6ea. gc Tto( S, THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES THE STi Author ' LINNY L HOPLEY ",Tai of ' SUS£ evidence ALDERM AND COE the Brid the Toll Lawyer BOOK, Si he caii s " Is a ■will be to speal Examini SAVILE OF Geo] "The scenes i dialogue-. _ „ PERCY EFFINGHAM. " Valentine Vox," &c. " Percy Effingham is written witli the ease and humour for which Mr. Cockton was remarkable ; and numerous scenes prove the author to have been at home in the varieties and vicissitudes of Life." — Morning Advertiser. MILES TREMENHERE. By Annette Marie Maillard, Authoress of " Zinoea the Gipsy," " Compulsory Marriage." With Four Illustrations. '■ This novel has produced upon us even a more favoui'able impres- sion than did " Zingra the Gipsy." There is more vigorous writing, breadth of style, and iitility of purpose, than are to be met with in any of the novels lately publislied." — Standard. JANE SETON; or, The King's Advocate. By James Grant, Author of the " Romance of War." With Four Illustrations by John Gilbert. " This novel is in eveiy respect worthy of the talented pen by wliich it has been so admirably worked out." — John Bull. TH, SAN frks itial roH tout lar; the IRN- hen 1th, So ME ith ely By Henry Cockton, Author of <\ GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & CO., FARRINGDON STREET. NOVELS AND TALES OF SIE E. BULWEE LYTTON, BAET., M.P. STANDARD EDITION. Uniformly printed in Croron Octavo, Corrected and Revised throughout, with new Prefaces by the Author, and Frontispieces. LUCRETIA. Cloth, 4s. HAROLD ; The Last of the Saxon Kings. Cloth, 4s. LEILA ; OR, The Siege of Granada. Cloth, 2s. ZANONI. Cloth, 3s. Qd. •BEVEREUX. Cloth, 3s. 6f?. THE DISOWNED. Cloth, 3s. 6d. ERNEST MALTRAVERS. Cloth, 3s. Qd. ALICE. Cloth, 3s. Qd. NIGHT AND MORNING. Cloth, 4s. GODOLPHIN. Cloth, 3s. PILGRIMS OF THE RHINE. Cloth, 2s. M. THE LAST DAYS OF POMPEII. Cloth, 3s. 6d. THE LAST OF THE BARONS. Cloth, 5s. EUGENE ARAM. Cloth, 3s. 6d. PELHAM ; or. The Adventdres of a Gentleman. Cloth, 3s. 6f/. PAUL CLIFFORD. Cloth, 3s. 6^. RIENZI ; The Last of the Tribunes. Cloth, 3s. ed. THE CAXTONS wUl he ready shortly. MY NOVEL will complete the Series. WOEKS OE ME. W. HAEEISON AINSWOETH. LIBRARY EDITION. Uniformly printed in Bemy Octavo, Corrected Vy the Author, nith Illustrations by Qeorge Cruikshank, SiC. THE TOWER OF LONDON. Forty Plates, Cloth, 6s. WINDSOR CASTLE. Cloth, 5s. CRICHTON. Cloth, 5s. LANCASHIRE WITCHES. Cloth. JACK SHEPPARD. Cloth. OLD SAINT PAUL'S. Cloth. THE MISER'S DAUGHTER. Cloth. GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & CO., FARRINGDON STREET. THE STAR CHAMBER. VOL. I. THE STAR-CHAMBER: ^« Jistotical goiuancc. BY WILLIAM HARRISON AINSWORTH. AUTHOR OF " THE TOWER OF LONDON," ETC. I will make a Star-Chamber matter of it. Shakespeare— ilfo-?!/ Wives of Windsor. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. L LONDON: G. EOUTLEDGE & CO., FAEEINGDON STEEET. 1854. \_The Author of this Work reserves the right of translating it.1 INSCRIBST) TO M B So M O S T T K'o ■WITH MUCH ESTEEM. 1 4 1. r>807 CONTENTS OP THE FIRST VOLUME. •CHAPIEE PAGE I. THE THREE CRANES IN THE TINTRY ... 1 II. SIR GILES MOMPESSON AND HIS PARTNER . 13 ni. THE FRENCH ORDINARY 23 IV. A STAR-CHAMBER VICTIM 32 V. JOCELYN MOUNCHENSEY 39 VI. PROVOCATION 46 VII. LORD ROOS 53 VIII. OF LUPO VULP, CAPTAIN BLUDDER, CLEMENT lANYERE, AND SIR GILES'S OTHER MYR- MIDONS 59 IX. THE LETTERS-PATENT 6Q X. THE 'prentices AND THEIR LEADER ... 85 XL JOHN WOLFE 92 XII. THE ARREST AND THE RESCUE 100 XIII. HOW JOCELYN MOUNCHENSEY ENCOUNTERED A MASKED HORSEMAN ON STAMFORD HILL 113 \Ul CONTENTS. CHAPTER JAGE' XIV. THE MAY-QUEEN AND THE PURITAN's DAUGH- TER 127 XV. HUGH CALVELEY 141 XA'I. OF THE SIGN GIVEN BY THE PURITAN TO THE' ASSEMBLAGE 14G XVII. A RASH PROMISE 154 XVIII. HOW THE PROMISE WAS CANCELLED . . .161 XIX. Theobald's palace 169 XX. KING JAMES THE FIRST 187 XXI, CONSEQUENCES OF THE PURITAN's WARNING 201 XXII. WIFE AND MOTHER-IN-LAW 214 XXIIL THE TRESS OF HAIR 227 XXIV. THE FOUNTAIN COURT 241 XXV. SIR THOMAS LAlOi; -246 XXVI. THE FORGED CONFESSION 257 XXVII. THE puritan's PRISON 271 XXVIII. THE SECRET 277 XXIX. LUKE HATTON 284 THE STAE-CHAMBER. CHAPTER I. THE THREE CRANES IN THE VINTRY. Adjoining the Vintiy Wharf, and at the corner of a narrow lane communicating' with Thames Street, there stood, in the early part of the seventeenth cen- tmy, a tavern called the Three Cranes. This old and renowned place of entertainment had then been in existence more than two hundi-ed years, though under other designations. In the reign of Richard II., when it was first established, it Avas styled the Painted Tavern, from the circumstance of its outer walls being fancifully coloured and adorned wath Bacchanalian devices. But these decorations went out of fashion in time, and the tavern, somewhat changing its external features, though preserving all its internal comforts and accommodation, assumed the name of the Three Cro\\Tis, under which title it continued mitil the accession of Elizaljeth, when it became (l)y a slight VOL. I. B Ji THE STAR-CHAMBER. modification) the Three Cranes; and so remained in the days of her successor, and, indeed, long afterwards. Not that the last-adopted denomination had any reference, as milet, hose, and mantle were ever of the gayest and most fanciful hues, and of the richest stuff's; he wore a diamond brooch in his l^eaver, and sashes, tied lilce garters, round his thin legs, which were utterly destitute of calf. Preposterously large roses covered his shoes; his ruff was a " treble-quad- niple-dedallion;" his gloves richly embroidered; a large crimson satin purse hung from his girdle; and he was scented mtli pov\"ders and pulvilios. This A\'ithered coxcomb affected the mincing gait of a yomig man; and though rather an object of derision than admira- tion with the fair sex, persuaded himself they were all captivated by him. The vast sums he so unjustly acquired did not long remain in his possession, but were dispersed in ministering to his follies and de- pra\ity. Timorous he was by natvu'e, as we have said, but cruel and unrelentmg in proportion to his cowardice; c 2 •20 THE STAR-CHAMBER. and where an in jury could be securely inflicted, or a prostrate foe struck with impunity, he never hesitated for a moment. Sir Giles himself was scarcely so ma- lignant and implacable. A strongs contrast to this dastardly debauchee was oftered by the bolder villain. Sir Giles Mompesson was a very handsome man, ^ith a striking physio- gnomy, but dark and sinister in expression. His eyes were black, singularly piercing, and flashed Anth the fiercest fire when kindled by passion. A finely-formed aquiline nose gave a hawklike character to his face; his hair was coal-black (though he w^as no longer young), and hmig in long ringlets over his neck and shoulders. He wore the handsomely cut beard and moustache subsequently depicted in the portraits of Vandyke, wdiich suited the stern gravity of his countenance. Rich, though sober in his attire, he always affected a dark colour, being generally habited in a doublet of black quilted silk, Venetian hose, and a murrey-colom-ed velvet mantle. His conical hat was ornamented with a single black ostrich feather; and he carried a long rapier by his side, in the use of which he was singu- larly skilful, being one of Vincentio Saviolo's best pupils. Sir Giles was a little above the middle height, with a well-proportioned, athletic figure; and his strength and address were such, that there seemed good reason for his boast when he declared, as he often did, " that he feared no man living, in fau* fight, no, nor any two men." THE STAR-CHAMBER. 21 Sir Giles had none of the weaknesses of his partner. Temperate in his living-, he had never been knowTi to commit an excess at table; nor were the blandish- ments or lures of the fair sex ever successfully spread for him. If his arm was of ii-on, his heart seemed of adamant, utterly impenetrable by any gentle emotion. It was affirmed, and believed, that he had never shed a tear. His sole passion appeared to be the accumu- lation of wealth, unattended by the desire to spend it. He bestowed no gifts. He had no family, no kinsmen, whom he cared to acknowledge. He stood alone — a hard, grasping man: a bond-slave of Mammon. When it pleased him. Sir Giles Mompesson could play the courtier, and fawn and gloze like the rest. A consummate hypocrite, he easily assumed any part he might be called upon to enact; but the tone natural to him was one of insolent domination and bitter raillery. He sneered at all things, human and divine; and there was mockery in his laughter, as well as venom in his jests. His manner, however, was not without a certain cold and grave dignity; and he clothed himself, like his purposes, in inscrutable re- sei^ve, on occasions requiring it. So ominous was his presence, that many persons got out of his way, fear- ing to come in contact with him, or give him offence; and the broad walk at Paul's was sometimes cleared as he took his way along it, followed by his band of tipstaves. If this were the case with persons who had no im- 23 THE STAR-CHAMBER. mediate ground of apprehension from him, hov/ much terror his sombre figure must have inspired when pre- sented, as it was, to ]\Iadame Bonaventure, with the aspect of a merciless creditor, armed with fiill power to enforce his claims, and resolved not to abate a jot of them. THE STAR-CHAMBER. 23 CHAPTER III. THE FRENCH ORDINARY. The month allowed by the notice expired, and Ma- dame Bonaventm-e's day of reckoning arrived. No arrangement had been attempted in the interim, though abundant opportunities of doing so were atforded her, as Sir Francis Mitchell visited the Three Cranes almost daily. She appeared to treat the matter very lightlj'-, always putting it oif when mentioned ; and even towards the last seemed quite unconcerned, as if entertaining no fear of the result. Apparently, every- thing went on just as usvial, and no one would have supposed, from Madame Bonaventm-e's manner, that she was aware of the possibility of a mine being sprung beneath her feet. Perhaps she fancied she had coun- termined her opponents, and so felt secure. Her in- difference puzzled Sir Francis, who knew not whether to attribute it to insensibility or over-confidence. He was curious to see how she would conduct herself when the crisis came ; and for that pm-pose repaired to the tavern, about dinner-time, on the appointed day. The hostess received him very graciously; trifled i2 !• THE STAR-CHAMBER. and jested ^ith liini as was her custom, and looked all Llandisliments and smiles to liim and everybody else, as if nothiuf^ could possibly happen to disturb her serenity. Sir Francis was more perplexed than ever. AVitli the levity and heedlessness of a Frenchwoman, she must have forgotten all about the claim. What if he should venture to remind her of it? Better not. The application would come soon enouj^h. He was glad it devolved upon his partner, and not on himself, to proceed to extremities with so charming a person. He really could not do it. And yet all the while he chuckled internallv as he thouo'ht of the terrible dilemma in which she A\'ould be speedily caught, and how completely it would place her at his mercy. She must come to terms then. And Sir Francis rubbed his skinny hands gleefully at the thought. On her jiart, Madame Bonaventure guessed what was passing in his breast, and secretly enjoyed the idea of check- mating him. With a captivating smile she left him to attend to her numerous guests. And very numerous they were on that day. More so than usual. Sir Francis, who had brought a boat from Westminster, where he dwelt, experienced some difficulty in landing at the stairs, invested as they were Avith barges, wherries, and watermen, all of whom had evidently brought customers to the Three Cranes. Besides these, there were two or three gilded pinnaces lying off the wharf, Avitli oarsmen in rich liveriesj evidently belonging to persons of rank. The benches and Uttle tables in front of the tavern THE STAR-CHAMBER. 25 were occupied by foreign merchants and traders, dis- cussing their afi'airs over a stoup of Bordeaux. Others, similarly employed, sat at the open casements in the rooms above; each story projecting so much beyond the other that the old building, cro^A^led with its fan- ciful gables and heavy chimneys, looked top-heavy, and as if it would roll over into the Thames some day. Otliers, again, were seated over their wine in the plea- sant little chamber Ixiilt over the porch, which, ad- vancing considerably lje}'ond the door, afforded a delightful prospect, from its lantern-like windows, of the river, now sparkling with sunshine (it was a Ijright May-day), and covered with craft, extending on the one hand to Baynard's Castle^ and on the other to the most picturesque object to be found then, or since, in London — the ancient Bridge, with its towers, gate- ways, lofty superstructures, and narrow arches, through which the current dashed swiftly; and, of com'se, com- manding a complete view of the opposite bank, begin- ning with Saint Saviour's fine old church, Winchester House, the walks, gardens, and play-houses, and ending with the tine groves of timber skirting Lambeth Marshes. Others repaired to the smooth and well- kept bowling alley in the narrow coiu-t at the back of the house, where there was a mulberry tree two cen- turies older than the tavern itself^ — to recreate them- selves with the healthful pastime there afforded, and indulge at the same time in a few whiffs of tobaccO;, which, notwithstanding the king's fulminations against it, had'abead}' made its way among the people. 2G THE STAR-CHAMBER. The ordiniiry was held in the principal room in the house; which Avas well enou^-h adapted for the pur- pose, being lofty and spacious, and lighted by an oriel window at the upper end. Over the high carved ohimney-piece were the arms of the Vintners' Com- pany, sable, a chevron cetu, three tmis argent, with a, Bacchus for a crest. The ceiling was moulded, and the wainscots of oak; against the latter several paintings were hung. One of these represented the Massacre of St. Bartholomew, and another the triumphal entry of Henri IV. into rebelHous Paris. Besides these, there were portraits of the reigning monarch, James the Fhst; the Marcpiis of Buckingham, his favom-ite; and the youthful Louis XIII., king of France. A long table generally ran down the centre of the room; but on this occasion there was a raised cross-table at the upper end, mth a traverse, or cm-- tain, partially drawn before it, proclaiming the pre- sence of important guests. Here the naperj^ was finer, and the di'inking-vessels handsomer, than those used at the lower board. A grand banquet seemed taking place. Long-necked flasks were placed in coolers, and the butfets were covered with flagons and glasses. The table groaned beneath the number and variety of dishes set upon it. In addition to the customary yeomen-waiters, there were a host of serving-men in rich and varied liveries, but these attended exclusively on their lords at the raised table, behind the traverse. As Sir Francis was iishered into the eating-room, he was quite taken aback by the unusually magnificent THE STAR-CHAMBEK,. 