolingbroke's private
office. He was a tall old man, bent nearly double, with a
very swarthy complexion, and heavy white eyebrows and
cavalry moustache. A few words addressed to the usher
showed that he was conversant with English, although speaking
with a strong south German accent. He passed on with
ou noticing the abb^ or the clerk, and dis .ppeared into
Bohngbroke's room. The abbd took his leave, and went to
by lorToxford ^'^ ^^ '^''' received with his usual cordiality
M"Str^/°""'^^^y°J'' '^P^'* y^^ *° '^""^ Bolingbroke,
was seat4 *"'^"' treasurer, as soon as his visito^
" He is engaged at the moment," replied the abb^. « I am
• -» imiv. luici.
" I Will join him, then, to save you telling your tale twice
over. Anything new in Paris ? "
i
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414
H Ikent Squire
"Very little. The news of the confirmation of the king of
Spain s renunciation by the Cortes arrived just as I left Bu
n?th^Ti, . »"''''^'"^, "°i.^!^^^ S°^"g °" he^e- I only heard
O'thedukeof Hamilton's affair last night."
^' Ah? " said the treasurer, in a neutral tone.
.K- " '^.^"?' awkward for lord Marlborough. Is there any-
thing definite to connect him with the matter?" ^
" Nothing transpired before the Council," replied Oxford.
; All the better," thought the abbd. Then he went on
There is a little matter which I think ought to be' men-
*' Certainly, my dear abbe."
" It t°"''^,''"i ^""'^ Marlborough, I believe. It has come
o my knowledge, m a way I am not at liberty to disclose
that a certain person holds a letter of the duke's to St. Germain'
written just before the Brest disaster in 1694, of a ven'
thTexp^diJrol" ~''"°""'^"^' '" ^'''' ^" ^ ^'''^y^^ °f
The treasurer nodded acquiescingly.
''I am not aware of the actual wording of the letter but the
holder asserts that if produced it would%onvict the duke so
TauThorL^ei^ '^™''' '"^ proceedings against him wou?d
J' Zt\''^ f^'^'J ^ ^°°^ ^^^^'" ^^'■'^ the treasurer. " How
does the holaer of the letter propose to act in the matter ? »
bo far as I can make out," replied the abb^, "it is reallv
a question of the importance of such a letter to the intere ts
of her majesty's government. For the holder to part with
would expose him to the enmity of lord Marlborough The
duke ,s not the sort of enemy an obscure person cares to
make— without good reasons."
'' Probf W '^"'^^^''°"^ ^^'"^ financial ones, probably ? "
The treasurer rapidly ran over in his mind the firos and
cons of the proposed transaction. The problem wesented
was not altogether simple, and the chief difficulty lay n he
probability that the asserted letter was quite as compromis n-,
to the duke as it was stated to be. pi^omising
The fact was that the progress of events had rendered
Oxford more afraid of his colleague Bolingbroke than of his
opponent Marlborough. The rapid failing of the queen'
health was brrrinnirKr ^^ ;5Y,.,,>-.i ,u^ ^- r- ^;;"- queens
. . _-_,——..- ... uripvrji me position 01 liie iorv
ministry to a serious extent, and the treasurer had to take
a Ikent Squire
415
nation of the king of
?d just as I left. But
1 here. I only heard
tone.
ough. Is there any-
natter ? "
1," replied Oxford.
hen he went on,
ik ought to be men-
on its being treated
lieve. It has come
t liberty to disclose,
uke's to St. Germain,
in 1694, of a very
ict, to a betrayal of
of the letter, but the
:onvict the duke so
against him would
; treasurer. "How
in the matter ? "
i abbd, " it is really
tter to the interests
Ider to part with it
Marlborough. The
ire person cares to
probably ? "
mind the j>ros and
problem presented
lifficulty lay in the
e as compromising
2nts had rendered
?broke than of his
ig of the queen's
ition of the Tory
isurer had to taki-
into account the risk of an imminent Guelph succession, and
the consequent return of the Whigs to power. While he was
extremely anxious that the duke of Marlborough should make
matters temporarily comfortable by leaving the country, he
was equally anxious to avoid being openly instrumental in
driving him abroad. As regards action at home, he had
all through the session taken care that the blovs dealt at
Marlborough should come from the queen, the privy council,
and the majority in the Commons, and not directly from
himself. But any action based upon this asserted letter would
require to be taken by himself individually. In this case,
whether the duke got out of the imbroglio or succumbed,
it would equally be hopeless for the treasurer to expect any
quarter under a Hanoverian succession from the enraged
Whigs.
It also happened that he had been secretly busy in getting
indirect pressure put upon the duke, by which he himself
ran no risk at all. The Blenheim contractors, who had been
left unpaid by the queen, had been egged on to sue the duke
for their arrears of ;^3o,ooo, and the Commons had revived
the proceedings for the restoration of the 2^ per cent, de-
duction from the war-chest, of which mention has already been
made. The treasurer had reason to believe that these steps
were already likely to induce Marlborough to retire to the
continent, so that to put superfluous pressure might be as
useless as it was dangerous. On the other hand, to lay out
money on a purchase which might turn out not to be needed
was the last thing in the world to commend itself to lord
Oxford. On the whole, he decided that the abba's bombshell
had better not be thrown, for the present at all events, and
that therefore he would decline to negotiate for the missile
in question.
" Well, my dear abb^," he said finally, " I cannot say that
any useful suggestion occurs to me to make in this affair.
It IS, of course, possible that your friend's letr.er may be every-
thmg that he supposes ; but all these matters are nearly a
score of years old, and we should look rather ridiculous if we
pretended to make a fuss about them now. At least, that is
my personal view of the affair— you must take it for what it
is worth."
This speech came upon the abbe as an intensely disagreeable
surprise. However, he gulped down his disappointment, and
rcpiica,
" Probably your U-rdship is quite right."
t
^-rnrnm
416
1 1
a mm Squire
! \
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"At the same time," went on Oxford, " such a letter is not
to be thrown away. The time may come when it would be
uncommonly useful,"
" I will mention what you say, my lord."
" As you please, my dear abb^. And now let us have some
lunch."
As soon as this meal had been discussed, the treasurer and
Oaultier went to Bolingbroke's office, and the abbd presented
his formal report on the progress of the treaty negotiations
A desultory discussion followed, after which the abb^ took
his leave, and went off to his rooms in the Strand.
He was profoundly disgusted at the unexpected coldness
with which his offer had been received by lord Oxford, and
for the moment felt very much inclined to hand the letter to
one of the Grub Street news-sheets out of pure spite. But
this rash impulse did not survive a second thought, and he
addressed himself to the problem of making his market some-
where else.
Lord Bolingbroke was probably hopeless, as he was person-
ally on excellent terms with the duke of Marlborough, and
his political opposition was notoriously a mere question of
ambitiori and self-interest. As a possible purchaser of the
letter, his motives would be very likely those of a friend to
the duke rather than an enemy. But the abbe felt regretfully
that his friendliness would not run to twenty thousand livres
or even twenty thousand brass buttons. '
The queen herself was amongst the most bitter enemies of
the duke. She was, however, scarcely accessible, and, in any
case, would probably be too timid to deal independently with
such a matter.
There remained lord Marlborough himself, and it was a
question whether any possible degree of prospective unpleasant-
ness or danger would seem to his lordship an adequate reason
for parting with his cherished guineas. But the near approach
of the elector's succession to the throne made much the same
impression upon the abbe as it did upon lord Oxford. Ho
saw at once that, in default of anything better, it might turn
out a paying investment to pose as the duke's guardian angel
and chivalrous defender, by making him a present of the letter.
He therefore decided to call at Marlborough House as soon
as he had fortified himself with a good dinner.
In the meantime, the duke's own affliirK w.^rf rou^in^f h'-ni
an infinity of worry and anxiety. He was not in g'ood'hiiaith*
and he was, moreover, feeling acutely the loss he had sustained
low let us have some
a Iftent Squire 4,7
by the death of his closest friend Gndnlnh;« « c
previously. The lawsuit of i^^Bwl^^tntrl,^, Ifl
S,rre„°;rre-i?r^^^^^^^^^^^
Se. James's, Octotr" 'Ch. Ti'e /The'tdgTrecLt'l
day or two afterwards, he had asLd fnV !« « 7 ^ *
Bolingbroke in reply had merely remarked w1?h f P^?^Vo»-
Sis t^rS- S^SS
My LORD, " November 26t/t, ly 12.
^^^S^i^^-^-^"-^-'^" on . „a«cr
Gaultier du Fresne de Beauval."
»7
rr'**"
WOM
'ii
i
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1
^1
Hi
IIS
418 a Ikent Squire
CHAPTER L
DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND
The duke passed the note back to Cardonnel, and asked,
" Who is this Gaultier, etc., etc. ? Is not that the name
of the agent they have been sending to Utrecht ? "
" The same,"' replied Cardonnel. " He is hand in glove
with lord Oxford. Do you think it safe to see him ? "
"Why not?"
" These people are all perfectly furious about the Hamilton
affair. You must not forget the marquis de Guiscard at the
Cockpit last year."
" Pooh ! do you suppose they would have the impudence
to assassinate me ? "
" They might find it very convenient if someone would do
it for them."
" But why this fellow ? "
" I don't know. Not knowing, I suspect. Anyhow, if you
give him an interview, take precautions. People do not come
here from lord Oxford for aiiy good, I should fancy."
" That isn't his style, my dear fellow, at all."
'• PossiJDly, but it may be this Gauitier's style. See him, if
you choose, only allow me to make a little arrangement first."
The secretary went out, and returned with a couple of long
double-barrelled pistols. He placed these on the duke's table,
and covered them artistically with loose papers. The handles
lay towards the duke's writing-chair, and were within a few
inches of his hands as he sat. The muzzles pointed to the
easy-chair in which callers usually sat, near the other side of
the table. So arranged, the pistols were already aimed, and
could be fired without taking them up.
"That will make things comfortable, I think," said the
secretary. 'M propos, something occurs to me which falls
in with my suspicions. One of our last letters from Bar-le-duc
mentioned that this Gaultier had been there lately with the
duke of Berwick. Lord Hamilton is a frightful loss in that
quarter, and, of course, you get the credit of it at present."
The duke was, in spite of himself, a little impressed by
Cardonnel's warnings.
" I don't say your idea is impossible," he remarked ; " but
it would be ridiculous not to see him. Show him in, my dear
fellow, and then leave us."
a Tf^ent Squire
419
The secretary went out, and returned with the abb^ TJ,«
duke rose, and bowed to his visitor. ^''^
"Do me the favour to be seated M ranu;^, » j ,
somewhat distasteful to your lordshb aI\ „ ?''';°"
been entrusted .ith a sh'are alZu'^h a hum^r ta t'
The duke waved his hand politely,
any terms, however dLdv^mag^ous— » ""°™« P""^' ^"
to serve your lordship's interests" ""^ ""^ ^^^
^?''^L/l''^'y Sood of you, M. I'abbe."
" Your InXv''^ "" '"°"'^"^' ^"^ ^hen went on,
::£ »w,rinr,^rd-i-s^^^^
- sp&tTor r-ft srni-f '^.t-r --
because this proof „aTSi„'° ■.'^""^ '""^""P ^'°'^. " "a.,
.haJ TheT:lfrot'VUrd ^tlulh'" t" =■ f ™'"8 '-P'-""
»as coming next "* " "' "">' ™>dered%rh,-,i
•I"
r
1' '
420
B fkcnt Squire
I i^
1:1
{■.^
" You interest me very much, my dear sir," he replied
urbanely. " I presume you can go a little more into detail
on the matters you have mentioned ? "
" With your lordship's permission I will do so."
The abb^ drew his chair rather closer, with a confidential
air. The duke's hand strayed a little nearer to the pistol-butt,
and he replied,
" I am all attention, M. I'abb^."
"Amongst your lordship's ill-wishers," asked the abb^, " do
you happen to be aware of one Ambrose Gwynett ? "
The duke recollected that this was the name of the owner
of the F/eur de Lys, but it was otherwise unknown to him.
He did not, however, see any use in telling the abb^ this,
so merely replied,
" You may assume that much, M. I'abb^."
The duke's affirmation took the abbd a good deal by
surprise. For a moment or two he felt at a loss how to
proceed without running the risk of inadvertently inventing
some impossibility which would be at once obvious to his
listener. Finally, he asked cautiously,
" Is your lordship acquainted with his whereabouts ? "
" Not in the least," replied the duke.
" Good ! " thought the abbd, " he has never heard of the
execution." He went on aloud,
" May I ask how far back is your lordship's latest knowledge
of his proceedings ? "
" Probably a twelvemonth since," replied the duke, with an
inward sigh for his vanished million.
" That would be about the time," hazarded the abb^, " of
his somewhat equivocal connection with a certain vessel called
the Fieur de Lys ? "
It was now the duke's turn to be staggered.
" The deuce ! " he said to himself, " is it possible this fellow
knows anything ? " Then he said aloud,
" Ah ! the F/eur de Lys, was it ? "
"Your lordship is probably informed of that affair?"
observed the abb6.
The duke bowed assentingly, and remarked,
"Nevertheless, I should Hke to hear your version, M. I'abbd"
" It appears that this Gwynett, my lord, was aware of certain
treasure-chests on board the brig, which hart iust arrived at
Calais, and were to be removed to Paris."
" Ah !" thought the duke, with a good deal of relief, " this
is the other end of the stick."
t possible this fellow
1 of that affair?
deal of relief, *' this
a tkcnt Squire 4,,
"He arranged a very daring plan to cantiirf- thic »,.
on Its way to the camtni " «,o.?* h"»'» i" capiure this treasure
which I hU°heVod orLeTn »°" '^^ '^^^ ^''^'y* "^ P'^n
At the time I hIh n^r , '^""^ J° ^^^ instrumental in defeating
see^'oT/lrcoV^eere^^^^^ tt '''^' ^'^' ^ ^^ "°^ P--'^
poller tret is^Gw^Ln^^^^^^^^^ hlt^ ^'^'^ ^'^'"^ ^'^
portant piece of news. ^ When I Iv fhat 2^°^" '""^^ •'^-
a lady, upon whose staJm^nf t^ that my informant was
reliance, ySu? lordship l^lToHn >?" P'""^ ""^''y P°^«'ble
explicit as\o my aulhoHty/' °"^'' '"'"'" "^^ being more
1! I applaud your discretion, M. I'abbd "
had Issls^lTd^^^llfetrt^o":^^^^^^^^^ .T. '""^'^ ^^'^ ^^-"
lordship's from lord Me fort's rooms at St rT ^'"'' °7°"^
setting out for England to sellTtTo \nJn V T'"' '""'^ ^^^
against your lordship." '"'"^ ^"^"'^ ^^ ^ weapon
'^?-!h y»\'°°^ •'i''' ''^'■y '•^ther seriously.
fhejr^uii! h^e%:s^a;;\tri;;; ij^tef i^aV^ft ^^"'r
looks as ,f somebody were behind\im '" ^ ^ '^'"^' ^'
ceeded^^GauUier'' that"h^J^ confess to" your lordship," pro-
reason^We." ""'"'>'■ **■ '''"'''^' ^"^ P°'"' <>( view fa qui.e
The abW bowed, and went on,
belfeve"'tha. pSr^a's p7c.L°at """ ' ^^O/^^y -a^on ,o
rose in revolt at the ,de?^,fr'>^ "•':'"■'=.<'• ""'' ^^ "".v instincts
to ruin one of the 'latest me^'of'"'"''"" ^'"^ "'""-''' <""
disciple of mv illusSf ' „ " 5 ""i °*" " ""X age-a
of a ^Itry han^dfu, o, "^LT''"""" ^utenne-for the'sake
and'hedukeKinl'dour^' "''"' ■■"""'-•"« ""'•■"cy,
saying, '" S'^'^'™' acceptance of the compliment|
[I : ■ '
i
■)
' ^i
4'^
B "^icnt Sauire
"I am, of course, flattered to hear that any specimen of
my poor scrihl)!(: is considered worth selling. But I am
quite at a loss, M. I'abW, to think of one tli. t would be
worth buying."
Gaultier cleared his throat, and drew his chair a little nearer.