27 display, and felt greatly sui'prised that no hint of the banquet had been given him, on his arrival, by the hostess. The feast had already commenced; and all the yeomen-waiters and trencher-scrapers were too busily occupied to attend to him, Cjrprien, who mar- shalled the dishes at the lower table, did not deign to notice him, and was deaf to his demand for a place. It seemed probable he would not obtain one at all; and he was about to retire, much disconcerted, when a young man, somewhat plainly habited, and who seemed a stranger to all present, very good-naturedly made room for him. In this way he was squeezed in. Sir Francis then cast a look round to ascertam who were present; but he was so inconvenientl}^ situated, and the crowd of sei"ving-men was so great at the upper table, that he could only imperfectly distinguish those seated at it; besides which, most of the guests were hidden b}^ the traverse. Such, however, as he could make out Avere richly attired in doublets of silk iand satin, while their rich velvet mantles, plumed and jewelled caps, and long rapiers, were carried hy their servants. Two or three turned round to look at him as he sat dov.ii; and amongst these he remarked Sir Edward Villiers, whose presence was far from agreeable to him — for though Sir Edward was secretly connected with him and Sir Giles, and took tithe of their spoliations, he disowned them in public, and woidd assuredly not countenance any open display of their rapacious pro- ceedings. 28 THE STAR-CHAMBER. Another persona<]^e whom he recognised, from his obesity, the pecuharity of his long flowing periwig, and his black velvet Parisian i)om'point, which con- trasted forcibly with the glittering habiliments of his companions, was Doctor Mayerne-Turquet, the cele- brated French professor of medicine, then so high in favom- with James, that, ha\'ing been loaded with honom's and dignities, he had been recently named the King's first physician. Doctor Mayerne's abilities were so distinguished, that his Protestant faith alone prevented him from occupying the same eminent po- sition in the court of France that he did in that of England. The doctor's presence at the banquet was unpropitious; it was natural he should befriend a coimtrj^Avoman and a Huguenot like himself, and l^ossessing the royal ear, he might make such repre- sentations as he pleased to the King of what should occm\ Sir Francis hoped he would be gone before Sir Giles appeared. But there was yet a third person, who gave the usurious knight more uneasiness than the other two. This was a handsome young man, with fair hair and delicate features, whose slight elegant figure was arrayed in a crimson satin doublet, slashed with white, and hose of the same colours and fabric. The yoimg nobleman in question, whose handsome features and prematurely- wasted frame bore the impress of cynicism and debauchen', was Lord Roos, then recently en- trapped into marriage with the daughter of Sir Thomas Lake, Secretary of State: a marriage pro- THE STAR-CHAMBER. 29 ductlve of the usual consequences of such imprudent arrangements — neglect on the one side, unhappiness on the other. Lord Roos was Sir Francis's sworn enemy. Like many other such gay moths, he had been severely singed by fluttering into the dazzling lights held up to him, when he wanted money, by the two usurers; and he had often vowed revenge against them for the manner in which they had fleeced him. Sir Francis did not usually give any great heed to his threats, being too much accustomed to reproaches and menaces from his victims to feel alarm or compunction; but just now the case was different, and he coidd not help fearing the vindictive young lord might seize the opportunity of serving him an ill turn — if, indeed, he had not come there expressly for the purpose, which seemed probable, from the fierce and disdainfid glances he cast at him. An angry murmur pervaded the upper table on Sir Francis's appearance; and something was said which, though he could not gather its precise import, did not sound agreeably to his ears. He felt he had unmt- tingly brought his head near a hornet's nest, and might esteem himself lucky if he escaped without stinging. However, there Avas no retreating now; for though his fear counselled flight, very shame restrained him. The repast was varied and abundant, consisting of all kinds of fricassees, collops and rashers, boiled salmon from the Thames, trout and pike from the same river, boiled pea-chickens and turkey-poidts, 30 THE STAR-CHAMBER. and florentines of puft' paste, calves-foot pies, and set custards. Between each <:^uest a boiled salad was })laced, Avhich was nothing more than what we should term a dish of veo^etables, except that the veg-etables Avere somewhat dilierently prepared; cinnamon, ginger, and sugar being added to the pulped carrots, besides a handful of currants, vinegar, and butter. A similar plan was adopted wdth the salads of burrage, chicory, marigold leaves, bugloss, asparagus, rocket, and alex- anders, and many other plants discontinued in modern cookery, but then much esteemed; oil and vinegar being used Avith some, and spices wdth all; Mdiile each dish was jjarnished AAath slices of hard-boiled esss. A jowl of sturgeon was carried to the upper table, where there was also a baked swan, and a roasted bustard, flanked by two stately venison pasties. This was only the first service; and two others followed, consisting of a fa^ATi, with a pudding inside it, a grand salad, hot olive pies, baked neat's tongues, fried calves' tongues, baked Italian puddings, a farced leg of lamb in the French fashion, orangeado pie, buttered crabs, ancho- vies, and a plentiful supply of little made dishes, and quelqnechoses, scattered over the table. With such a profusion of good things, it may appear surprising that Sir Francis should find very little to eat; but the attendants all seemed in league against hmi, and whenever he set his eye upon a dish, it was sure to be placed out of reach. Sir Francis was a great epicure, and the Thames salmon looked delicious; but he wovild have failed in obtaining a slice of it, if his neighbom* THE STAR-CHAMBER. 31 (the young man who had made room for him) had not given him the well-filled trencher intended for himself. In the same way he secm'ed the wing of a boiled capon, larded with preserved lemons, the sauce of Avhich was exquisite, as he well knew from experience. Cy]:)rien, however, took care he should get none of the turkey-poults, or the florentines, Lut whipped off both dishes from under his very nose; and a like fate would have attended a lumbar pie but for the interference of his good-natured neighbour, who again came to his aid, and rescued it from the clutches of the saucy Gascon, just as it was being borne away. 3.2 THE STAR-cii a:\ibeii. CHAPTER IV. A STAll-Cll AMBER VICTIM. His hunger being* somewhat stayed, Sir Francis now found leisure to consider the young man who had so greatly befriended him, and, as a means of promoting conversation between them, began by filling his glass from a flask of excellent Bordeaux, of which, in spite of C}^]prien's efforts to prevent him, he had contrived to gain possession. The young man acknowledged his com'tesy ^\'ith a smile, praised the Avine, and expressed his astonishment at the wonderful variet}^ and excel- lence of the repast, for Avhich he said he was quite unprepared. It was not Sir Francis's way to feel or express much interest in strangers, and he disliked young men, especially Avhen they were handsome, as was the case with his new acquaintance; but there was something in the youth that riveted his attention. From the plainness of his attire, and a certain not unpleasing rusticity of air. Sir Francis comprehended at once that he was fresh from the country; but he also felt satisfied, from his bearing and deportment, that he was a gentleman: a term not quite so vaguely THE STAR-CHAMBER. 33 applied then, as it is now-a-days. The youth had a fine frank countenance, remarkable for manly beauty and intelligence, and a figure perfectly proportioned and athletic. Sir Francis set him down as well skilled in all exercises; vaulting, leaping, riding, and tossing the pike; nor was he mistaken. He also concluded him to be fond of country sports; and he was right in the supposition. He further imagined the young man had come to toA\ai to better his fortune, and seek a place at covirt; and he was not far wrong in the notion. As the wily knight scanned the handsome features of his companion, his clean-made limbs, and symmetrical figure, he thought that success must infallibly attend the production of such a fair youth at a court where personal advantages were the first consideration. "A likely gallant,^' he reflected, "to take the fancy of the King; and if I aid him with means to purchase rich attire, and procure him a presentation, he may not prove ungratefid. But of that I shall take good security. I know what gratitude is. He must be in- troduced to my Lady Suffolk. She will know how to treat him. In the first place, he must cast his countiy slouss-h. That ill-made doublet of "reen cloth must be exchanged for one of velvet slashed in the Venetian style, like mine own, with hose stuffed and bombasted aecordins: to the mode. A silk stockins^ Avill brin"- out the nice proportions of his leg; though, as I am a true gentleman, the youth has so well formed a limb that even his own villanous yarn coverings cainiot disfigure it. His hair is of a good brown colour, which the King VOL. I. D 34 THE ^TAR-CHAMBER. affects much; and seems to cm*! naturally; but it wants trimming to the mode, for he is rough as a young colt fresh from pasture ; and though he hath not much beard on his chin or upper lip, yet what he hath l^ecomes him well, and Avill become him better, when properly clipped and twisted. Altogether he is as goodly a j^onth as one would desire to see. What if he should supplant Buckingham, as Buckingham sup- planted Somerset? Let the proud Marquis look to himself ! We may work his overthrow yet. And now to question him.^' After replenishing his glass, Sir Francis addressed himself in his blandest accents, and with his most insidious manner, to his youthful neighbour: — " For a stranger to town, as I conclude you to be, young sir," he said, " you have made rather a lucky hit in coming hither to-day, since you have not only got a better dinner than I (a constant frequenter of this French ordinary) ever saw served here — (though the attendance is abominable, as you must have remarked — that rascally Cyprien deserves the bastinado); but your civility and good manners have introduced you to one M^ho may, without presumption, affirm that he hath the will, and, it may be, the ability to serve you; if you wall only point out to him the way." "Nay, w-orthy sir, you are too kind," the young man modestly replied; " I have done nothing to merit your good opinion, though I am happy to have gained it, I rejoice that accident has so far befriended me as to bring me here on this festive occasion; and I rejoice THE STAR-CHAMBER. 35 yet more tliat it has brought me acquainted ^Nith a worthy gentleman lilce yourself, to whom my rustic manners prove not to l)e displeiasing'. I have too few- friends to neglect any that chance may offer; and as I must carve my own way in the world, and fight for a position in it, I gladly accept any hand that may ];e stretched ovit to help me in the struggle." " .Tvist as I would have it/' Sir Francis thought; *' the vei^y man I took him for. — As I am a true gen- tleman, mine shall not be wanting, my good youth,'* he added aloud, with apparent cordiality, and. affecting to regard the other with great interest; " and when I learn the particular direction in which you intend to shape your course, I shall be the better able to advise and guide you. There are many ways to fortmie." " Mine should be the shortest if I had any choice," the young man rejoined, with a smile. " Right, quite right," the crafty knight returned. " All men would take that road if they could find it. But with some the shortest road wovdd not be the safest. In your case I think it might be difi'erent. You have a sufficiently good mien, and a sufficiently good figure, to serve you in lieu of other advantages." " Your fair speech would put me in conceit with myself, worthy sir," the young man rejoined, with a well-pleased air, " were I not too conscious of my owai demerits, not to impute what you say of me to good- nature, or to flattery." " There you wrong me, my good young friend — on my credit, you do. Were I to resort to adulation, I 11 '^ 36 THE STAll-CIIAMBER. must strain tlie jioints of compliment to find phrases' that could come up to my opinion of your good looks; and as to m}- friendly disposition towards yon, I have abeady said that your attentions haye Nvon it, so that mere g-ood-nature does not prompt my words. I speak of you as I think. May I, Avithout appearing toO' inquisitiye, ask from what part of the country you come?" . ^' I am from Norfolk, worthy sir/^ the young man answered, " where my life has been spent among- a set of men wild and uncouth, and fond of the chase as the Sherwood archers we read of in the ballads. I am the son of a broken gentleman; the lord of a mined house; with one old sei-\'ant left me out of fifty kept by my father, and with scarce a hundred acres that I can still call my o^\■n, out of the thousands swept away from me. Still I hunt in my father's woods; kill my father^s deer; and fish in my father's lakes; since no one molests me. And I keej) up the little church near the old tumble-doM-n hall, in '\\hich are the tombs of my ancestors, and where my father lies buried; and the tenantiy come there yet on Sundays, though I am no longer their master; and my father's old chaplain, Sir Oliyer, still preaches there, though my father's son can no longer maintain him." '^A sad change, trid}-," Sir Francis said, in a tone of sympathy, and with a look of well-feigned concern, " and attributa]:)le, I much fear, to riot and profusion on the part of your father, who so l^eggared his son.'^ " Not so, sii-," the young man grayely replied; THE STAR-CHAMBER. 37 " my father was a most honoural^le man, and would have injured no one, much less the son on whom he doted. Xeither was he profuse; but lived bountifidly and wqW, as a country gentleman, ^^'ith a large estate, should live. The cause of his ruin was, that he came within the clutches of that devouring monster, which, like the insatiate dragon of Rhodes, has swallowed up the substance of so many families that our land is threatened u-ith desolation. My father \\-as ruined by that court, which, with a mockery of justice, robs men of their name, their fame, their lands, and goods; which perverts the course of law, and saps the prin- ciples of equity; which favours the knave, and oppresses the honest man; which promotes and supports extor- tion and plunder; ^vhich reverses righteous judgments, and asserts its own unrighteous supremacy; M'hich, by means of its commissioners, spreads its hundred arms over the whole realm, to pillage and destroy — so that no one, however distant, can keep out of its reach, or escape its supervision; and which, if it be not uprooted, will, in the end, overthrow the kingdom. Need I say xcij father was ruined by the Star-Chamljer?" " Hush ! hush ! my good young sir," Sir Francis cried, having vainly endeavoured to interrupt his com- panion's angry denunciation. " Pray heaven your words have reached no other ears than mine! To speak of the Star-Chamber as you have spoken is Avorse than treason. Many a man has lost his ears, and been branded on the brow, for half you have uttered." " Is free speech denied in this free country?" the 38 THE STAK-Cll AMBER. young' man cried, in astonishment. " Mnst one suffer grievous wrong-, and not complain ?" " Cei-tes, you must not contemn the Star-Chamber, or you will incur its censure/' Sir Francis replied, in a low tone. " No court in England is so jealous of its prerogatives, nor so severe in punishment of its ma^ lig-ners. It will not have its proceedings canvassed, or its judgments questioned." " For the plain reason, that it knows they will not hear investigation or discussion. Such is the j)ractice of all arbitrary and despotic rule. But will English- men submit to such tyranny?" " Again, let me counsel you to put a In-idle on your tongue, young sir. Such matters are not to be talked of at public tables — scarcely in private. It is well you have addressed yourself to one who will not betray you. The Star-Chamber hath its spies everywhere. Meddle not with it, as you value liberty. Light pro- vocation arouses its anger; and once aroused, its wrath is all-consuming." THE STAR-CHAMBER. 