The duke negligently closed his fingers round the butt of
the nearest pistol, and smiled blandly upon his visitor.
" My lord," said the abb^, in a low tone, " this letter was
one concerning the expedition to Brest in 1694. It was sent
to king James II, through colonel Sackville."
The duke's face continued to smile, but his heart seemed
to stop beating. For a moment or two he was perfectl) unable
to utter a single word. Then he drew a long breath, and
remarked slowly,
"I cannot say my memory serves me in the matter, M.
I'abb^. But pray continue your story."
"Well, my lord, it seems that this Gwynett, who had
apparently some extraordinary hatred of your lordship, had
boasted of being about to receive twenty thousand livres
from lord Oxford for this letter, and that its publication would
bring your lordship to the Tower or even to Tower Hill. I
instantly determined that, at all cost and risk to myself, I
would safeguard your lordship against this piece of mercenary
revenge."
" It wa- s.xtTe.nely good of you, M. I'abb^," said the duke.
" And h' ' ' CiKt you act ? "
"I set a.-fde the private business which had taken me to
Paris, and mi mediately followed in the track of this Gwynett
to England. I was lucky enough to overtake him near Deal,
a few hours before he was going to have the first opportunity
of meeting lord Oxford. This was early on last New Year'.s
Eve. I failed in my first attempt to secure the letter from
his person, but was able to follow him, unrecognised, to an
inn at Deal. The same evening, my lord, I was favoured by
a wonderful opportunity of ridding you of your enemy for
good, and I at once availed myself of it. Did your lordship
hear of the occurrences that night at the * Crown and
Anchor ' ? »
" I have no recollection of anything of the sort."
"Not the robbery and murder by Ambrose Gwynett, and
the subsequent execution of the murderer ? "
"Not a word. You can quite understand that about that
time I had my attention a little too much occupied to have
any leisure for gossip. I can scarcely suppose the matter was
in the matter, M.
b^," said the duke.
a Hicnt Squire 423
mentioned in my he.-ing, because I shoulu uinly have
been struckl.v the name. ^Vkat were the circu tan^es^ "
^Jrll f^i ^'"?- ^I' ^^"^ "^f ^ ^'s breast-pocket, and the
watchfu duke put his finger round the trigger of the pistol C
as Gault.er only pulled out an old nLs-.sheet, he duke
quietly withdrew his hand again. ' ^
hJT^J'P''P^':i '"y ^'''^' S'^^^ a" '-account ,f the ,e as
detailed in evidence at the trial," said Gaultier Dassu.^ thp
me e .ecution. Then he returned it to tl ,u6
"It?Sn^^'ofi'^HP.^'•°^^'■• ^^'' -'"'"'he remarked.
"By no means," replied the abbd "The arrest of vnnr
o?S J ,'°r'/ "'\"°,^ ^^'^^ ^^^ «^«^ «t^P towarS'rSdh g'you
prove tnt best and only oppa^tunity of securing the letter he
earned. I was able to search his person before he was re
nioved in custody, but found nothing. Thenltookrstan;
hfd'K u- ?' '?"^"u^'°" ^° «^^^^h the clothes and valise he
n^fto&nd L-ny'^he'r^er-'- ^"^-^""^^^^^' ^'^^ ^^^ -
narTative"''''' ^'^' """'^ ^'"'"''^ '''^^'^'' ^' ^^is detail of the
obse^ed'cd'dlv'°""Tr/ ''Tu'''' ''''' "^^ ^^^ «-'' he
u • u ^^^'^'y- That IS, if there was anv letter nf nil
which personally I venture to doubt." ^ ""'''
fiat rw!n!i!^; ^ ""^^ P^'^?^^'^ ''^'^^'" th''»t there was a letter, and
u e eS LT mftVZr r" .i'"' '-^^ disappearance made U
subect YoTwn„M . ''^?'^1!^'''".S y^""- ^^^d^hip on the
shoT."hav?onir:ld X^l'L'^ '"" •""^^"^°"'' -^ ^
began *ti"^hini; '/v "^"''^ "^.^'' ^- ^'«^^^'" '^^^ ^^e duke, who
''Sin that r.^''7'\"^'^^ ^]^' ^ deplorably feeble tory
your Usent visk ? " ° "''' '" ' ^"'^'^^^ ^°^ ^'^^ ^°-- «^
The abbe did not see the use of drawing nnon hi. .V-^---
which'7e tT:^ r^ ^" "'^"^^^^ the circumstances S;
which he had at last come into possession of lady Melfort's
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424
a Ikent Squire
** Thus, my lord," he concluded, " I am happily in a position
to claim credence for the earlier details of my story, and I
trust your lordship is satisfied of my good faith, and, what is
more, of my devotion to your lordship's interests."
" Perfectly, my dear sir," replied the duke, whose interest
was now fully aroused.
The abbd again put his hand in his pocket, and brought
out a flat package with more than one sealed covering. While
he was carefully undoing these, the duke watched him with
close attention.
" Is it a trick or not ? " he asked himself anxiously. " The
letter may be genuine, and he will want to sell it. Or it may
be a trap of Oxford's — no letter, or only a forgery — and they
want me to commit myself. I wonder what he will ask ? "
Meanwhile, the abb^ was hurriedly making a final decision
as to the course to adopt with lady Melfort's letter. He fore-
saw that the duke might consider it as dangerous to pay for
the letter as to refuse to buy it. He could, without any great
straining of probability, repudiate it as an impudent fabrication.
But to buy it would be to admit its genuineness, and the abbe
feared that this was almost too much to expect. On the
other hand, by trying to drive a bargain and failing, he would
shut himself out from all chance of affecting the magnanimous,
and of thereby putting the duke under an obligation. Just
as he broke the last seal of his extra cover, he reluctantly
decided that it would be easier, wiser, and infinitely safer to
offer the letter gratis. He unfolded a thin sheet of paper,
took out the letter, and handed it to lord Marlborough.
" This is the letter of which we have been speaking, my
lord," he said.
The duke took the letter, and recognised in an instant that
the address was in lady Melfort's handwriting, and that the
seal was the one she always employed. It was thus quite
probable that, after all, the abb6 was not lying. The duke
began to feel that he was on very thin ice indeed. He specu-
lated pleasantly for a moment on the expediency of putting
a bullet through the abb^ without more ado, but regretfully
came to the conclusion that this comfortable solution of the
difficulty could not be safeiy entertained. He made a real
effort, and handed the letter back to the abb^ with a bow.
** Certainly, this address seems to have been written by some
lady using the Melfort seal," he remarked indifferently. " But
as to the contents, my dear sir, you must excuse my being a
Httle sceptical about my possible concern with them."
a ment Squire 425
The abbd was so taken aback at finding the letter in his
own hands again, that it was a moment or two before it
occurred to him to say, uciure it
" If there are any doubts still in your mind, my lord thev
can easily be removed." ^ ' ^
" How, M. I'abbd ? "
" By opening the letter, my lord "
tl-.e^ibbf"^ ^^"""""^ ^^""^ '" ^'' ''^''"' ^"^ ^^^'^^^ blandly at
bv'l^d Ox?o!S- S^"^^^^^''; !^^r^n^-rked, "if you are authorised
by lord Oxford to open his private correspondence it is of
course, no affair of mine. But you can understand tha' under
toXfiXTor-' ' ''-' ' '-'^-^ ^^-' ^"--^ y-
Tne abbd began to feel he was losing ground
let ef f. IT"^'" ^' ''^"'^ ^''''^y' "y«' "^'^take me. This
letter is at your service, to make what use you like of it I
pace it m your lordship's hands unreservedly." And the
duki '°'' '"^ '"'^ '^' ^''''' "" '^' ^^ble again before the
jy^"- ""^f ^'^'■"'u' ^- ^''■^^^^" ^«ked the duke, who was
determined to push the matter home
regrJt.""'^' """""' ""^ ^°'^'" '''^ '^^ ^^^^' ^^^h a pang of
m"??,!-^"" ^ certain amount of responsibility upon me
M. Gaultier," said the duke, negligently taking up the letter'
as a new suspicion came into his mind. ^ " If you L nren^ "d
yourself to withhold this document from lord Oxfo'dl^''
uZ.A "?? ''^^''^^^ ^°, ^^^"'^"^ the seals closely, and then
turned suddenly upon the abbe
shir Jy!'" '^^^' ^^""^ ^^^" ^^"'P^'"^^ ^'th, sir ! " he said
The abb^ had had occasion to be so painfully aware of hi-,
hurrat"t"°''"'' °' ''" '^^"^^^^°" *^^ 'h^ ^^1' eLTedingV
virllSuft^iI^Lj?' "^' "^ '°^^'" ^^ ^"-^ -t' -th
pliS'ed har'in^F "°' ^'"J ^°^^°^^y y^^^^ the most accom-
SL were tellfn J?h' T'^u''' i?''^'"'"^ ^o know when other
tKbb?srPr„^"? ^'f^- , He recognised the sincerity of
me abbe s repudiation, and replied, in a sunver ton^
about tl^ seals'^ in'J' ''• '''^^'■. ' P/^haps I'mly be mistaken
It onlv occn ; J" ^"'! ^^'^ " '« «^ "" possible consequence.
only occurs to me to observe that the account you have
t^mSiMA
^^^^g/l^agmg^^
426
a 1kent Squire
J J
given me scarcely bears out your description of matters in
the first instance. It is not, of course, your fault that I feel
a little disappointed."
" In what way, my lord ? " asked the abbd anxiously.
" I gathered, from your introductory remarks, that you took
an active part in what you have called.^ ' getting rid of one
of my enemies,' and also in securing this letter. Ycu will
allow me to point out that, through no fault of yours, the
letter seems to have been lighted upon by pure chance.
And as to Mr. Gwynett, of whose ill-will to myself I have
no evidence, his removal has been evidently due to the
ordinary course of justice."
The abbd was thrown completely off his guard by the
profound injustice of this complaint.
" Not at all, my lord ! " he cried hastily. " Had it not
been for me, Mr. Gwynett would have been alive and well,
and would have carried out his project."
The duke recognised that a new note had been struck, and
contemplated the abb^ with some curiosity.
" Explain, my dear sir," said he.
" My lord," replied Gaultier, " I will ask you to recollect
that severe diseases require severe remedies, as tho justification
for what I am about to tell you."
*• Without doubt," assented the duke.
The abb^ plunged at once in medias res. He was, of course,
not unconscious of the fact that carping critics might taki;
exception to the means by which he had secured Gwynett's
arrest. But he opined— and probably correctly — that the
duke was the last man in the world to affect nishness
when an important end had to be gained. ' therefore
gave a full account of his own share in the proceedings at
the 'Crown and Anchor,' modifying the episode at VVray
Cottage into a personal struggle between himself and Gwynett
for the possession of the letter. He concluded by remarking,
" I trust, iny lord, you will now admit I am justified in
claiming some share in relieving you of this unscrupulous
villain."
The duke began to think he could see daylight in the whole
business.
"That explains things," he said to himself. "It is some
old score of his own he has been paying off. As to this letter,
it must be some trap of Oxford's, or else this fellow would
certainly have asked money for it. But I will give him one
more chance." He went on aloud,
H Hicnt Squire
427
)n of matters in
■ fault that I feel
anxiously.
rks, that you took
etting rid of one
letter. Ycm will
ult of yours, the
by pure chance,
to myself I have
ntly due to the
iis guard by the
y. " Had it not
;n alive and well,
i been struck, and
: you to recollect
as thf justification
He was, of course,
critics might tak(i
secured Gwynett's
orrectly — that the
ffecl nishness
2d. ' therefore
the proceedings at
episode at Wray
mself and Gwynett
led by remarking,
I am justified in
this unscrupulous
ylight in the whole
self. " It is some
As to this letter,
this fellow would
will give him one
" Certainly, your account puts a different complexion on the
affair, M. I'aijbd. In regard to this letter "
The duke hesitated, and the abb^ put in promptly,
" I have said already, my lord, that that matter is at an end.
By placing it in your hands I have, I hope, done you a service.
If not, I have at all events fulfilled what I regarded as a sacred
duty. I have no more to say, my lord."
The duke bowed, took up the letter, and put it in one of
the drawers of ihe table. He shut and locked the drawer, and
then turned to the abbe.
"It only remains for me, M. I'abbd," he remarked, "to
express my sense of the way in which you have acted through-
out this very interesting affair."
The abba's hopes grew roseate at this exordium, and he
prepared a modestly deprecatory smile,
"It appears to me, M. Gaultier," proceeded the duke,
with extreme distinctness of utterance, " that yen are the
most damnable scoundrel I ever met in the who e course
of my life."
The abbd was so petrified with astonishment that he could
only stare at the duke in silence.
" As to this letter of yours," went on th;. duke, " it is either
some childish trick or a clumsy forgery, and I do not believe
a single word of your cock-and-bull story about it. But I
fully accept your statement as to your share in Mr. Gwynett's
disastrous fate, and I givp you my word of honour that if we
were over in Holland I would have you hung within a quarter
of an hour."
The abb^ rose from his chair, perfectly livid, and with his
features working convulsively.
" My lord," he stammered, " this outrage "
The duke got up in his turn, and struck the silver call-bell
on the table.
"Leave the house, sir!" he thundered, as Cardonnel
made a prompt appearance behind the abbe. "Mr.
Cardonnel, be good enough to have this blackguard kicked
into the street."
Gaultier glared murderously from the duke to the secretary,
and seemed almost to gasp for breath. Then he picked up
his hat, and Cardonnel, in a somewhat gingerly fashion,
opened the door. The abbd's lips parted as if he were
about to speak, but after a moment's pause he appeared to
decide that it was useless. He turned slowly and went
out, a mist before his blazing eyes, and his soul bursting
BeS=**"
428
H Ikcnt Squire
1
with fury and despair. Cardonnel followed, and closed the
door behind him.
The duke sat down, and chuckled softly to himself. He
took out his snuff-box, and helped himself to a pinch with
an air of profound enjoyment.
" What an ass ! " he soliloquised. " And really ha had
a very passable hand to play, if he had only known it."
A door opened and shut, and the duchess came up to him
with a letter in her hand.
" This has just come from St. Germain," she said. " I
heard you were engaged, or I would have brought it to you
before."
The duke opened the letter, and read :
"My dear lord Churchill,
I have just made a discovery, of which I think it well you
should be informed. Thinking over the escape of Mr.
Dorrington from the Bastille, which I reported to you at the
time, I was led yesterday to look over our correspondence
of 1694 in connection with the Brest aifair. Very niuch to
my surprise, I find your letter of May 4th is missing. It is
some time since I went through these papers, and I have
no explanation to suggest of the disappearance.
Melfort."
"The devil!" commented the duke, passing the letter to
the duchess, " the worthy abbd has been telling part of the
truth, at all events."
" It must have been stolen ! " cried the duchess, after
perusing Melfort's epistle.
"I have no doubt of it," replied the duke, "and it happens,
by a most charming coincidence, that the thief has just
walked out of that door. The stolen letter has been the
subject of our last half-hour's conversation."
" Good heavens ! " gasped the duchess, " are you serious ?
What has become of it ? "
" It is in this drawer," replied Marlborough, turning the
key in the lock, and bringing out the packet. " My visitor
kindly left it with me, as you see."
He broke the seals of lady Melfort's letter, and unfolded
the cover. It contained a blank sheet of paper.
For several seconds the duke sat motionless and silent,
looking at the paper with an air of complete stupefaction.
The duchess took it from his unresisting fingers, and turned
it over.
■d, and closed the
7 to himself. He
If to a pinch with
ind really he had
known it."
iss came up to him
n," she said. "I
brought it to you
I think it well you
he escape of Mr.
lorted to you at the
our correspondence
air. Very r:iuch to
th is missing. It is
papers, and I have
ince.
Melfort."
ssing the letter to
telling part of the
the duchess, after
;, " and it happens,
:he thief has just
;ter has been the
'* are you serious ?
ough, turning the
;ket. " My visitor
tter, and unfolded
per.
ionless and silent,
plete stupefaction.
ingers, and turned
'^«ife.
:|
ll
A blank sheet of paper.
-/•aji' /,.'S.