39 CHAPTER V. JOCELYX MOUNCHENSEY. Notwithstanding the risk incurred, the young man, whose feelings were evidently deeply interested, seemed disposed to pm'sue the dangerous theme; but perceiv- ing one of their opposite neighbours glancing at them. Sir Francis checked him; and filling his glass, essayed to change the conversation, by inquiring how long he had been in towni, and where he lodged. " I only arrived in London yesterday," was the reply, " yet I have been here long enough to make me loath to return to the woods and moors of Norfolk. As to my lodging, it is without the city walls, near St. Botolph's Chm'ch, and within a bow-shot of Aldgate : a pleasant situation enough, looking towards the Spital Fields and the open country. I would fain have got me others in the Strand, or near Charing Cross, if my scanty means would have allowed me. Chance, as I have said, brought me here to-day. Strolling forth early to view the sights of town, I crossed London Bridge, the magnificence of which amazed me; and, proceeding along the Bankside, 40 THE STAR-CllA.MBEK. entered Paris Garden, of wliicli I liad heard much, and ^\•here I was greatly pleased, both with the mastiffs kept there, and the formidable animals they have to encounter; and methought I should like to bait mine enemies with those savage dogs, instead of the bear. Retm-ning to the opposite shore in a Avherry, the waterman landed me at this wharf!, and so highly commended the Tliree Cranes, as affording the best French ordinary and the best French wine in London, that seeing many gentlefolk flocking towards it, which seemed to confirm his statement, I came in with them, and have reason to be satisfied with my entertainment, never having dined so sumptuously before, and, certes, never having tasted wine so delicious." " Let me fill your glass again. As I am a time gentleman, it will not hm-t you; a singular merit of pm-e Bordeaux being that you may drink it with impvmit}'; and the like cannot be said of yom- sophis- ticated sack. We will crush another flask. Ho ! drawer — C^^irien, I say ! More wine — and of the best Bordeaux. The best, I say." And, for a Avonder, the order was obeyed, and the flask set before him. " You have been at the Bankside you say, young sir*? On my credit, 3'ou must cross the river again and visit the theatres — the Globe or the Rose. Our great actor, Dick Burbadge, plays Othello to-day, and, I warrant me, he \^'iU delight you. A little man is Dick, but he hath a mighty soul. There is none other like him, whether it be Nat Field or Ned Allej'n. THE STAR-CHAMBEll. 41 Oiu" famous Shakespeare is fortunate^ I trow^ in having; him to play his great characters. You must see Biu-- hadge^ hkewise, in the mad Prince of Denmark^ — the part was written for him^ and fits him exactly. See him also in gentle and love-sick Romeo^ in tyrannous and murderous Macbeth, and in crookljack Richard; in all of which, though diti'erent, our Dick is equally good. He hath some other parts of almost equal merit J — as iMalevole, in the ' jNIalcontent;' Frankford, in the 'AVoman Killed with Kindness;' Brachiano, in Webster's ' White Devil ;' and Vendice, in Cyril Tom-nour's ' Revenger's Tragedy.' " " I know not what may be the nature of that last- named play," the young man rather sternly remarked, " but if the character of Vendice at all bears out its name, it would suit me. I am an avenger." " Forbear your Avi'ongs awhile, I pray you, and drown your resentment in a cup of wine. As I am a true gentleman ! a better bottle than the first ! Nay, taste it. On my credit, it is perfect nectar. I pledge you in a brimmer; ^\^shing Success may attend you, and Confusion await your Enemies ! May you speedily regain your rights !" " I drmk that toast most heartil}^, worthy sir," the yomig man exclaimed, raising his beaded flagon on high. " Confusion to my Enemies — Restoration to my Rights !" And he drained the goblet to its last drop. " By this time he must be in a fit mood for my purpose," Sir Francis thought, as he watched him 3 THE STAR-CPIAMBER. tnl narrowly. " Ilarkye, my f^ood yoiing friend/' he said, lowering his tone, " I would not he overheard in what I have to say. Yon were speaking just now of the shortest way to fortune. I x^iW point it out to you. T(^ him who is bold enough to take it, and who hath the requisites for the ventm-e, the shortest way is to be found at com-t. Where think you most of those gallants, of whom }'0u nia}^ catch a glimpse through the traverse, derive their revenues ! — As I am a true gentleman ! — from the royal coffers. I\ ot many years ago A\'ith all of them — not many months ago with some — those brilliant and titled coxcombs were adven- turers lilvC yourself, having barely a Jacobus in their pm-ses, and scarce credit for board and lodging with theii' respective landladies. Now you see how nobly they feast, and how richly they bedeck themselves. On my credit ! the like good fortune may attend you; and haply, v\ hen I dine at an ordinary a year hence, I may perceive you at the upper table, A\ith a curtain before }"ou to keep off the meaner company, and your sen^ing-man at your back, holding your velvet mantle and cap, lilce the best of yom- fellow-nobles." " Heaven grant it may be so !" the young man exclaimed, ^^ith a sigh. " You hold a dazzhng pictm-e before me; but I have little expectation of realizing it." " It wiU be your owTi fault if you do not," the tempter rejoined. " You are equally well-favoured with the handsomest of them; and it was by good looks alone that the whole party rose to their present THE STAH-CHAMBEK. 43 eminence. Why not pm-sue the same course^ Math the same certainty of success ? You have courage enough to undertake it, I presume?" " If courage alone were wanting, I have that," the young man repKed; — " Lut I am wholly unknov.Ti in town. How then shall I accomplish an introduc- tion at court, when I know not even its humblest attendant ?" " I have already said you were lucky in meeting with me," Sir Francis replied, " and I find you were luckier than I supposed, Avhen I told you so; for I knew not then towards what bent yom- desires tended, nor in Avhat way I coidd help you; but now, finding out the boldness of yom* flight, and the high game you aim at, I am able to offer you effectual assistance, and give you an earnest of a prosperous issue. Through my means you shall be presented to the King, and in such sort that the presentation shall not be idly made. It will rest then mth yourself to play your cards dex- terously, and to follow up a winning game. Dou.bt- less, you will have many adversaries, who will trip up yoiu- heels if they can, and throw every obstacle in your way; but if you possess the strong arm I fancy you do, and daring to second it, you have nothing to fear. As I am a true gentleman ! you shall have good coimsel, and a friend in secret to back you." " To whom am I indebted for this most gracious and unlooked-for offer?" the young man asked, his breast heaving and his eye flashing with excitement. 44 THE STAR-CHAMBER. " To one you may perchance have heard of'/' the knig-ht answered, " as the subject of some misrepre- sentation; how justly applied, you yourself will be able to determine from my present conduct. I am Sir Francis Mitchell." At the mention of this name the }'oung- man started; and a deep angry flush overspread his face and brow. Perceiving the effect produced, the wily knight hastened to remove it. " My name, I see, awakens unpleasant associations in your breast," he said, " and 3'our look shows you have been influenced by the calumnies of my enemies. I do not blame you. Men can only be judged of by report; and those I have had dealings with have reported ill enough of me. But they have spoken falsely. I have done no more than any other person woidd do. I have obtained the best interest I could for my monc}'; and my losses have been almost equal to my gains. Folks are ready enough to tell aU they can against you; but slow to mention aught they con- ceive to be in your favour. They stigmatize me as a usurer; but they forget to add, I am ever the friend of those in need. They use me, and abuse me. That is the way of the world. Wherefore, then, shoidd I complain? I am no worse off than my neighbom's. And the proof that I can l>e disinterested is the way in which I have acted towards you, a perfect stranger, and who have no other recommendation to my good offices than y.om* gracious mien and gentle manners." THE STAll-CH AMBER. 4.T "1 cannot accept your proffered aicl^ Sir Francis/' the young- man replied, in an altered tone, and with great sternness. "And you will understand why I cannot, when I annoxmce myself to you as Jocelpi Mounchensey." It was noAv the knight's turn to start, change colour, and tremhle. 40 THE STAR-CHAMBEll. CHAPTER VI. PROVOCATION. A JiOMENTAEY paiise ensued^ dm-ing' wliicli Moun- chensey regarded the knight so fiercely, that the latter began to entertain apprehensions for his personal safety, and meditated a precipitate retreat. Yet he did not dare to move, lest the action should hring upon him the hurt he wished to avoid. Thus he remained, like a bird fascinated by the rattlesnake, until the young man, whose power of speech seemed taken from liim by passion, went on, in a tone of deep and concentrated rage, that communicated a hissing sound to his w^ords. " Yes, I am Jocelyn Mounchensey," he said, " the son of him whom your arts and those of your partner in iniquity, Sir Giles Mompesson, brought to destruc- tion; the son of him whom 3^011 despoiled of a good name and large estates, and cast into a loathsome prison, to languish and to die; I am the son of that mm'dered man. I am he whom you have robbed of his inlieritance; whose proud escutcheon you have tarnished; whose family you have reduced to beggary and utter ruin." THE STAR-CHAMBER. 47 " But Sir Jocelyii, my worthy friend/' the knight faltered, " have patience,, I pray of you. If you con- sider yourself agg-rieved, I am mlling to make repara- tion — ample reparation. You know what were my intentions towards you, before I had the slightest notion who you. might be. (If I had but been aware of it, he thought, I would have taken care to keep at a respectful distance from him.) I will do more than I promised. I wall lend you any sums of money you may require; and on your personal security. Your bare word shall suffice. No bonds — no written obliga- tions of any kind. Does that sound like usmy ? As I am a true gentleman ! I am most unfairly judged. I am not the extortioner men describe me. You shall find me your friend," he added, in a low earnest tone. "1 will re-establish your fortime; give you a new title, higher and prouder than that which you have lost; and, if you will follow my counsel, you shall supplant the haughty favom'ite himself. You shall stand where Buckingham now stands. Hear reason, good Sir Jocelyn. Hear reason, I entreat you." "I will hear nothing farther," Jocelyn rejoined. (( "VVere you to talk till Doomsday, you could not alter my feelings towards 5 ou a jot. My chief errand in coming to London was to call you and Sir Giles Mom.pesson to strict account." " And we will answer any charges you may bring against us readily — most readily. Sir Jocelyn. All was done in faii'ness — according to law. The Star- Chamber will uphold us." 48 THE STAR-CHAMBER. "Tilt! }'oii tliinlc to terrify me with tliat bvi^'bcar; l)iit I am not so easily irio-htened. ^.Ve have met for the iirst time l)y chanec, Lut our next meetinjr shall be by appointment." "When and whei'e yon please, Sir Joeelyn/' the knig'lit replied ; " bxit recollect the dnello is forbidden, and, though I would not willingly disappoint you in your desire to cut my throat, I should be sorry to think you might be hanged for it afterwards. Come, Sir Jocelyn, lay aside this idle passion, and look to your tnie interests, which lie, not in quarrelling with me, Ijut in our reconciliation, I can help you effec- tuall}', as I have shown ; and, as I am a true gentle- man, I wUl help }'ou. Give me yom- hand, and let us be friends !" " Never !" Jocel\ai exclaimed, withcbawing from him, ^' never shall the hand of a Mounchensey grasp yours in friendship ! I would sooner mine rotted off' ! I am your mortal foe. My father's death has to be avenged." " Provoke him not, my good young sir," interposed an elderly man, next him, in a long furred gowTi, with hanging sleeves, and a flat cap on his head, who had heard ^^■hat A\'as no\\' passmg. "You know not the mischief he may do you." "I laugh at his malice, and defy him," Jocelyn cried; " he shall not sit one moment longer beside me. Out, Icnave ! out !" he added, seizing Sir Francis by the wing of his doublet, and forcibly thrusting him from his seat. " You are not fit company for honest THE STxVR-CHAMBER. 49 men. Ho ! varlets^ to tlie door with him ! Throw him into the kenneh" " Yon shall rne this, villain ! — }'on shall rue it bit- terly," Su- Francis cried, shaking his clenched hands at him. "Your father perished like a dog- in the Fleet, and you shall perish there likewise. You have put yourself wholly in my power, and I will make a fearful example of }'ou. You have dared to utter scandalous and contemptuous lano-uage ap^amst the o-reat and high court of Star-Chamljer, before the de- crees of which all men bow; impugning its justice and denying its authority; and you shall feel the full weight of its displeasure. I call upon these worthy gentlemen to testify against you." " AVe have heard nothing, and can testify nothing," several voices cried. " But you, sir, \\\\o were next him, you must have heard him ?" Sir Francis said, addi'essing the elderly man in the furred go^^^l. " Not I !" rejoined the person appealed to; " I gave no heed to what was said." " But I did, Sir Francis," squeaked a little whey- faced man, in a large rutf and tight-laced yellow doublet, from the opposite side of the table ; " I heard him most audaciously vilipend the high court of Star- Chamber and its councils ; and I ^^^ll bear testimony against him when called upon." "Y'^our name, good sir, your name?" Sir Francis demanded, taking out his tablets. " Set me down as Thopas Trednock, tailor, at the VOL. I. E 50 THE STAll-CHAMBER. sig'n of the Pressino- Iron, in Coi'nhill/' the who)'- faced man replied, in his shrill tones, amid the derisive lauji'hter of the assemhlag-e. " Thopas Trednock, tailor — good !" the knight re- peated, as he wa'ote the name do^vn. " You \n\l he an excellent witness, Master Trednock. Fare you well for the present, Ma-'ifer Jocelyn Mounehensey, for I now mind well your father was degraded from the honour of knighthood. As I am a true gentleman ! you may be sure of committal to the Fleet." As may he supposed, the scuffle which had taken place attracted the attention of those in its immediate vicinity; and when the cause of it became known, as it presently did throughout both tables, great indig- nation was expressed against Sir Francis, who was censured on all hands, jeered and flouted, as he moved to the door. So great was the clamour, and so oppro- brious were the epithets and terms applied to him, that the knight was eager to make his escape ; but he met Cyprien in his way; and the droll young Gascon, liolding a dish-cover in one hand, by way of bucklei*, and a long carving-knife in the other, in place of a sword, opposed his egress. " Let me pass, knave," Sir Francis cried, in alarm. " By your leave, no," returned Cyprien, encouraged hy the laughter and plaudits of the company. " You have come hither xmin\dted, and must stay till you liave permission to depart. Having partaken of the hanquet, you must, perforce, tarry for the rerebanquet. The sweets and cates have yet to come, Sir Francis." THE STAR-CHAMBER. 