I-
ill
ibii
I ' J IU:| I
f '
ii ',1
B Ikent Squire
43(^
" I do not understand this," she said, in a puzzled tone.
"What does it mean?"
The duke did not seem to hear, but gazed vacantly before
him. Then, with a little start, he drew a deep breath and
raised his head.
"It is quite clear," he said hoarsely. "I don't know
whether that abbd is duper or duped. But it is certain Oxford
has the letter. That accounts for St. John sending me the
passport."
" You think he knows ? "
"Possibly not everything — but enough. Is Kermode
gone ? "
" I think so. Why ? "
" I leave London within ten minutes— that is, if I am not
arrested in the meantime. I shall go with Cadogan in the
Royal Mary. You must follow me to Antwerp as soon as I
arrive there."
" I think you are quite right," said the duchess.
CHAPTER LI
IN WHICH MR. WROTTESLEY IS VERY MUCH SURPRISED
Lord Bolingbroke looked up with some little curiosity when
the usher opened the door and announced the baron von
Starhemberg. He wondered if, by any chance, the visitor would
turn out to be bearer of some tentative proposals on the part
of general von Starhemberg's master the emperor. The latt
was, at the present time, vowing by all his gods that so far frou,
agreeing to the peace which was being negotiated at Utrecht,
he would fight all Europe sooner than give up his claims
to the Spanish monarchy. Lord Bolingbroke rose, bowed
politely, motioned the baron to a chair, and waited for him to
commence he conversation.
" My lord," began the old gentleman, speaking in English
slowly and with hesitation, " I must apologise for venturing to
trespass upon your time in connection with my private affairs."
I am nilitf af vonr CfinTiVp Kqrori A/Tov T ne\r it «»^n
would prefer to use French in our conversation ? I am sorry
I myself do not speak German."
*• If you will excuse my very rusty English, my lord," said
I
mi
•k
430
a llceut Squire
the baron, " I should prefer it. I may say that I address
myself to you in this matter, rather than to lord Oxford,
because I am under the impression that my business may
perhaps in some trifling degree be more interesting to you
than to him."
" Let us hear, at all events, my dear sir."
" Your lordship is acquainted, I believe, with the Wray family,
of Wray Manor ? "
" Very well indeed."
"You have also made the acquaintance of squire Wray's
ward, mistress Muriel Dorrington ? "
" I met her once only — a perfectly charming young lady.
She has been disastrously unlucky in some engagement, if 1
recollect right. Was not \iQX fiance hung ? "
" Unfortunately, yes. His name was Ambrose Gwynett."
" Did you know him ? "
" I am his only surviving relative — his uncle."
" Dear ! dear ! " ejaculated the viscount sympathetically, and
rather at a loss what else to say.
" It is in connection with his deplorable fate that I have
ventured to ask your advice and assistance."
•' What can I do for you, my dear baron ? "
" My lord, in the ordinary course of things I should be heir
to my nephew's estate of Thornhaugh. But being uncertain
as to how far succession to real property in England would
be permitted to an alien, my nephew made me his legatee by
will. Unfortunately, it appears that in this country a con-
viction for felony involves escheatment of all the felon's
property to the crown."
"That is so, of course."
** May I ask if the forfeiture takes effect ipso facto, or whether
some procedure has to be set on foot to establish the claim of
the crown ? "
"The attorney-general would have to make a formal in-
quisition on the part of the crown."
" Could I learn whether that has been done ? "
" I could find out, I think."
" I should be extremely obliged to you."
The viscount rang for his clerk, wrote a note, and ordered
it to be delivered at once.
" Mr. Attorney-General happens to be at the Treasury," he
said, resuming his conversation with the baron, " so that we
may get his reply at once. Otherwise, there may be a little
delay."
a Ikent Squtre
43 »
th the Wray family,
! of squire Wray's
e fate that I have
note, and ordered
" Perhaps in the meantime, my lord, you will allow me to
point out to you some features of this case of my nephew's
which seem to have escaped notice. Did you happen to see
or hear anything of the details of the supposed crime ? "
"I read the news-sheets of the time. Why do you say
* supposed crime ' ? "
" Because, my lord, I am not only certain that my nephew
did not commit the crime for which he was executed, but I
am equally certain that no crime was committed at all. For
anything we know, the supposed victim may be alive and
well at the present moment — in fact, I believe he is."
" You amaze me."
" Your lordship will recollect that the evidence of murder
at all was purely inferential. The body was not forthcoming,
nor did any person swear to witnessing it put away, nor was
there the slightest direct evidence of a personal encounter
between the two men."
"I believe you are right, so far. But in that case, what
about the sudden disappearance of the missing man ? "
"That is very strange, without doubt. But a man ought
not to be hung merely because something strange happens—
which has been the case with my nephew."
" It looks rather like it, I confess."
"As to the missing man, many things might conceivably
have happened. But my own impression is that he was
kidnapped."
" Kidnapped ? "
" Yes. I have had inquiries made, and I find that a press-
gang was at work on the very spot, at the identical time."
" Good Lord ! but they could be traced, surely ? "
"I believe this gang belonged to the Mermaid, which
sailed immediately afterwards for the West Indies."
" That is most unfortunate She may be a couple of years
away, and heaven only know; Low to get at her. Really, this
is a shocking affair."
"Do I gather that your lordship agrees with me that a
doubt as to my nephew's guilt is possible?"
"Gad! I should say so— very grave doubt indeed. In
fact, from the little I heard of Mr. Gwynett personally, the
thing begins to seem monstrous."
The old PPntli^man hnurpH rrrqiralv
" I thank you for that expression of opinion, my lord. But
you embolden me to make a request."
" What is it, my dear sir ? "
1
n r- r f
f!
I •
t|i^
U t ■ f
i
f
1
i
i
i
43«
B fkcut Squire
" I beg your lordship to use your influence to prevent or
delay any proceedings for forfeiture against my nephew's estate,
until it is possible to ascertain whether or not the supposed
murder has actually been committed."
" Most certainly I will. In the meantime, I recommend
you to act under your nephew's will, and take possession.
There is a great deal in being in possession."
" I thank you for your good offices."
At this moment the clerk knocked, entered, and handed
Bolingbroke a letter. The viscount opened it and passed
it over to the baron. The paper contained the single word,
* Gavelkind.^
" I was an idiot to forget that," remarked the viscount.
" You may possibly not be aware, baron, that in several
parts of this country, and especially in Kent, we have a
peculiar Anglo-Saxon tenure of
One of its features is that no
attainder for felony
the bough, the son to the
hanged, but the son
"You relieve me
' gavelkind.'
follows on
As the local proverb says, 'the sire to
land called
escheatment
The father may
get
plough.'
goes on with his sowing and reaping
considerably," said the baron. " If I
ever knew of this tenure, I had certainly forgotten it."
" There is one risk occurs to me," remarked Bolingbroke.
" Who is your family lawyer over here ? "
" Mr. Peter Wrottesley, of Canterbury."
" You had better go to him and ask if the property has,
by any chance, been disgavelled by act of parliament. It
is exceedingly unlikely. But if so, forfeiture is still open. In
that case, rely on me to do my best."
The baron rose to take leave.
" You have laid me under great obligations, my lord, by
your kindly reception, and jHU more kindly assistance."
"You are very welcome. 1 am afraid we have made
a terrible blunder in this business. Shall you see mistress
Dorrington ? "
" Can you tell me where she is?"
** If not at Wray Cottage, I have no idea."
" I hear no one is there at present."
"The Wrays may know. But, unfortunately, they are in
America."
** In America ? "
" I believe so. There is a Virginian branch of the family,
and they are paying a long-promised visit."
This information seemed to surprise the baron a good deal.
inately, they are in
ranch of the family,
a 'Rent Squire 433
" What is their address in Virginia, my lord ? "
" There you have me. I recollect neither the people nor
the place At the moment I cannot think of anyone who
could tell you.
The baron looked very much disappointed. But after a
pause, he thanked the viscount again and took his leave
The evenmg of the same day he arrived at Mr. Wrottesley's
house m Canterbury, and sent in his name. The lawyer was
m his study, smoking and brewing a night-cap of port negus
when he was told of the visitor. or*' e .
•'Baron von Starhemberg ! " he muttered, in amazement.