51 " What moan you, sirrah ?" the knight demanded, in increased trepidation. *'Yom' presence is necessary at a little entertain- ment I have provided to follow the dinner, sweet Sir Francis," Madame Bonaventure cried, advancing to- wards him ; " and as you have a principal part in it, I can by no means spare you." "No one can spare you, sweet Sir Francis," several voices chimed in, derisively. " You must remain with us a Kttle longer." "But I will not stay. I will not be detained. There is some conspiracy a-foot against me. I will indict you all for it, if you hinder me in going forth," the knight vociferated, in accents of mingled rage and terror. " Stop me at your peril, thou saucy Gascon knave." " Comes (hi (Ilahlc! — no more a knave than yourself, (jros iiHvr'icf /" C}^:>rien cried. " Laissez-hd, Cyprien," Madame Bonaventure in- tei-posed; — "the courteous knight vnW. yield to my entreaties, and stay of his ovn\ free will." " I have business that calls me hence. I must go," Sir Francis said, endeavouring to push l)y them. "Let the door l^e closed," an authoritative voice cried from the head of the table. The order was instantly obeyed. Two serving-men stationed themselves before the place of exit, and Sir Francis found himself a prisoner. The roof rang with the laughter and gibes of the guests. E 2 52 THE STAR-CHAMBER, "This is 11 frolic, gentlemen, I perceive. You are resolved to make me your sport — lia! ha!" Sir Francis said, trying to disguise his uneasiness under an appear- ance of levity — " but you will not carry the jest too far. You will not maltreat me. My partner, Sir Giles Mompesson, will he here anou, and will requite any outrage committed upon me." " Sir Giles is impatiently expected hy us," a spruce coxcomb near him replied. "^^ Madame Bonaventure had prepared us for his coming. We will give him the welcome he deserves." " Ah ! traitress ! then it was all planned," Sir Francis thought; — "and, blind owl that I am^ I have fallen into the snare." But the poor knight was nearly at his wit's end with fright, when he saw Lord Roos quit his place at the upper table and approach him. THE STAR-CHAMBER. • 53 CHAPTER YII. LORD ROOS. '^What, my prince of usiu-ers!" exclaimed Lord Rocs:, in a mocking tone — " my worthy money-lender, who never takes more than cent, per cent., and art ill con- tent with less; who never exacts more than the penalty of thy bond — vmless more may be got; who never di'ives a hard bargain with a needy man — by thine own account; who never persecutes a debtor — as the prisons shall vouch for thee; who art just in all thy transactions — as every man who hath had dealings with thee will affirm ; and who knows not how to lie, to cheat, to cozen — as some usurers do." " You are pleasant, my lord," Sir Francis rej)lied. " I mean to be so," Lord Roos said : " for I esteem thee for thy rare qualities. I know not thy peer for cunning and knavery. Thy mischievous schemes are so well conceived that they prove thee to have an abso- lute genius for villany. Scniples thou hast none; and considerations and feelins^s which mifrht move men less obdm*ate than thyself, have no influence over thee. 54 THE STAR-CHAMBER. To ruin a man is with thee mere pastime ; and groans of the oppressed are music in thine ears." " Aha ! a good jest. You were always merry with me^ my lord." " Yes^ when I borrowed money from thee — but not when I had to repay it twice over. I laughed not then ; but was foolish enough to threaten to take thy life. My anger is past now. But we must di-ink together — a rousing toast." " At yom- lordship's pleasiu-e/' Sir Francis replied, " Gj^i'ien ! a flask of wine, and thy largest goblet/' Lord Roos cried. " 'Tis well ! Now pour the whole into the flagon. Do me reason in this cup, Sir Francis ?" " What ! in this mighty cup, my lord ?" the knight replied. " Nay, 'tis too much, I swear. If I become drunken, the sin wall lie at your door." " Off with it ! without more ado. And let the toast be what thou practisest — ' Pillage and Extortion !' " '' I cannot diink that toast, m}^ lord. 'Twill choke me." "'Sdeath ! villain, ]jut thou s/udf, or thou shalt never taste \vine more. Down wdth it, man ! And now your signature to this paper !" " My signature !" Sir Francis cried, reeling from the eifect of the wine he had swallowed. " Nay, my good lord, I can sign nothing that I have not read. ^Yhatisit?" " A blank sheet," Lord Roos rejoined. " I wiU fill it up afterwards." THE STAR-CHAMBER. 55 tei ' Then, my lord, I refuse — that is, I decline — that is, I had rather not, if your lordshij) pleases," " But my lordship pleases otherwise. Give him pen and ink, and set him near the table." This was done ; and Sir Francis regarded the paper Avith sAvimming eyes. " Now, your name — Avritten near the Ijottom of the sheet,"^' Lord Roos cried. " 'Tis done under com — compulsion ; and I pro — protest against it." " Sign, I say," the )'oung noljleman exclaimed, rapping the table peremptoril}\ On this. Sir Francis wrote his name in the place indicated. " Enough !" Lord Roos cried, snatching up the paper. " This is all I want. Now set him on the table, that his partner may have him in full view when he arrives. ^ Twill give him a foretaste of what he may himself expect." " What mean you, ruff — ruffians ? 'Tis an indig- nity to which I shall not submit," cried Sir Francis, Avho was now, however, too far gone to otfer any resistance. A leathern girdle was fomid, wT.th which he w^as fastened to the chair, so as to prevent him slipping from it ; and in this state he was hoisted upon the table, and set Avith his face to the door ; looking the very picture of inebriety, with his head di'ooping on one side, his arms dangling uselessly down, and his thin legs stretched idly out. After making some 56 THE STAR-CII AMBER. incoherent objections to this treatment, he l)ecame altog-ether silent, and seemed to fall asleep. His ele- vation was received '\\ith shouts of laug-hter from the whole company- . The incident had not taken place many minutes, and a round had scarcely been cU'imk by the guests, ^vhen a loud and peremptory summons was heard at the door. The noise roused even the poor drunkard in the chair, who, lifting up his head, stared al^out him "with vacant eyes. " Let the door be opened," the same authoritative voice exclaimed, A\hich had before ordered its closure. The mandate was obeyed ; and, amidst profomid silence, which suddenly succeeded the clashing of glasses and expressions of hilarity. Sir Giles Mompes- son entered, M'ith his body-guard of mp-midons behind him. Habited in black, as was his custom, with a velvet mantle on his shoulder, and a long rapier Ijy his side, he came forward \\'itli a measured stejj and assured demeanour. Though he must iiecessarily have beea sm'prised by the assemblage he found — so much more nmnerous and splendid than he could have anticipated — he betrayed no signs whatever of embarrassment. Nor, though his quick eye instantly detected Sir Francis, and he guessed at once why the poor knight had been so scandalously treated, did he exhibit any signs of displeasure, or take the slightest notice of the- circimistance ; reserving this point for consideration ■when his first business should be settled. An addi- THE STAll-CHAMBER. 57 tional frown niio-ht have darkened his countenance ; but it was so stern and sombre mthout it, that no j)er- ceptible change could be discerned, unless it might be in the lightning' glances he cast aroimd, as if seeking some one he might call to account presently for the insult. But no one seemed ^^'illing to reply to the challenge. Though bold enough before he came, and boastful of Avhat they would do^ they all looked awed by his presence, and averted their gaze from him. There was, indeed, something so formidable in the man, that to shun a quarrel with him was more a matter of prudence than an act of cowardice ; and on the pre- sent occasion, no one liked to be first to provoke him ; trusting to his neighbour to commence the attack, or awaiting the general outbreak. There was one exceptioii, however^ and that Avas Jocelyn jNIounchensey, who, so far from desiring to shun Sir Giles's searching regards, courted them; and as the knight's eagle eye ranged round the table and fell upon him, the }'oung man (notwithstanding the efforts of his pacific neighl)our in the furred cloak to restrain him) suddenly rose up, and throwing all tlie scorn and defiance he could muster into his countenance,, returned jMompesson's glance with one eqxially fierce and menacing. A bitter smile curled Sir Giles's lip at this reply to his challenge, and he regarded the young man fixedl}', as if to grave his features upon his memory. Perhaps they brought jNIounchensey's father to mind, for Sir Giles withdrew his gaze for a moment to reflect, and 58 THE STAR-CHAMBER. then looked again at JoceUna with fresh cimosity. If he had any doubts as to whom he beheld^ they Avere removed by Sir Francis, who managed to hiccup forth— *^ ^Tis he, Sir Giles — 'tis Jocelyn Mounehensey." " I tliouglit as much," Sir Giles muttered. " A moment, young man," he cried, waving his hand im- periously to his antagonist " Your turn will come presently." And without bestowang further notice on Jocelyn, who resisted all his neighboiu''s entreaties to him to sit do^vai, Sir Giles advanced towards the middle of the chamber, where he paused, and took off his cap, having hitherto remained covered. In this position, he looked like a grand inqmsitor attended by his familiars. THE STAR-CHAMBER. 59 CHAPTER YIII. OF LUPO YULP, CAPTAIN BLUDDER, CLEMENT LAN- YERE, AND SIR GILEs's OTHER MYRMIDONS. Clo&e behind Sir Giles, and a little in advance of tlie rest of the mp-midons, stood Lupo Vulp, the scrivener. Lupo Vidp was the confidential adviser of our two extortioners, to whom they referred all their nefarious projects. He it was who prepared their Ijonds and contracts, and placed out their ill-gotten gains at exorbitant usance. Lupo Vidp was in all respects worthy of his employers, being just as wily and un- scrupidous as they were, while, at the same time, he was rather better versed in legal tricks and stratagems, so that he could give them apt counsel in any emer- gency. A countenance more replete with cunning and knavery than that of Lupo Vulp, it would be diffieidt to discover. A sardonic smile hovered per- petually about his mouth, which was garnished viith ranges of the keenest and whitest teeth. His features were sharp ; his eyes small, set wide apart, of a light grey colom-, and with all the slyness of a fox hu'king within their furtive glances. Indeed, his general re- CO THE STAK-CILVMBER. semblance to that astute animal must have struck a physiognomist. His head was shaped like that of a fox, and his hair and heard were of a reddish-tawny hue. His manner was stealthy, cowering, suspicious, as if he feared a hlow from every hand. Yet Lupo Vulp could show his teeth and snap on occasions. He was attired in a close-fitting doublet of russety-broAvn, round yellow hose, and long stockings of the same hue. A short brown mantle and a fox-skin cap completed his costume. The leader of the troop was Captain Bludder, a huge Alsatian bully, with fiercely-twisted moustachios, and fiery-red beard cut like a spade. He wore a steeple- crowned hat with a brooch in it, a buff jerkin and boots, and a sword and buckler dangled from his waist. Besides these, he had a couple of petronels stuck in his girdle. The captain drank like a fish, and swaggered and swore like twenty troopers. The rear of the band was formed by the tip-staves — stout fellows with hooks at the end of their poles, in- tended to capture a fugitive, or hale him along when caught. With these were some others armed with brown-bills. No uniformity prevailed in the accoutre- ments of the party, each man arraying himself as he listed. Some wore old leather jerkins and steel skirts; some, peascod doublets of Elizabeth's time, and trunk- hose that had covered many a liml:) besides their own ; others, slops and galligaskins ; while the poorer sort Avere robed in rusty gowns of tuft-mockado or taffeta, once STuarded with velvet or lined with sldns, but now THE STAU-CH AMBER. 61 tattered and threadbare. Their caps and bonnets were as varied as their apparel — some being hio-h-cro^vned, some trencher-shaped, and some few wide in the leaf and looped at the side. ^Moreover, there was e very- variety of viUanous aspect : the savage scowl of the desperado^ the cunning leer of the trickster^ and the sordid look of the mean knave. Several of them betrayed, by the marks of infamy branded on their faces, or by the loss of ears, that they had passed through the hands of the public executioner. Amongst those there was one with, a visage more frightfully mutilated than those of his comrades; the nose having been slit, and subsequently sewed together again, but so chmisily that the severed parts had only imperfectly miited, communicating a strange, distorted, and forbidding look to the physiognomj-. Clement Lanyere, the o^nler of this gashed and ghastly face, who was also reft of his ears, and branded on the cheek, had sufi'ered infamy and degradation, omng to the licence he had given his tongue in respect to the Star- Chamber, Prosecuted in that court by Sir Giles Mompesson, as a notorious libeller and scandaller of the judges and first personages of the realm, he was found guilty, and sentenced accordingly. The court showed little leniency to such offenders; but it was a matter of grace that his clamorous tongue was not torn out likemse,in addition to the punishment actually inflicted. A heavy line and imprisonment accompanied the corporal penalties. Thus utterly ruined and de- graded, and a mark for the finger of scorn to point at. 62 TJIE STAR-CIIAMBEK. Clement Lanyei-e, whose prospects had once been fair enough^ as his features had l)een prepossessing, became soured and malevolent, emljittered ag-ainst the world, and at war with society. He turned promoter, or, in modern parlance, informer; lodging complaints, seeking out causes for prosecutions, and bringing people into trouble in order to ol^tain part of the forfeits they incmTcd for his pains. Strange to say, he attached himself to Sir Giles Mompesson, — the cause of all his misfortunes, — and became one of the most active and useful of his followers. It was thouorht no p-ood could come of this alliance, and that the promoter only bided his time to turn upon his master, against whom it was only natural he should nourish secret vengeance. But, if it were so. Sir Giles seemed to entertain no appre- hensions of him, probably thinking he could crush him whenever he pleased. Either way the event was long deferred. Clement Lanyere, to all appearance, con- tinued to serve his master zealously and well; and Sir Giles gave no sign whatever of distrust, but, on the contrary, treated him with increased confidence. The promoter was attired wholly in black — cloak, cap, doublet, and hose were of sable. And as, owing to the emolimients springing from his vile calling, his means were far greater than those of his comrades, so his habiliments were better. When Avrapped in his mantle, ■with his mutilated countenance covered with a mask which he generally Avore, the informer might have passed for a cavalier; so tall and well formed was his figure, and so bold his deportment. The dangerous THE STAR-CHAMBER. C3 service he was employed upon, which exposed him to insult and injmy, required him to be well armed; and he took care to he so. Two or three of Sir Giles's m} rmidons, having' been selected for particular description, the designations of some others must suffice — svich as Staring- Hugh, a rascal of unmatched eifrontery; the Gib Cat and Cut- ting Dick, dissolute rogues from the Pickt-hatch in Turnbull-street, near Clerkenwell; old Tom Wootton, once a notorious harbourer of " masterless men," at his house at Smart's Quay, but now a sheriflT's officer; and, perhaps, it ought to be mentioned, that there w^ere some half dozen swash-bucklers and shai'pers from Alsatja, under the command of Captain Bludder, Avho was held responsible for their good conduct. Such was Sir Giles's body-guard. On his entrance, it may be remarked, the curtain in front of the raised table was more closely di-awn, so as completely to conceal the guests. But their import- ance might he inferred from the serving-men, in rich liveries, standing before the traverse. Profound silence reigned throughout the assemblage. Ha\ing uncovered, as Ijcfore mentioned, and made a formal reverence to the company, Sir Giles spoke as follows : — " I crave your pardon, worthy sirs," he said, in a dis- tinct and resolute voice, " for this intrusion, and regret to be the means of marring- yoiu- festivity. I came hither wholly imprepared to find such an assemblage. Yet, though I would ^^illingly have chosen a more (U< TIIK STAK-CllAMHEll. fitting' opportunity for my visit, and would postpone, it' I could, to another oeeasiou, the unpleasant duty I have to fnllil, the matter is urgent, and will not admit of delay. You ^vill hold me excused, therefore, if I ]n'oeeed with it, regardless of your presence; and I am well assiu'ed no let or interruption will be offered me, seeing I act with the royal licence and authority, of ^\■hieh I am the unworthy representative." " Truly, your conduct requires explanation/' Jocelyn Mounchensey cried, in a mocking tone. "If I had not been here in London, I should have judged, from your appearance, and that of your attendants, that a band of desperate marauders had broken in upon us, and that we must draw our swords to defend our lives, and save the house from pillage. But after what you have said, I conclude you to be the sheriff, come with your followers to execute some writ of attachment; and therefore, however annoying the presence of such a iunctionary may be, — however ill-timed may be your visit, and unmannerly j'our deportment, — we are bound not to molest }'ou." Provocation like this was rarely addressed to Sir Giles; and the choler occasioned by it was increased by the laughter and cheers of the company. Never- theless he constrained his anger, replying in a stern, scornful tone— " I would counsel you not to molest me, young man. The mistake you have committed in regard to myself may be pardoned in one of your evident inexperience; Yv'ho, fresh from the Ijoorish society of the country. THE STAR-CHAMBER. G5 finds himself^ for the first time, amongst well-bred gentlemen. Of all here present you are probably the sole person ignorant that I am Sir Giles Mompesson. But it is scarcely likely that they shoidd be aware, as I chance to be, that the clownish insolent who has dared to wag his tongue against me, is the son of a Star-Chamber delinquent." VOL. I. (36 TIIK STAil-CIIAMBEJl. CHAPTER IX. THE LETTERS-PATENT. A SLIGHT reaction in Sir Giles's favour was produced by his speeclij but Jocelyn quite regained his position vdih. the company when he exclaimed — " My father was misjudged. His prosecutor was a villain^ and his sentence iniquitous." " You have uttered your own condemnation, Jocel^m Mounehensey," Sir Giles cried, \vith a savage laugh. " Know, to your confusion, that the High Court of Star-Chamber is so tender of upholding the honour of its sentences, that it ever pimishes such as speak against them with the greatest severity. You have uttered yoxir scandals openly." "Imprudent young man, you have, indeed, placed yourself in fearful jeopardy," a gentleman near him observed to Jocelyn. " Escape, if you can. You are lost, if you remain here." But instead of folloA\'ing tlie friendly advice, Jocelvi^ woidd have assaulted Sir Giles, if he had not been forcibly A\dthheld by the gentleman. The knight was not slow to follow up the advantage he had gained. THE STAR-CHAMBEll. 07 '^ Stand forward, Clement Lanyere/' he exclaimed, authoritatively. The promoter instantly advanced. " Look at this man," Sir Giles continued, addressing Joeehai; " and you wall perceive how those who malign the Star-Chamher are treated. This disfigured coun- tenance was once as free from seam or scar as your own; and yet, for an offence lighter than yours, it hath been stamped, as you see, with indeliljle infamy. Answer, Clement Lanyere, — and answer according to your conscience, — Was the sentence just of the high and honourable court by which you were tried ? " " It was just," the promoter replied, a deep flush dyeing his ghastly visage. "And lenient?" " Most lenient. For it left my foul tongue the power of speech it now enjoys." " By whom were you prosecuted in the Star-Cham- ber?" " By him I now serve." " That is, by myself. Do you bear me malice for what I did?" " I have never said so. On the contrary. Sir Giles, I have always declared I owe you a deep debt." " Which you strive to pay ? " "Whichl?^77^pay." "You hear what this man says, Moimchensey?" Sir Giles cried. " You have been guilty of the same offence as he. YvHiy should 3/ou not be similarly punished ?" 1-3 CS THE STAU-CIlAMBEll. " If I were so punished, I Mould stab my prosecutor to the heart/^ Jocelyn rephed. At this rejoinder^ Lanyere, v.ho had hitherto kept his e}'es on the ground^ suddenly raised them^ with a look of singular expression at the speaker. "Humph I" Sir Giles ejaculated. "I must proceed to extremities ^\•ith him, I iind. Keep strict Avatch upon him, Lanyere; and follow him if he goes forth. Trace him to his lair. Now to business. Give me the Letters-Patent, Lupo," he added, turning to the scrivener, as Lanyere retired. " These Letters-Patent/' continued Sir Giles, taking t^vo parchment scrolls with large seals pendent iVum them from Lupo Yulp, and displaying them to the assemblage, " these Royal Letters," he repeated in his steady, stern tones, and glancing round with a look of half-defiance, " passed under the great seal, and bearing the King's sign- manual, as ye see, gentlemen, constitute the authority on which I act. They accord to me and my co- patentee. Sir Francis Mitchell, absolute and uncon- trolled power and discretion in grantmg and refusing licences to all tavern-keepers and hostel-keepers throughout London. They give us full power to enter and inspect all taverns and hostels, at any time that may seem fit to us; to prevent any xinlaM-ful games being used therein; and to see that good order and rule be maintamed. They also render it compul- sory xipon aU ale-house-keepers, tavern-keepers, and inn-keepers throughout London, to enter into their o\vn recognizances with us against the non-observance THE STAR-CHAMBER. (j'ill fail ^^dth me. I renew my demand — and for the last time. Do not compel me to resort to extremities A\'ith you. It woidd grieve me," he added, ^^dth a bitter smile, " to di'ag so pretty a woman through the public streets, like a common debtor, to the Compter." " Grace ! grace ! Sir Giles," cried Madame Bona- venture. Then seeing him remain inflexible, she added, in an altered tone, " I will never submit with life to such an indignity — never !" " We'll all protect you, Madame," cried the assem- blage, with one voice — " Let him lay hands upon you, and he shall see." Sir Gdes glanced at his myrmidons. They stepped quickly towards him in a body. At the same time Jocelyn Mounchensey, whom no efforts of the friendly gentleman could now restrain, sprang forward, and, drawing his sword, was just in time to place himself before Madame Bonaventure, as she drcAv hastily back. " Have no fear, Madame, you are safe with me," THE STAH-CHAMBER. 75 the young- man said, glancing fiercely at the knight and his troop. The greatest confusion now reigned throughout the room. Other swords were drawn, and several of the guests mounted upon the benches to overlook the scene. Cyprien, and the rest of the drawers and tradesmen, ranged themselves behind their mistress, prepared to resist any attempt on the part of the myrmidons to seize her. The cm-tain at the head of the room was partly di-awn aside, showing that the distinguished persons at ihe upper table were equally excited. ^^ Gentlemen," Sir Giles said, still maintaining perfect calmness in the midst of the tumult, " a word with you ere it be too late. I don^t address myself to you, Jocelpi i\Iounchensey, for }'ou are undeserving of any friendly consideration — but to all others I would coimsel forbearance and non-resistance. Dehver up that woman to me." " I will die upon the spot sooner than }'ou shall be surrendered," said Jocelyn, encom-aging the hostess, who chmg to his disengaged arm. '^ Oh 1 mercl ! grand 'iiiercl ! inoii beau- gent'd- hoiurae .'" she exclaimed. " Am I to imderstand, then, that you mean to impede me in the lawful execution of my pm-poses, gentlemen?" Sir Giles demanded. " We mean to prevent an milawfid arrest," several voices rejoined. " Be it so," the knight said; " I wash my hands of 76 THE STAR-CHAMBER. the consequences." Then turning to his followers^ he added — " Ofncers, at all hazards, attach the person of Dameris Bonaventure, and convey her to the Compter. At the same time, arrest the yomig- man beside her — Jocel}ai ]Mounchensey, — who has uttered treasonable language against our sovereign lord the King. I will tell you how to dispose of him anon. Do my bidding at once." But ere the order could be obeyed, the authoritative voice which had previously l)een heard from the upper table exclaimed — " Hold I" Sir Giles paused; looked irresolute for a minute; and then checked his myrmidons with a wave of the hand. " \ATio is it stays the law ?" he said, \\ith the glare of a tiger from whom a bone has been snatched. " One you must needs obey. Sir Giles," replied Lord Roos, coming towards him from the upper table, " You have imconsciously played a part in a comedy — and played it very well, too — but it is time to bring the piece to an end. We are fast verging on the confines of tragedy." " I do not vmderstand }'ou, my lord," Sir Giles re- turned, gravely. "I discern nothing comic in the matter; though much of serious import." '^You do not perceive the comedy, because it has been part of our scheme to keep you in the dark, Sir Giles." " So there is a scheme, then, a-foot here, my lord? — ha!" THE STAU-CHAMBEil. 77 " A little meny plot, nothing- more, Sir Giles — in the workin^^ of which your worthy co-ptitentee. Sir Francis Mitchell, has materially assisted." " Ha!" exclaimed Sir Giles, glancing at his partner, who still occupied his elevated position upon the table — " I presume, then, I have to thank }^ou, my lord, for the indignity oftered to my friend?" "As you please. Sir Giles," Lord Eoos returned carelessly. "You call it an indignity; but in my opinion the best thing to be done with a man whose head so swims with wine that his legs refiise to sup- port him, is to tie him in a chair. He may else sacrifice his dignity by rolling under the table. But let this pass for the nonce. Before Sir Francis w^as wholly overcome, he was good enough to give me his signature. You saw him do it, gentlemen ?" he added, appealing to the company. "Yes — yes! — v.-e saw him write it!" was the general reply. " And to vrhat end was this done, my lord ?" Sir Giles demanded, sternly. "To enable me," replied the imperturbable young nobleman, " to draw out a receipt in full of yom- joint claims against Madame Bonaventure. I have done it. Sir Giles, and here it is. And I have taken care to grant a renewal of her licence from the date of yom- notice; so that no penalties or lines can attach to her for neglect. Take it, Madame Bonaventure," he con- tinued, handing her the paper. " It is your full ac- quittance." 78 THE STAR-CHAMBER. " And tliinlv you, my lord, that this shallow artifice — to give it no harsher term — "will avail you anything?^* Sir Giles cried, sconifully. " I set it aside at once." " Your pardon. Sir Giles; you will do no such thing.'* " And who will hinder me ? — You, my lord ?" '' Even I, Sir Giles. Proceed at your peril." The young nobleman's assurance staggered his op- ponent. " He must have some one to uphold him, or he would not be thus confident," he thought. " Whose was the voice I heard? It sounded like Xo matter! 'Tis needful to be cautious." " You do not, then, hold yourself bound by the acts 'of your partner, Sir Giles?" Lord Roos said. " I deny this to be his act," the knight replied. " Better question him at once on the subject," Lord Roos said. " Set him free, Cyprien." The Gascon did as he was bidden, and with the aid of his fellow di'awers, helped Sir Francis from the table. To the surprise of the company, the knight then managed to stagger forward unassisted, and would have embraced Sir Giles, if the latter had not thrust him off" in disgust, with some violence. " What folly is this. Sir Francis ?" Sir Giles cried, angrily. " You have forgotten yourself strangely. You have taken leave of your senses, methinks!" " Not a whit of it. Sir Giles — not a whit. I never was more my own master than I am at present, as I A\dll prove to you." "Prove it, then, by explaining how you came to THE STAR-CHAMBER. 79 sign that paper. You could not mean to run counter to me ?" " But I did," Sir Francis rejoined, liighly offended. " I meant to run counter to you in signing it, and I mean it now." "'Sdeath! j^ou besotted fool, you are playing into their hands!" " Besotted fool in your teeth. Sir Giles. I am as sober as yourself. My hand has been put to that paper, and what it contains I stand by." " You design, then, to acquit ISIadame Bonaventure? Consider what you say." " No need for consideration ; I have always de- signed it." "Ten thousand thanks, Sir Francis!" the hostess cried. " I knew I had an excellent friend in you." The enamoured knight seized the hand she extended towards him, but in the attempt to kiss it, fell to the ground, amid the laughter of the company. "Are you satisfied now. Sir Giles?" asked Lord Roos. " I am satisfied that Sir Francis has been duped," ' he replied, " and that when his brain is free from the fmnes of ^dne, he will bitterly regret his folly. But even his discharge will be insufiicient. Though it may bind me, it will not bind the Crown, which will yet enforce its claims." "Tliat, Sir Giles, I leave competent authority to decide," Lord Eoos replied, retiring. And as he withdi-ew, the curtains before the upper so THE STAR-CHAMBER. table were entirely withdrawn, disclosing the whole of the brilliant assemblage, and at the head of them one person far more brilliant and distinguished than the rest. "Bnekingham!" Sir Giles exclaimed. " I thought I knew the voiee.'