"Show him m. '
The baron was ushe-ed into the room and received very
respectfully by the lawyer, who placed an easy-chair for his
guest, and invited him to remove his thick fur overcoat.
I am afraid I intrude upon your leisure somewhat late, sir "
said the visitor, with his strong German accent.
" ^Vu^ contrary, my dear sir, this is the best time to catch
me. When did you arrive in England ? "
'• Last night. I had some business in London this morning,
and came on thence by post."
'.' XT°" ""f ^^^^^ ^y ^^"er of last February, I presume ? "
u r?°j J ^^^ "°* ^^^""^ y°" ^^^ written to me "
God bless my soul ! Then I am afraid you have some
terrible news still to learn."
" If you mean my nephew's unfortunate fate, sir, I have
heard about it, and it is that which brings me here. There
are several matters respecting which the newspaper accounts
1 have seen gave no information, and I shall be extremely
obliged if you can enlighten me about them."
Anything m my power," replied the lawyer, thinking to
himself that the old gentleman bore the recent tragedy in the
family with remarkable fortitude.
a.llL° ^^^'J" ''''^'- "^y "ephew appears to have had no legal
assistance at any time between his arrest and his execution,
uo you happen to know how that occurred?"
frnrv, T * """'^ unfortunate mischance. He wrote to me
from gaol as soon as he was well enough to do so, but in the
s^mmZAT 5"V^K°''^"S ^"y'^^"g °^ ^'' ^"^^t' I '^-^d been
letS^S^in A ^'''}'^''^ o" father prolonged business. The
I^i%w!°7f ? "^^^'■^'^ ^'^^ PJ^^e to another, but never reached
...^ i«x .w laie. i returnea to London the night before the
the'rSr^ ""'J^'' '^' "^°^^ ^ff^i^ f«^ thi first ?i^e in
the small hours of the morning. I posted off to Maidstone
38
M
434
a Ikent Squire
M
as soon as I could hire a vehicle, but failed to reach the town
till an hour after everything was over."
" That accounts for it, of course," said the baron.
" It happened that I was delayed on the way by a remark-
able incident. You have doubtless heard of mistress Muriel
Dorrington, to v/hom your nephew was betrothed?"
" Certainly."
" And of his friend, Noel Wray— son of the old squire at
Wray Manor?"
" Yes."
"Well, sir, when I had got about half-way between Rochester
and Maidstone, I met a medical friend of mine belonging to
Chatham, who had a patient with him in his carriage. Judge
of my amazement when I found it was Noel Wray, unconscious
from concussion of the brain. My friend had found hirn
lying on the moor, with mistress Dorrington watching him."
" Mistress Dorrington ! "
" Herself. Noel had been flung from his horse m the dark
of the early morning, and had been lying insensible for more
than an hour. My friend and his coachman got him into the
carriage, and caught the two horses which Noel and mistress
Dorrington had been riding. But the young lady, as soon
as she found that Noel would receive proper attention at
Chatham, had insisted upon going on herself to Maidstone."
" To Maidstone ? to the execution ? "
" Yes. Of course, it was then long past eight o'clock, and
too late to serve any purpose." , ^ , ,
" But how came they to be there at all ? " asked the baron,
who seemed a good deal puzzled by these details.
" It is a curious story," went on the lawyer. " I heard it
all from Noel and his friend Coverdale afterwards. A good
fellow that Coverdale, I can assure you. He found Noel
out the next day, and took him off to his Yorkshire stud-farm ;
the old squire, you see, wouldn't own him. This is what
happened." .
The baron listened to the narrative with breathless attention,
and the lawyer saw that he was deeply moved at the disastrous
termination to the long journey from Dorrington Hall.
"That, however, was not the worst of it," continued the
lawyer. "The shock of the disappointment, and the know-
ledge that her lover's life was being ended while she sat
helpless within a few miles of him, seemed to have thrown
her mind off its balance. I drove on at once to Maidstone,
and learned there that she had come up with the bier on
to reach the town
the old squire at
eight o'clock, and
a ment Squire 435
which poor Ambrose's body was lying, as it was being removed
from the gaol. She was quite distraught, the folks said, and
was persuaded that Ambrc-e was only sleeping."
The baron's hands began to tremble at this recital, and he
gulped somethmg down his throat spasmodically.
"Go on, sir, I beg," he said hoarsely, in a voice which
sounded strangely to his listener.
"Really," thought the lawyer, "the old gentleman has a
good heart, after all. It struck me at first he took the affair
mfernally coolly." Then he went on aloud,
"The body, sir, as you may have heard, had been ordered
to be hung m chams at a place outside Deal, and it was an
hour on its way there when I reached Maidstone. They told
me mistress Dorrington had been last seen -companying the
bier at the outskirts of the town. I could not learn any more
of her, so went on to the cross-roads near Deal. I got there
long after dark, and found the gibbet erected, the dead body
suspended from it, and poor r ress Dorrington lying on
the ground underneath it, unconscious, and to all appearance
The baron's hand went to his heart with a convulsive clutch
and his eyes dilated as he gazed fixedly at the speaker.
" There wasn't a soul withm a mile," went on the lawyer
not a little gratified at the impression produced by his narrative'
but after some trouble I and the driver managed to get
the poor young lady, still insensible, into my post-chaise, and
we drove on to Wray Cottage. When we got there, it was
only to find both the Cottage and the Manor shut up There
was nothing for it but to bring her to this house, which we
reached the next day."
!! ou^ ^^^^ ** " ^^^^^ the baron, in strangled tones.
bhe was daft, sir— clean daft," replied the lawyer, with
a tremor m his own voice, "and the Lord only knows whether
she 11 ever have her wits again."
" And where is she now ? "
"A couple of weeks afterwards her aunt came down in
consequence of a letter of mine, and took her away. That's
the last I saw of the poor young lady. It was the sorest
job 1 ever had in hand, I assure you, and I've never been
the same man since."
The baron heard nothing of the last sentpncf», for his h-'H
was buried in his hands, and he was sobbing' convulsiveFy!
rhe lawyer looked at him with much sympathy, and blew
his nose vigorously, ^ ^ '
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436
B "Rent Squire
« Damme ! " he remarked to himself, " I did the old gentle-
man injustice. He feels^ for the poor girl, I've no doubt,
almost as much as I do." , • .
He put his hand gently on the other s arm, and said,
« I can assure you, my dear sir, if you had only known
that young lady you would have taken her to your heart at
once She is worthy of any man in the world, and your
nephew was worthy of her. He was the finest young fellow
I ever met, and no more guilty of the crime he died for than
I or you— I'll be d d if he was ! "
The baron raised his head, and looked at his host intently.
Then he rose, stood erect before the amazed lawyer, and
held out his hand. ^ , , ,.
« Mr Wrottesley," he said, " I thank you from the bottom
of my heart for your goodness to Muriel, and for the words
you have this moment uttered."
At the >'oice, the lawyer's hair stood on end, and his eyes
seemed to start from their sockets. He pushed his chair back,
gasping, and looked as if he were going to have a fit.
''God ill heaven ! " he breathed, in a terrified whisper, you
are not — not -? "
"Yes— it is I."
" Ambrose Gwynett ! "
CHAPTER LII
WHICH EXPLAINS CERTAIN MATTERS
In the immensity of his surprise the lawyer gazed speechlessly
upon his visitor for several seconds, and allowed the hand
outstretched towards him to remain unshaken. Then he
jumped up, and grasped it with such fervid enthusiasm that
its owner began to think it would never be released.
« Gad ! my dear boy," he shouted hilariously, " I see it all.
A case of mistaken identity; they hung somebody else instead
of you, eh ? "
" Not at all, sir," replied Gwynett.
"The deuce! then how But stop! you'll join me in
a humnpr to celebrate this wonderful meeting?"
The lawyer rose to ring the bell, and Gwynett said warningly,
" For the baron von Starhemberg, my dear sir, recollect."
" Of course — of course."
a Ikent Squire 437
The materials f.. a further brew were duly forthcoming and
the lawyer, devoured by curiosity, locked the door, and sat
down opposite his visitor.
" Now, my dear boy, tell me all about it. But first of all,
where on earth did you get your mahogany skin and your
white hair ? "
" They come of several experiments in my uncle's laboratory."
" Ah ! so you have been there all the time, eh ? But let
us hear your story from the beginning."
" There is not much to tell, sir. I daresay you know that
I was desperately ill after my arrest, and had previously been
rather roughly handled ; so that, what with my injuries first
and the gaol-fever afterwards, I was in a fair way to cheat the
hangman in any case."
"So I learned the night of my return."
" I fancy I was off my head most of the time just previous
to the execution, and I recollect very little, except finding
rnyself assisted on to the gallows. But the moment I got
there I saw a face among the crowd that went through me
like a knife— the man who, for some devil's game of his
own, fixed the supposed crime at the ' Crown and Anchor '
upon me.
" I have heard nothing of all that. But go on."
"Within a moment of recognising the man I speak of, I
felt suddenly faint, and must have had a sort of cataleptic
seizure, for that is the last I recollect of the business. Of the
execution itself and the rest of the proceedings, you know
more than I do."
"This is amazing," said the lawyer. "And when did vou
come to yourself again ? "
" About midnight, I fancy. My first consciousness was of
being swung violently about, and the idea flashed through
my mmd that I was in the middle of being hung. A very
unpleasant idea it was, I can assure you." ° ^
" Good Lord ! " ejaculated the lawyer.
.n"'^!;''" i ^""""l', ^''^ °^ ^"' that I could breathe easily
enough, and secondly, that I was suffering excruciating agony
m every inch of my body-so much so that I yelled oSt at
the top of my voice. At the same time I opened my eyes
c 0.?^";^°'' f^K ' ^""^ \ '^^ ^ g'°"P °f ^°"^ ^e" standing
close to the gibbet, nearly frightened to death."
(jaa ! I don't wonder at that."
"When they had found their wits again they grasped the
position of affairs, got me down from the gibbet, and extricated
i „ '
■■ *
'1
r i '
■»:#
|i!<
4 "
11 r
^38
a mcnt Squire
me from the iron frame by means of some tools they happened
to have found close by. Then I learned that, thanks to these
men, I had had a double escape of the narrowest possible
cli3.r3.ctcr. "
Gwvnett narrated the stratagem by which the body-snatchers'
intended theft of his remains had been defeated, mention of
which has already been made in this history.
" It happened," he went on, " that I felt very much better
when I was rescued from the gibbet than I had felt for weeks
I fancy the change to the fresh sea-air after the pestilential
stenches of the gaol had a good deal to do with it. The
worthy smugglers— that is their occupation, strictly between
ourselves— primed me with some excellent liquor to start with,
and then took me in a pony-trap to their lugger at Sandwich.
There they gave me a salt-water bath, fed me like a fighting-
cock, and played the good Samaritans to admiration. I think
the pleasure of cheating both the hangman and the body-
snatchers was one they found quite delightful in its novelty.
"I'll never hear another word against smugglers as long
as I live," averred the lawyer. "And how long did you
stay there?" ,
"They were running over to France a couple ot aays
afterwards," preceded Gwynett, "and offered to take me
with them, as the safest thing for me. But some mixed-up
story they told me, of a young lady who encountered the party
with the bier in the streets of Maidstone, made me determine
at all hazards to find out if it was Muriel whom they had seen.
I need not tell you I had not heard a single word from anyone
while in gaol."
" I don't quite understand that."
" For one thing, my letter to you was the only one I was
able to write myself, and the gaolers could neither read nor
write. Nor did I know whether Muriel had rettirned to
Wray Cottage or not. The evening after my rescue I found
myself able to walk without much difficulty, so I got the
smugglers to drive me in their pony-trap within a mile of
the Cottage, and then walked on." _
" Of course, you found the place as we did— m charge of
the caretaker ? "
"No; the door was open, but there was nobody there.
I went in, and sat down fbr a few minutes to rest, feeling
rather done up. There was a sharp thunderstorm while I
was there, and I waited till it was over. Then I went away,
rejoined the trap at the entranc ^0 the wood, and was taken
Dols they happened
at, thanks to these
narrowest possible
the body-snatchers'
ifeated, mention of
Dry.
t very much better
had felt for weeks,
fter the pestilential
I do with it. The
n, strictly between
liquor to start with,
lugger at Sandwich,
me hke a fighting-
imiration. I think
lan and the body-
ul in its novelty."
smugglers as long
how long did you
a couple of days
iffered to take me
But some mixed-up
:ountered the party
Tiade me determine
bom they had seen.
; word from anyone
the only one I was
Id neither read nor
;1 had ret'irned to
my rescue I found
:ulty, so I got the
p within a mile of
i did — in charge of
was nobody there,
ites to rest, feeling
Linderstorm while I
Then I went away,
vood, and was taken
a Ikeut Squire 459
back to the lugger. The next morning they very kindly
went and fetched some of my clothes from the ' Crown and
Anchor where they had remained ever since the night when
that mfernal scoundrel raised the house on me."
"I should like to hear about that," said the lawyer "for I
rSed"^'^^""" "^^^^ ^^^'^ "°'" ^^" °^ ^^^ ^°'''P ^^""^ ^^^
frn^T"^^"!?/^?/'^'^' ? '^.P^^' *^^ incidents of his commission
from lady Melfort, the shots fired at Wray Cottage after the
lawyer had left Muriel and himself together, the rSeeting with
Dornngton, and the eventful night at the inn. The recital
filled the lawyer with amazement and boundless indignation.
1 never heard of such a trick in all my born days," he
fumed after exhaustmg all the execrations in his vocabulary,
But" o on^^^ ^^ ^°'^""^ *° '^^ ^^^ fellow swing for it.
"Unfortunately," proceeded Gwynett, "they brought me
Dornngton s overcoat from the inn instead of my own cloak,
mis ed by the fact of my having worn it that night. Thev^
T^L Tu^\ ?' ?"' ^"^ ^""°"^« °^ "^y ^1°'-^^, which is
a pity. The letter I was entrusted with must have been of
some consequence and it was stowed away in a little pocket
of^the cloak which I used for such purposes"
Let that flea stick in the wall," remarked the lawyer
philosophically. "It seems to me you may thank that iX
wL. '"^/1" ^"^ ^^^^' ^"^ getting you into all the trouble,
vvnat next about your smuggling friends ? "
"They sailed for the Somme the following day, and the
good fellows made me pocket ten pounds to ftart me in ife
oHust ce T\ S' '"""^' \ ^^^ ^^^" ^°bb^d in the iourse
Anrhnr ' T. ^" '^' T""^ ^ ^^^ ^ad at the ' Crown and
hnnS .K ^PP^Y'u ^^^^ °"^ °'' ^h^ brothers is now the
S r^ltifuri'n.'' "' '' "^"^' '' ^^"^'^^^ '' ' -- ^- -
"Had you any notion what to do or where to go ?"
unrlf ^'T ^' T^ *^°,"Sht in the first instance of going to my
the s'to^v n? t? '°"^^ ^T"^ "P°" *° ^^^^P^ "^y v^^-^ion of
than D Lh T 'rPPT^ '^'''^^'- ^"^^^'^"g French better
li .u ' J P'^eferred to reach Munich by way of France
mther than by the Netherlands. I passed through Par's
Sl"S "Zf °^ '^' ^^y. Just after those deaths in ?he rovai
narrow /n ^^' were ^ good deal upset there, and I had 'so
Torcy that fSf ^/^^"'"S recognised one night by M. de
lorcy, that I left at dawn the next morning."
iftiffTfflrfyi
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440
a Ikent Squire
A portion of Gwynett'j narrative at this point referred to
the attack on the due d'O.^^ans' carriage, and his own share
in rescuing that gentleman from his assailants, together with
details of the remainder of his journey to Bavaria, in which
the reader would find nothing of interest.
"My uncle," he went on, "received me with open arms,
and recommended me to resume my life with him as if
nothing had happened. He argued that my rescue was so
utterly improbable, that if the circumstances of the trial and
execution transpired, everyone would take for granted it was
a mere coincidence of name, and consequently never dream
of suspecting my connection with the affair. On the other
hand, I pointed out to him that I had no private income apart
from my interest in Thornhaugh, and that if he did not claim
the property as my heir, it would be lost altogether. '[
" A very neat quandary," commented the lawyer, with pro-
fessional interest. "What did you decide?"