^ It was, indeed, the King's omnipotent favourite. IMagnificently attired, the Marquis of Buckingham as far outshone his companions in splendour of habili- ments as he did in stateliness of carriage and beauty of person. Rising from the table, and donning his plumed hat, looped with diamonds, A\dth a gesture worthy of a monarch, while all the rest remained un- covered, as if in recognition of his superior dignity, he descended to where Sir Giles Mompesson was standing. It need scarcely be said that Jocelyn Mounchensey had never seen the superb favourite before; but he did not require to be told whom he beheld, so perfectly did Buckingham realize the descriptions given of him. A little a1)ove the ordinary height, with a figure of the most perfect symmetry, and featm-es as aristocratic and haughty as handsome, it was impossible to con- ceive a prouder or a nobler-loolcing personage than the marquis. His costume was splendid, consisting of a doublet of white cut velvet, roped with pearls, which fitted him to admiration. Over his shoulders he wore a mantle of watchet-coloured velvet; his neck was en- circled by a falling band; and silken hose of the same colour as the doublet completed his costume. His deportment was singularly dignified; but his manner might have conciliated more if it had been less impe- rious and disdainful. »THE STAR-CHAMBER. 81 Sir Giles made a profound obeisance as Buckingham advanced towards him. His sahitation was haughtily returned. " I have heard something of your mode of proceed- ing with the keepers of taverns and hostels, Sir Giles/' the proud marquis said; " but this is the first occasion on which I have seen it put in practice, — and I am free to confess that you deal not over gently Vvdth them, if the present may be considered a specimen of your ordinary conduct. Those letters-patent were not confided to you by his Majesty to distress his subjects for your own particular advantage and profit, but to benefit the community by keeping such places of enter- tainment in better order than heretofore. I fear you have somewhat abused your warrant, Su' Giles." " If to devote myself, heart and soid, to his Majesty's service, and to enrich his Majesty's exchequer, be to abuse my warrant, I have done so, my lord ]\Iarquis, — but not otherwise. I have ever vindicated the dignity and authority of the Cro^^^l. You have just heard that, though my own just claims have been defeated 1)y the inadvertence of my co-patentee, I have advanced those of the Kinp' " The King relinquishes all claims in the present ■case," Buckingham replied. " His gracious j\Iajesty gave me full discretion in the matter, and I act as I know he himself would have acted." And waving liis hand to signify that he would listen to no remonstrances, the Marquis turned to Madame Bonaventure, who instantly prostrated herself before VOL. I. G 82 THE STAll-CHAMBEll. liim_, as she avoilIcI have doue before royalty itself, warmly thanking- him for his protection. "You must thank my Lord lioos, and not me, Madame/' Buckingham graciously replied, raising her as he spoke. " It was at his lordship's instance I came here. He takes a warm interest m you, Madame." '' I shall ever be beholden to his lordship, I am sure," Madame Bonaventure said, casting down her eyes and blushing, or feigning to blush, "as well as to you, Monseigneur." " My Lord Eoos avouched," pursued Buckingham, " tliat at the Three Cranes I should find the prettiest hostest and the best of wine in London; and on my faith as a gentleman! I must say he was %\Tong in neither partictdar. Brighter eyes I have never beheld — rarer claret I have never drunk." " Oh, Monseigneur ! you quite overwhelm me. My poor house can scarcely hope to be honoured a second time with such a presence; but should it so chance " " You will give me as good welcome as you have done to-day. No lack of inducement to repeat the visit. Su- Giles Mompesson!" " My lord Marquis." "I lay my commands upon you, good Sir Giles, that no fm'ther molestation be offered to Madame Bonaventure, but that you give a good report of her house. Withdraw your followers without delay." " Your commands shall be obeyed, my lord Marquis," Sir Giles rejoined; "but before I go, I have an arrest to make. That yomig man," pointing to JoceljTi, *' has been talking treason.'^ THE STAll-ClIAMBEll. 83 " It is fcilse^ iny lord Marquis/^ Joeelyn replied. '' His Majesty hatli not a more loyal subject than myself. I woiild cut out my tont2;ue rather than speak atT^ainst him. I have said the I'Limj; is ill served in such officers as Giles Mompesson and Sir Prancis Mitchell^ and I abide by my words. They can reflect no dishonour on His I\Iajesty." " Save that they seem to imply a belief on your part that his Majesty has chosen his officers badly/' Buckingham said^ regarding the young man fixedly. " Not so, my lord Marquis. ' These men may have been favourably represented to his Majesty, who no doubt has been kept in ignorance of their iniquitous proceedings." " Yv^hat are you di-iving at, sir?" Buckingham cried, almost fiercely. '■•' I mean, my lord Marquis, that these persons may be the creatures of some powerful noble, whose interest it is to throv/ a cloak over their malpractices." "'Fore heaven! some covert insult would seem to be intended," exclaimed Buckingham. "Who is this young m^an, Sir Giles?" " He is named Joeelyn Mounchensey, my lord Marquis; and is the son of an old Norfolk knight baronet, who, you may remember, was arraigned before the Court of S tar-Chamber, heavily fined, and imprisoned." " I do remember the case, and the share you and Sir Francis had in it. Sir Giles," Bucldngham rejoined. "I am right glad to hear that, my lord," said G 2 84 THE STAR-CHAMBER. Joeelyn. "You will not then wonder that I avow myself their mortal enemy." "We laugh to scorn these idle vapourings/' said Sir Giles; "and were it permitted/' he added^ touching' his sword, "I myself would find an easy w^ay to silence them. But the froward youth, wdaose brains seem crazed with his fancied wrongs, is not content \yith railing against us, hat must needs lift up his voice against all constituted authority. He hath spoken contemptuously of the Star-Chamher, — and that, my lord ]Marquis, as you well know, is an offence which cannot be passed over." " I am sorry for it," Buckingham rejoined; " but if he will retract what he has said, and express com- punction, with promise of amendment in future, I Avill exert my influence to have him held harmless." " I will never retract what I have said ao^ainst that iniquitous tribunal," Joeelyn rejoined, fii-mly. " I will rather die a martyr, as my father did, in the cause of truth." " Your kindness is altogether thrown away upon him, my lord," Sir Giles said, with secret satisfaction. " So I perceive," Buckingham rejoined. " Our business is over," he added, to the nobles and gallants around him; " so w^e may to our barges. You, my lord," he added to Lord Roos, " will doubtless tarry to receive the thanks of our pretty hostess." And graciously saluting Madame Bonaventm'e, he quitted the tavern, accompanied by a large train, and entering his barge amid the acclamations of the spec- tators, was rowed towards Whitehall. THE STAR-CHAMBER. 85 CHAPTER X. THE 'prentices AND THEIR LEADER. While the Marquis of Bucking-ham and his suite were moving towards the wharf, amid the acclamations of the crowd (for in the early part of his brilliant career the haughty favourite was extremely popular with the multitude, probably owing to the princely largesses he was in the habit of distributing among them) , a very different reception awaited those who succeeded him. The hurrahs and other vociferations of delight and enthusiasm were changed into groans, hootings, and discordant yells, when Sir Francis Mitchell came in sight, supported between two stout myrmidons, and scarcely able to maintain his perpendicular as he was borne by them towards the wherry in waiting for him near the stairs. Though the knight was escorted by Captain Bludder and his Alsatian bullies, several of the crowd did not seem disposed to confine themselves to jeers and derisive shouts, but menaced him \\'ith some rough usage. Planting themselves in his path, they shook their fists in his face, with other gestures of defiance and indignity, and could only be removed by SG THE STAR-CHAMBER. force. Captain Bludder and his roaring blades assumed tlieir fiercest looks, swore tlieir loudest oaths, twisted theii" shag-gy moustaches, and tapped their rapier-hilts ; but they prudent!}^ forbore to drav/ their weapons, well kno'nang that the proceeding would be a signal for a brawl, and that the cry of " Clubs !" woiddbe instantly raised. Amongst the foremost of those who thus obstructed Sir Francis and his party, Avas a young man wdth a lithe active figure, bright black eyes, full of liveliness and malice, an olive comple:don, and a gipsy -like cast of countenance. Attired in a tio-ht-fittinc^ broA\Ti frieze jerkin with stone buttons, and purple hose, his head was covered with a montero cap, with a cock's feather stuck in it. He was armed neither AA^ith sword nor dagger, but carried a large cudgel or club, the weU- known and formidable Aveapon of the London 'pren- tices, in the use of which, AAdiether as a quarterstatf or missile, they Avere remarkably expert. Even a skilful SAA'ordsman stood but poor chance AA'ith them. Besides this saucy-looking personage, Avho Avas addressed as Dick TaA'erner by his comrades, there Avere many others, Avdio, to judge from their habiliments and their cudgels, belonged to the same fraternity as himself; that is to say, they Avere apprentices to grocers, drapers, haberdashers, skinners, ii'onmongers, Aintners, or other respectable artificers or tradesfoUv. Now Dick Taverner had an especial gnidge against om* two extortioners, for thoiigh he himself, being 'prentice to a bookseller in Paul's Churchyard, had little concern A\ith them, he Avas the son of an inn- THE STAR-CHAMBER. 87 keeper — Simon Taverner, of the Emperor's Head, GarKck Hiil — who had been recently ruined by their exactions, his Kcence taken from him, and his house closed : enoug-h to provoke a less mettlesome spark than Diekj who had vowed to revenge the parental injm'ies on the first opportunity. The occasion now seemed to present itself^ and it was not to be lost. Chancing to be playing at bowls in the alley behind the Three Cranes with some of his comrades on the day in ques- tion, Dick learnt from Cyprien what was going for- ward, and tlie party resolved to have their share in the sport. If needful, they promised the di-awer to rescue his mistress from the clutches of her antagonists, and to diive them from the premises. But their services in this respect were not required. They next decided on giving Sir Francis Mitchell a sound ducking in the Thames. Their measures were quickly and warily taken. Issuing from an arched doorway at the side of the tavern, they stationed some of their nrnnber near it, while the main party posted themselves at the prmcipal entrance in front. Scouts were planted inside to com- municate mth Cyprien, and messengers were despatched to cry " Cluljs I" and summon the neighboiu'hig 'prentices from Qneenhithe, Thames Street, Trinity Lane, Old Fish Street, and Dowgate Hill; so that fresh auxiliaries were constantly arriving. Buckingham, with the young nobles and gallants, were, of com-se, allowed to pass free, and were loudly cheered ; but the 'prentices soon ascertained from their scouts that Sir Francis was coming forth, and made ready for him. 88 THE star-cha:)Ibek. Utterly imconscious of liis danger, the inebriate knig'lit replied to the gibes, scoffs, and menaces udch'essed t(i him, by snapping his fingers in his oppo- nents' fiices, and irritating them in their tiu^n ; but if he was insensible of the risk he ran, those aromid hixa were not, and his two supporters endeavoured to huriy him forward. A iolentlv resisting their efforts, he tried to shake them, otfj and more than once stood stock- still, imtil compelled to go on. i\j-rived at the staii*- head, he next refused to embark, and a scene of A^olent altercation ensued between him and his attendants. jNIany boats were moored off the shore, A\ith a couj)le of barges close at hand ; and the watermen and oars- men, standing up in their craft, listened to what was going forward A^th much apparent amusement. Hastily descending the steps. Captain Bludder placed himself near the wheriy intended for the knight, and called to the others to make short work of it and luring him down. At this junctm'e the \yoYd was given by Dick Taverner, A\ho acted as leader, and in less than two minutes, Sii' Francis was transferred from the hands of his m\Tmidons to those of the 'prentices. To accomplish this, a vigorous application of cudgels was requii'ed, and some broken pates were the consequence of resistance ; but the attack was perfectly successfid ; the mp-midons and Alsatians were routed, and the 'prentices remained masters of the field, and captors of a prisoner. Stupified with rage and astonishment. Captain Bludder looked on ; at one moment thinking of draA\Tiig his sword, and joining the fray ; but the next, perceiATuig that his men were evidently worsted. THE STAU-CH AMBER, 89' he decided upon making off; and with this view he was about to jmnp into the when-}', when his purpose was prevented by Dick Taverner, and a few others of the most active of his companions, who dashed down the steps to \\'here he stood. The captain had ah-eady got one foot in the wherry, and the ^\'atermen, equally alarmed with himself, were trying* to push off, when the invaders came up, and, springing into the boat, took possession of the oars, sending Bludder fiomidering into the Thames, where he sank up to the shoulders,. and stuck fast in the mud, roaring piteously for help. Scarcely were the ^prentices seated, than Sir Francis Mitchell was brought dowm to them, and the poor knight, begmning to comprehend the jeopardy in which he was placed, roared for help as lustily as the half-dro\^^led Alsatian captain, and quite as ineliec- tually. The latter was lett to shift for himself, but the former was rowed out some twenty or thirty yards from the shore, where, a stout cord being fastened to his girdle, he Avas plunged head-foremost into the river ; and after being thrice drawn up, and as often submerged again, he was dragged on board, and lett to shiver and shake in his dripping habiliments in the stern of the boat. The bath had completely sobered him, and he bitterly bemoaned himself, declaring that if he did not catch his death of cold he shoidd be plagued with cramps and rheumatism during the rest of his days. He did not dare to utter any threats against his persecutors, but he internally vowed to be revenged upon them — cost what it might. The ^pren- tices laughed at his complaints, and Dick Taverner 90 THE STAll-CIIAMBER. told him — " that as he liked not cold water, he should have si^ared them their ale and wine ; but, as he had meddled Avith their liquors, and with those who sold them, they had given him a taste of a different bever- age, which they should provide, free of cost, for all those \v\\o interfered mth their enjoyments, and the rights of the public." Dick added, '^that his last sousing was in requital for tlie stoppage of the Em- peror's Head, and that, with his own free ^^all, he would have left him under the water, v^dth a stone round his neck/' This measure of retributive justice accomplished, the 'prentices and their leader made for the stairs, Avhere they landed, after telling the watermen to row their fare to the point nearest his lodgings ; an order which was seconded by Sir Francis him.self, who was appre- hensive of fm-ther outrage. Neither would he tarry to take in Captain Bludder, though earnestly implored to do so by that personage, who, having in his struggles sunk deeper into the oozy bed, could now only just keep his bearded chin and mouth above the level of the tide. Taking compassion upon him, Dick Taver- ner threw him an oar, and, instantly grasping it, the Alsatian was in this way dragged ashore ; presenting a very woful spectacle, his nether limbs being covered with slime, while the moisture poured from his gar- ments, as it would from the coat of a water-spaniel. His hat had floated down the stream, and he had left one boot sticking in the mud, while his buff jerkin, saturated with wet, clung to his skin hke a damp glove. THE STAR-CHAMBER. 