" Eventually we agreed to invent a supposititious cousin of
mine of the same name, executed for a political offence, who
would pass muster in Bavaria. But my uncle must claim
Thornhaugh, in order to pass the income from it over to me,
and this is partly the occasion of my visit."
" Then you propose to accept your own decease? "
" Is there any help for it ? "
" I am afraid not. Luckily, there is no forfeiture."
"So lord Bolingbroke supposed— I came from him this
morning. I had forgotten the gavelkind tenure, and went to
him to ask for a stay of inquisition."
"You need not trouble about that. But we shall want
papers from your uncle."
"I have brought a whole bundle from the electoral
di3.ncGllGriG»
"That is all right. But what on earth possessed you to
run the risk of coming over here in person, even with this
disguise of yours ? "
" It was chiefly to obtain news of Muriel, and I am terribly
disappointed by your account of matters. But I suppose
we can ascertain her present whereabouts?"
" I doubt it. The aunt came here like a legion of furies,
and I gathered from what she said that the old squire was,
if possible, a little more outrageous than herself— swore he'd
disinherit Noel, and the rest of it. As regards myself, the
first I heard was that he had changed his solicitor, and the
next that he had taken his niece out to Virginia. Of Noel
!•'.' M
a ftent Squire
441
But we shall want
"rom the electoral
I have heard nothing since Coverdale walked off with him,
and I don't know Coverdale's address."
" Who is the new Wray solicitor ? "
'They won't tell me. I sent all the estate papers and
book.-' to the Manor, and that ended matters. You may not
believe it, but I was so furious at the affair that I did not
even sen.-i in my bill. I confess I scarcely see where you
can begm your search— apart from the risk."
" There is no risk worth speaking of."
" Don't be so cock-sure. No man can keep up a part for
even Some day you will straighten your back and talk like
an Englishman, and it will be all up with you."
*^ Possibly. But I must run the risk, whatever it be."
I beg your pardon. You may run the risk, if you choose
But if you are detected, and hung over again, how is that to
benefit mistress Dorrington ? Even if you found her, to
approach her as a stranger would arouse inquiry, and 'any
inquiry would be dangerous."
" Can you suggest anything better ? "
"Certainly. Go back, and leave the matter in my hands
—1 will do whatever is possible, and I can do it quite
safely.' ^
" It is very good of you. I will, at all events, think over
your offer. Now as to the property? I suppose you can
proceed under my will, on behalf of my uncle ? "
" Yes. There is no occasion to perjure myself about youi
decease, as the gaol record is sufficient. I will look through
your uncle's papers, and see if they are complete. Then I
strongly recommend you to get out of England at once— it
IS no use running utterly needless risks."
" There is one other thing I had in view "
" What is that ? "
" To set on foot inquiries about Mr. Dorrington— especially
m connection with the Mermaid's press-gang."
^ "Of course. That, again, I can see to much better than
After some further chat on business matters, Gwynett
accepted the lawyer's offer of a bed, and a little later both
retired for the night.
The next morning the baron von Starhemberg's papers
were overhauled and found to he in nrdpr cq for as could
be decided at that stage of the proceedings. The rest of
me day was spent in a futile attempt to get news at Wray
Manor and the Cottage, after which lawyer and client drove
]^:
\m
i: t
•
if
i
i
n
1
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ii
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i
^
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44a
H Ikent Squire
to Dover, where they put up at a tavern till the following
morning.
After breakfast the next day they directed their steps to
the waterside to inquire about a passage to Calais. A boat
containing a passenger was just putting off to a schooner
which lay at anchor a little way out, her sails spread for an
impending departure. Gwynett thought he recognised two
of the Kermodes pulling the dinghy, and asked a fisherman
standing near what was the schooner's name.
"They call her the Jioyal Mary, your honour. She's
taking the duke of Marlborough to Antwerp— that's him in
the dinghy. He came here yesterday, but couldn't start for
the fog."
The dinghy reached the schooner, and the duke went on
board. The Jioyai Mary weighed anchor, and before long
was heading under a fresh breeze for the Dutch coast. About
an hour later Gwynett found a fisherman who was willing
to convey him across the Channel, and after a warm parting
with the lawyer he took his seat in the lugger, and started
on his passage to Calais. The Royal Mary was just sinking
below the horizon.
* * • ♦ *
Five days afterwards M, de lorcy was in his cabinet,
awaiting his usual summons from madame de Maintenon,
when his secretary Lavalaye entered with despatches from the
Low Countries and Vienna, where the French government
had confidential agents.
At a sign from de Torcy he proceeded to open them and
to intimate the contents to the marquis. After running iiis
eye through the despatch from Vienna, the secretary said,
" It appears that Zinzindorff has announced the emperor's
final determination to continue the war, and to ignore altogether
any arrangement that may be come to at Utrecht between
the other powers."
Zinzindorff was the imperial chancellor. The marquis
shrugged his shoulders, and asked, as he took the paper handed
to him by Lavalaye,
•* Does the letter from Utrecht confirm that ? "
Lavalaye opened the other despatch, glanced over it, and
read aloud,
"The duke of Marlborough arrived at Antwerp this
morning, quite unexpectedly and unattended."
"Nothing more?"
"That is all."
*V-«tt**^tMM
till the following
S 'Rent SqiUre 443
"And quite enough," said the marquis to himself "Evi-
dently these thmgs hang together. He has sold us, after all
It IS about time to spike that gun, I think."
He turned to Lavalaye, and asked,
" Where is that letter of the duke's ? "
OxfoTd?"''''^ ""^ ^°°^ ^'°"' ^""^^ Melfort's enclosure to lord
" Yes."
Lavalaye werit to a desk, brought out a letter, and handed
It to the marquis.
" That is it," said de Torcy. " Enclose it to M. Randolph
Domngton, at the address in London I gave you. Let it be
sent at once by a special messenger, and be sure to urge
every possible precaution. It is impossible to say how much
may depend on that scrawl reaching its destination safe and
"You think it is of importance, then, monsieur ? "
" I think it may alter history a little, my dear Rend."
at Antwerp this
%'Bnvoi
From a later portion of the records laid under contrihnHon
by the present chronicler, it would appear tharnT Torrv^^
prediction was somewhat notably ful^Ied-ahhough in a wL
in% ^Tu """"'"> ""''y ^^' f'°«^ expecting ^ ^ ""^^
per^llV^oT'this hi^^^^^ °'^" T"'^^ ^^^^^^"S '^' --"°"^
referencf ^' 'P^*"^ "^"^^ "°' ^^mit of further
It W.U suffice to him that in the course of his connection
'i i
444
a Ikcnt Squfre
(not a very willing one) with the desperate intrigues set on
foot after the establishment of the Hanoverian dynasty in
Britain, and the regency in France, he was involved in a
continuous series of adventures from which, on several
occasions, he barely escaped with his life.
It may, perhaps, be added, that to his share in certain of these
episodes the future of both the Guelph and Bourbon dynasties
was measurably indebted— and none the less because in the
affair of the Stuart rebellion of 17 15, and in certain strange
and terrible matters affecting the comtesse de Valincour, the
woman Latour, Sanson the executioner, and the mysterious
pbre Germont, his aid towards the safe-guarding of the state
and the doing of justice was of a kind that did not admit of
public avowal.
But although the bulk of the further records in question
prevents them being here placed before the reader, he may
reasonably expect to learn that, after much chequered fortune
and misfortune, the houses of Gwynett and Wray found
mistresses in the persons of Muriel and Avice, and that it
was many long years before the manor of Dorrington passed,
by the death of its venerable lord, to his son-in-law the squire
of Thornhaugh.
With this announcement the chronicler makes his bow,
and is gone.
re
sperate intrigues set on
Hanoverian dynasty in
he was involved in a
im which, on several
life.
share in certain of these
and Bourbon dynasties
the less because in the
and in certain strange
itesse de Valincour, the
er, and the mysterious
fe-guarding of the state
d that did not admit of
er records in question
re the reader, he may
uch chequered fortune
nett and Wray found
nd Avice, and that it
of Dorrington passed,
is son-in-law the squire
nicler makes his bow,