91 Leaviiio" liim to wTins^ Ms cloak and di'y his liabili- ments iu the best way he coiild, the leader of the 'prentices collected together his forces^ and, disposing them in something like military array, placed himself at their head, and marched towards the tavern, where they set np a great shout. Hitherto they had met with no interruption whatever. On the contraiy, the waterhien, bargemen, and others, had cheered them on in their work of mischief; and the crowd on shore appeared rather friendly to them than otherwise. Flushed with success, the riotous youths seemed well disposed to carry their work of retribution to extre- mities, and to inflict some punishment upon Sir Giles proportionate to his enormities. Having ascertained, from their scouts, that no one connected with the usurious knight had come forth, they felt quite secure of theii' prey, and were organizing a plan of attack, when intelligence was brought by a scout that a great distm'bance was going on inside, in consequence of a young gentleman having been arrested by Sir Giles and his crew, and that their presence was instantly required by Madame Bonaventui'e. On hearing this, Dick Taverner shouted — ■" To the rescue ! to the rescue !" and rushed into the house, followed by the 'prentices, who loudly echoed his cries. " Far let, messieurs ! par id ! — this way, this way V vociferated Cyprien, who met them in the passage; " the Ijowling-alley — there they are !" But the Gascon's dnections were scarcely needed. The clashing of swords would have served to guide the 'prentices to the scene of conflict. 92 THE STAll-CII AMBER. CHAPTER XL JOHN WOLFE. When Jocelyn Moiincliensey called for his reckoning, ^ladame Bonaventure took hiin aside, showng-, by her looks, that she had something important to com- mimicate to him, and began by telling him he was heartily welcome to all he had partaken of at her ordinary, adding, that she considered herself very greatly his debtor for the gallantry and zeal he had displayed in her behalf. " Not that I was in any real peril, my fan- }'Oung sir," she continued, " though I feigned to be so, for I have powerful protectors, as you perceive ; and indeed this was all a preconcerted scheme between my Lord Ptoos and his noble friends to tm-n the tables on the two extortioners. But that does not lessen my gra- titude to you ; and I shall try to prove it. You are in more danger than, perchance, you wot of; and I feel quite sure Sii" Giles means to carry his thi-eat into execution, and to cause your arrest." Seeing him smile disdainfully, as if he had no ap- prehensions, she added, somewhat quickly — " What v.ill your bravery avail against so many, viou heciu THE STAR-CHAMBEll. 93 gentillionime ? Moii Dleu ! nothing. No ! no ! I must get you assistance. Luckily I have some friends at hand, the 'prentices — grands ef fods (ja'dlanh, avec lies estocs ; C^yprien has told me they are here. Most certainly they will take your part. So, Sir Giles shall not carry you off, after all." Jocelyn's Hps again curled with the same disdainful smile as hefore. " Ah ! rons etes trap ft'imralre ! " Madame Bona- venture cried, tapping his arm. " Sit down here for awhile. I will give you the signal when }'ou may depart Avith safety. Do not attempt to stir till then. You vmderstand ?" Jocelyn did not imderstand very clearly; but, with- out making any observation to the contrary, he took the seat pomted out to him. The position was well- chosen, inasmuch as it enabled him to command the movements of the foe, and offered him a retreat throuo'h a side-door, close at hand: thousrh he was natm'ally quite ignorant whither the outlet might conduct him. While this was passing, Sir Giles was engaged in giving directions respecting his partner, whose in- ebriate condition greatly scandalized him ; and it was in pursuance of his orders that Sir Francis was trans- poi-ted to the wdiarf where the misadventure before related befel him. Never for a moment did Sir Giles's watchful eye quit Jocelyn, upon whom he was ready to poimce like a tiger, if the yomig man made any movement to depart; and he only waited till the tavern should be clear of company to effect the seizm-e. 94) THE STAR-CHAMBER. Meanwhile^ tuiother })er.son approaclied the yoims^ man. This was the friendly strano-er in the furred gown and hat cap^ who had sat next him at dmner, and who^ it appeared, was not wilhng to abandon him in his difficulties. Addressing him with much khad- ness, the worthy personage informed him that he was a bookseller, named John Wolfe, and carried on busi- ness at the sign of the Bible and Crown, in Paul's Churchyard, where he shoidd be glad to see the yomig man, whenever he was free to call upon him. " But I cannot disguise from you, jMaster JoceljTi Mounchensey — for your dispute with Su- Francis Mitchell has acquainted me with your name," John Wolfe said — " that your rashness has placed you m imminent peril ; so that there is but little chance for the present of my showing yon the hospitahty and kindness I desire. Sir Giles seems to hover over you as a rapacious vulture might do before making his swoop. Heaven shield you from his talons ! And now, my good young sir, accept one piece of caution fi'om me, which my years and kindly feehngs towards you entitle me to make. An you ^scape this danger, as I trust you may, let it be a lesson to you to put a guard upon your tongue, and not suffer it to outrun your judgment. You are much too rash and im- petuous, and by your folly (nay, do not quarrel -wath me, my young friend — I can give no milder appella- tion to your conduct) have placed yourself in the power of you.r enemies. Not only have you provoked Sir Francis JNIitchcU, whose malice is more easily aroused than appeased, but you have defied Sir Giles THE STAR-CHAMBER. 95 Mompessoiij avIio is equally implacable iii his enmities; and as if two saeli enemies were not enough^ you nmst needs make a thirds yet more dangerous than either." " How so, good Master IVolfe ?" Jocelyn cried. *' To whom do you refer ?" " To v.'hom should I refer, blaster Jocelyn," AYolfe rejoined, "hut to my lord of Buckingham, whom you wantonly insulted? For the latter indiscretion there can he no excuse, whatever there may he for the former ; and it was simple madness to affront a noble- man of his exalted rank, second only in authority to the King himself." " But how have I offended the Marquis ?" demanded Jocelwn, surprised. " Is it possible you can have spoken at random, and without knowledge of the force of your own Vv'ords ?" John Wolfe rejoined, looking hard at him. "It may be so, for you are plainly ignorant of the world. Well, then," he added, lowering his tone, "when you said that these two abominable extortioners were the creatures of some great man, who glozed over theu" villanous practices to the King, and gave a better account of them than they deserve, you were nearer the truth than you imagined ; but it coidd hardly be agreeable to the Marquis to be told this to his face, since it is notorious to all (except to yourself) that he is the man." " Heavens !" exclaimed Jocelyn, " I now see the error I have committed." "A grave error, indeed," rejoined Wolfe, shaking Lis head, " and most difficidt to be repaired — for the 9G THE STAR-CHAMBER. plea of ignorance^ though it may suffice with me, Mnll scarcely avail you with the ^Marquis. Indeed, it can never l)e \irged, since he diso^^^ls any connexion with these men ; and it is suspected that his half-brother. Sir Edward Mlliers, goes between them in all their ■secret transactions. Of this, however, I know nothing personally, and only tell you what I have heard. But if it were not almost treasonable to say it, I might add, that his Majesty is far too careless of the means whereby his exchecpier is enriched, and his favourites gratified ; and, at all events, suffers himself to be too easily imposed upon. Hence all these patents and monopolies imder which we groan. The favomites ■miisf have money ; and as the King has little to give them, they raise as much as they please on the credit of his name. Thus everything is mid ; places, posts, titles, all have their price — bribery and corruption reign ever\'^vhere. The lord-keeper pays a pension to the jMarquis — so doth the attorney-general — and si- mony is openly practised ; for the Bishop of Salisbmy paid him o500/. for his bishopric. But this is not the worst of it. Is it not terrible to think of a proud nobleman, clothed almost with supreme authority, being secretly leagued with sordid w'retches, whose practices he openly discountenances and contemns, and receiving share of their spoil? Is it not yet more terrible to reflect that the royal coffers are in some •degree supplied by similar means ?" "'Tis enough to drive an honest man distracted," Jocelyn said, " and you cannot wonder at my indigna- tion, though you may blame my want of caution. I THE STAR-CHAMBER. 97 have said notliinj^ half so strong as you have just uttered, Master Wolfe." " Ah ! but, my good young sir, I do not publicly proclaim my opinions, as you do. My lord of Buck- ingham's name must no more be called in question than his Majesty's. To associate the Marquis's name ^^'ith those of his known instruments were to give him mortal oiFence. Even to hint at such a connexion is sufficient to provoke his displeasure ! But enough of this. My purpose is not to lecture you, but to be- friend you. Tell me frankly, my good young sir — and be not offended with the offer — will my purse be usefvd to you ? If so, ^tis freely at your service ; and it may help you in yom- present emergency — for though there is not enough in it to bribe the master to forego his purpose against you, there is amply sufficient to procure yom- liberation, privily, from the men." "I thank you heartily, good Master Wolfe, and believe me, I am not withheld by false pride fr(jni accepting your offer," Joeelyn replied ; " but I must trust to my own arm to maintain my liberty, and to my own address to regain it, if I be taken. Again, I thank you, sir." " I grieve that I cannot lend you other aid," JoJm Wolfe replied, looking compassionately at him ; " but my peaceful avocations do not permit me to take any part in personal conflicts, and I am loath to be mixed up in such distm-bances. Nevertheless, I do not like to stand by, and see outrage done." ^"^ Concern yourself no more about me, worthy sir," VOL. I. H 98 THE STAR-CHA3IBEK. interrupted Jocelyn. "Perhaps I shall not be mo- lested, and if I should be, I am well able to take care of myself. Let those who assail me bear the conse- quences." But John Wolfe still ling-ered. " If some of my apprentices were only here/' he said, " and especially that riotous rogue, Dick Taverner, something might be done to help you effectually. — Ha ! what is that uproar ?" as a tumultuous noise, mixed with the cries of " Clubs ! — Clubs !" was heard ^^'ithout, coming from the direction of the Avharf. '^ As I live ! the 'prentices are out, and engaged in some mischievous work, and it will be strange if Dick Taverner be not among them. I A\'ill see what they are about." And as he spoke he hurried to the oriel mndow which looked out upon the vv-liarf, exclaiming — " Ay, ay, — 'tis as I thought. Dick As- among them, and at their head. 'Fore heaven ! they are attacking those ruffianly braggarts from Whitefriars, and are laying about them lustily with their cudgels. Ha! what is this I see ? The Alsatians and the mvTmidons are routed, and the brave lads have captiu*ed Sir Francis Mitchell. What are they about to do v.'ith him? I must go forth and see." His purpose, however, was prevented by a sudden movement on the part of Sir Giles and his attendants. They came in the direction of Jocelyn Mounchensey, v,'ith the evident intention of seizing the young man. Jocelyn instantly sprang to his feet, drew his sword, and pu.t himself in a posture of defence. The myrmi- dons prepared to beat down the young man's blade with their halberds, and secure him, when Joeel^m's THE STAR-CHAMBER. 1)9 cloak was plucked from iDohind, and he heard Madame Bonaventm'e's voice exclaim — " Come this way ! — follow me instantly !" Thus enjoined, he dashed through the door, which was instantly fastened, as soon as he had made good his retreat. h2 100 THE STAR-CTIAIMBER. CHAPTER XII. THE AllKEST ANIJ THE RESCUE. Lt'po Vulp had endeavoured to dissuade Sir Giles from putting' liis design of arresting Jocelyn into immediate execution ; alleging- the great risk he would incur, as well from the resolute character of the yovmg man himself, who Avas certain to offer determined resistance, as from the temper of the company, which, being de- cidedly adverse to any such step, might occasion a distm'hance that would probably result in the prisoner's rescue. " In any case, Sir Giles," said the wily scrivener, *^ let me counsel you to tarry till the greater part of the guests be gone, and the assemblage outside dis- persed ; for I noted many turljulent 'prentices among- the mob, who are sure to be troublesome." '' Since the young man shows no present disposition to quit the house," Sir Giles replied, looking askance at Jocelyn, who just then had moved to another part of the room with Madame Bonaventure, " there is no xu'gency ; and it may be prudent to pause a few mo- ments, as you suggest, good Lupo. But I \\\)l\ not 'uffer him to depart. I perceive, from her gestures THE STAR-CHAMBER. 101 and g'lances, that our tricksy hostess is plotting some scheme with him. Plot away, fair mistress ; you must have more cuuiiin*'' than I give you credit for, if you outwit me a second time in the same day. I can guess what she proposes. You note that side door near them, Lupo ? She is ad\'ising the youth's flight that way ; and he, like a hair-brained fool, will not listen to the suggestion. But it will be well to Avateh the outlet. Hark ye, Lanyere," he added to the promoter, " take three men with j^ou, and go round quickly to the passage with wliich yon door communicates. Sta- tion yom'selves near the outlet ; and if Mounehensey comes forth, arrest him instantly. You see the door I mean ? About it, quick !" And Lanyere instantly departed with three of the myrmidons. ** I would this arrest coxdd be lawfully effected. Sir Giles," said Lupo Vidp, " by a serjeant-at-arms or pursuivant. There would then be no risk. Again I venture to counsel you to proceed regularly. No great delay would be occasioned, if your worship went to Westminster, and made a complaint against the yomig man before the Council. In that case a messenger of the Court M^ould be despatched to attach his person ; and even if he should quit the house in the meanwhile, Lanyere wall keep on his track. That were the surest course. As to the manner of proceeding, I conclude it will be by Ore tenns. It is not likely that this youth's headstrong temper, coupled Avith his fantastic notions of honour, will permit him to deny your wor- ship's accusati; of the Golden Calf by the Israelites. Thus spake offended Heaven : — ^ Let me alone that my ^\Tath may wax hot against them, and that I may consume them.' Grievously will the Lord punish such as are guilty of these sins, for hath He not declared, as we read in Leviticus, ' I will make your cities waste, and luring your sanctuaries to desolation' ? And l^e assured, O daughter, that heavy judgments \vill descend upon the land, if warning be not taken in time.'' " Nay, dear father, I cannot view the matter in the same serious light that you do," Aveline rejoined, " neither do I think evil can be derived from pastimes like the present, unless hj the evil disposed, I must frankly own that it is pleasant to me to witness such innocent enjoyment as is here exliibited ; while as to yon May-pole, A^ith its pretty floral decorations, I can never be brought to regard it as an emblem of super- stition and idolatry. Nevertheless, had you com- manded me to refrain from the sight, I would unhesi- tatingly have obeyed you. But I thought I was fi-ee to follow my own inclinations." " Why, so you were, child," the Puritan rejoined, " because I had full reliance on you, and did not con- ceive you could have been so easily beguiled by Satan. I lament to find you cannot discern the superstition and wickedness lurking within this false, though fair- THE STAR-CHAMBER. 143 seemitig spectacle. Do you not perceive that in setting tip this wooden idol, and worshipping it, these people are returning to the dark and sinful practices of pa- ganism, of which it is an undoul)ted remnant ? If you cannot discern this, I will make it manifest to you anon. But I tell you now briefly," he continued, in a voice of thimder, calculated to reach those at a distance, " that the ceremony is impious ; that those who take part in it are idolaters ; and that those who look on and approve are participators in the sin ; yea, are equal in sin to the actors themselves." Hereupon some murmurs of displeasure arose among the crowd, but they were instantly checked by the curiosity generally felt to hear Aveline's reply, which was delivered in clear and gentle, but distinct tones. " Far l)e it from me to dispute with you, dear father," she said ; " and it is with reluctance that I offer an opinion at all adverse to your own. But it seems to me impossiljle to connect these pastimes with heathenish and superstitious rites; for though they may bear some resemblance to ceremonials performed in honom' of the goddesses Maia and Flora, yet, such creeds being utterly forgotten, and their spirit extinct, it cannot revive in sports that have merely reference to harmless enjoyment. Not one, I am sm-e, of these worthy folk has the slightest thought of impiety." " You know not what you say, girl," the Puritan rejoined, sharply, " The evil spirit is Jiot extinct, and these growing abominations prove it to be again rais- ing its baleful crest to pollute and destroy. Listen to my words, ye vain and foolish ones !" he continued. 144 THE STAR-CHAMBER, aclvancino' to the front of the A\dndow, and stretchino; foi'th his arms towards the assemblage. " Repent ! and amend your ways ere it be too late ! Hew down the offensive idol^ which you term your May-pole^ and east it into the flames ! Cease your wanton sports, your noisy pipings, your profane dances, yom- filthy tippling-s. Hear what the prophet Isaiah saith : — > ' Wo to them that rise up early in the morning, that they may follow strong drink/ And again : — ' Wo to the drunkards of Ephraim/ And I say. Wo unto 3'ou also, for you are like unto those drunkards. ' O do not this al)omiuable thing that my soul hateth.' Be not guilty of the brutish sin of drunkenness. Re- fleet on the words of holy Job, — ' They take the timbrel and harp, and rejoice at the sound of the organ. They spend their days in mirth, and in a moment go do\VTi to the grave.' Hew do\\ai your idol, I say again. Con- sume it utterly, and scatter its ashes to the winds. Strip off the gauds and tinsel in which you have decked your foolish May Queen. Have done Anth your senseless and profane mummeries ; and dismiss your Robin Hoods, your Friar Tucks, and your hobby- horses. Silence your pestilent minstrels, and depart peaceahly to your own homes. Abandon your sinful courses, or assuredly ' the Lord will come upon you miawares, and cut }'ou in siinder, and appoint your portion among unbeHevers.' " So sonorous was the voice of the Pm-itan, so impres- sive were his looks and gestures, that his address com- manded general attention. While he continued to speak, the sports were wholly stopped. The minstrels THE STAR-CHAMBER. 145 left off playing' to listen to liim, and the mummers suspended their merry evolutions round the Maj^-pole. The poor denounced May-Queen, who on the rejection of her nosegay had flown hack to Jocelyn, now looked doubly disconcerted at this direct attack upon her and her tinevy, and pouted her pretty lips in vexation. Dick Taverner, A\'ho stood by her side, seemed disposed to resent the afiront, and shook his flst menacingly at the Puritan. Jocelyn himself was perplexed and an- noyed, for though inclined to take part with the as- semblage, the growing interest he felt in Aveline forbade all interference with her father. VOL. T. 140 THE STAR-CHAMBER. CHAPTER XVI. OF THE SIGN GIVEN BY THE PURITAN TO THE ASSEMBLAGE. MicAXWHiLE a great crowd had collected beneath the window^ and though no interruption was offered to the speaker, it was easy to discern from the angiy coun- tenances of his hearers what was the effect of the address upon them. "Wlien he had done, Hugh Calveley folded his arms upon his breast, and sternly regarded the assemblage. He was well stricken in years, as his grizzled hau* and beard denoted, but neither was his streno-th im- paired, nor the fire of his eye dimmed. Squarely built, with hard and somewhat massive features, strongly stamped A\dth austerity, he Avas distinguished Ijy a soldierlike deportment and manner, while his bronzed countenance, which l>ore upon it more than one cicatrice, showed he must have been exposed to foreign suns, and seen much service. There was great determination about the mouth, and about the physiognomy generally, wliile at the same time there was something- of the wikbiess of fanaticism in his looks. He was habited in THE STAR-CHAMBER. 147 a buff jerkin, witli a brown lackered breast-plate over it, thigh-pieees of a similar colom- and similar material, and stont leathern boots. A broad Ijelt with a heavy- sword attached to it crossed his breast, and round his neck was a plain falling band. You could not regard Hugh Calveley without feeling he was a man to die a martyr in any cause he had espoused. A deep groan was now directed against him. But it moved not a muscle of his rigid countenance. Jocelyn began to fear, from the menacing looks of the crowd, that some violence might be attempted, and he endeavoured to check it. " Bear with him, worthy fi-iends," he cried, " he means you well, though he may reprove you somewhat too sharply.^' " Beshrew him for an envious railer," cried a miUer, " he mars all our pleasures with his peevish humours. He would have us all as discontented with the world as himself — but w^e know better. He uaU not let us have our lawful sports as enjoined by the king himself on Sundays, and he now tries to interfere with our recreations on holidays. A pest upon him for a canker- bitten churl !" " His sullen looks are enough to turn all the cream in the village sour," observed an old dame. " Why doth he not betake himself to the conventicle, and preach there ?" old Greenford cried. " Why should we have all these bitter texts of scriptm-e thrown at our heads? Why should we be likened to the drunkards of Ephraim because we drink our Whitsim- l2 148 THE STAR-CHAMBER. ales ? I have tasted nothing more than my morning cup as yet." " Why should onr May-pole be termed an idol ? Answer me that^ good grandsire ?" Gillian demanded. " Nay, let him who called it so answer thee, child, for I caimot," the old farmer rejoined. " I can see nought idolatrous in it." " Why shovdd our pretty May-Queen be despoiled of her ornaments because they please not his fanatical taste ?" Dick Taverner demanded. " For my part, I can discern no difference between a Pm-itan and a knave, and I would hang both." This sally met Avith a favom'able reception from the crowd, and a voice exclaimed — " Ay, hang all Icnavish Puritans." Again Hugh Calveley lifted up his voice. " Think not to make me afraid," he cried ; " I have confronted armed hosts with boldness when engaged in a worse cause than this, and I am not likely to give way be- fore a base rabble, now that I have Ijecome a soldier of Christ, and fight his battles. I repeat my warnings to you, and will not hold my peace till you give heed to them. Continue not in the sins of the Gentiles, lest their pvmishment come upon you. These are fearful times we live in. London is become another Nineveh, and w^ill be devoured by flames like that great city. It is full of corruption and debauchery, of oppressions, thefts, and deceits. With the prophet Nahum I ex- claim — ' Wo to the city, it is full of lies and robbery !' What griping usury, what extortion are practised mthin it ! What fraud, what injustice, what misrule ! THE STAR-CHAMBER. 149 But the Lord's anger will be awakened against it. Palaces of kings are of no more account in His eyes than cottages of peasants. — ' He cutteth off the spii-its of princes ; he is terriljle to the kings of the earth.' He knoweth no difference between them that sit on thrones, and those that go from door to door. For what saith the prophet Isaiah ? — ' I will punish the stout heart of the King of Assyria, and the glory of his high looks.' Let the great ones of the land be warned as well as the meanest, or judgment will come upon them." ''^Methinks that smacks of treason," cried Dick Taverner. " Our Puritan has quitted us poor fowl to fly at higher game. Hark ye, sir !" he added to Hugh Calveley ; " you woidd not dare utter such words as those in the king's presence." "Thou art mistaken, friend," the other rejoined. " It is my purpose to warn him in terms strong as those I have just used. Why should I hold my peace, when I have a mission from on high ? I shall speak to the king as Nathan spoke to David." " He speaks like a prophet," cried the miller ; " I begin to have faith in him. No doubt the iniquities of London are fearful." " If he preach against extortioners and usurers only, I am with him," Dick Taverner said. "If he rid London of Sir Giles Mompesson and his peers, he mil do good sei-vice — still better, if he vnW put diovnx cor- ruption and injustice as exhibited in the Court of Star- Chambcr — eh. Master Jocelyn Mounchensey ?" At the mention of this name the Puritan appeared 150 THE STAR-CHAMBER. greatly sm-prised, and looked round inquiringly, till his eye alighted upon the yoimg man. After regarding him for a moment fixedly, he de- manded — " Art thou Jocelyn Mounchensey ?" The young man, equally surprised, replied in the affirmative. " The son of Sir Ferdinando ]Momicliensey, of Mas- singham, in Norfolk ?" inquired the Puritan. " The same," Jocelyn answered. "Thy father was my nearest and dearest friend, young man," Hugh Calveley said ; " and thy father's son shall be welcome to my dwelling. Enter, I pray of \'ou. Yet pause for a moment. I have a word more to declare to these people. Ye heed not my words, and make a mock of me," he continued, ad- dressing the assemblage : " but I will give you a sign that I have spoken the truth." " He wi]l bring the de\dl among us, I trow," cried Dick Taverner. " 'Tis to be hoped he will not split the May-pole with a thunderbolt," said the miller. "Nor spoil our Whitsun-ales," cried old Greenford. " Nor lame our hobby-horse," said one of the mummers. "Nor rob me of my wreath and garlands," said Gillian. "That he shall not, I promise you, fair May- Queen !" Dick Taverner rejoined, gallantly. ~ " I will do none of these things. I would not harm you, even if I had the power," the Puritan said. " But I vnW discharge a bolt against the head of yon THE STAR-CHAMBER. 151 idol/' lie added, pointing towards the flower-crowTied summit of the May-pole; "and if I break its neck and cast it dowai, ye \vill owai that a higher hand than, mine directs the blow, and that the superstitious symbol ought not to be left standing." " As to what we may do, or what we may acknow- ledge, we wiW give no promise, ]Master Hugh Cal- veley," rejoined old Greenford. " But e'en let fly thy bolt, if thou wilt." Some dissent was offered to this singular pi'opo- sition, Init the majority of voices overruled it ; and \\ithdra\\Ting for a moment, Hugh Calveley returned mth an arl^alist, which he proceeded dehberately to arm in view of the crowd, and then placed a quarrel A\ithin it. " In the name of the Lord, who cast down the golden idol made by Aaron and the Israelites, I launch this bolt," he cried, as he took aim, and liberated the cord. The short, iron -headed, square -pointed arrow whizzed through the air, and, by the mischief it did as it hit its mark, seemed to confirm the Puritan's denunciation. Striking the May-pole precisely at the summit, it shattered the wood, and brought down the floral .crowm sm-mounting it, as well as the topmost streamers. The spectators stared aghast. " Be warned by this !" thundered Hugh Calveley, with gloomy triumph. "Your idol is smitten — not by my hand, ])ut by His who will chastise your wickedness." 152 TIIK STAR-CHAMBEU. AVliereujiou ho closed the A\dndow, and departed. Presently after\vards, the door was opened by an old, oTave-lookingj decently-elad serving-man. Addressing Jocelyn^ \A'ho had already dismounted and given liis horse in charge to the youth engaged for a similar purpose Ijy Dick Taverner, this personage invited him, in his master's name, to enter; and, Avith a heart throbbing with emotion, the young man complied. Chance seemed to Ijefriend him in a way he could never have anticipated ; and he now hoped to obtain an interview with Aveline. His conductor led him through a passage to a large chamber at the back of the house, with. ^Wndows look- ing upon a garden. The room was panelled with dark shining oak, had a polished floor, an immense chimney-piece, and a moulded ceiling. Within it were a few high-backed chairs, and some other cum- brous furniture ; while on an oak table at the side was spread the simple morning repast of the Puritan and his daughter. But all these things were lost upon Jocehai, who had eyes only for one object. She was there, and how lovely she appeared ! How exquisite in fisjure — hoAv faultless in feature ! Some little embar- rassment was discoverable in her manner as the young man entered, but it (ptickly disappeared. Her father was with her; and, advancing towards Jocelyn, he took him kindly by the hand, and bade him welcome. Tlien, without relmquishing his grasp, he presented the vouno" man to his dauo'hter, savins: — "This is Jocelyn, the son of my dear departed friend. Sir Ferdinando Mounchensey. Some inscrut- THE STAR-CHAMBER. 153. able design of Providence has bronght him hither, and right glad I am to behold him. Years ago, his father rendered me a signal service, which I requited as I best eoidd ; and there is nothing I would not gladly do for the son of such a friend. You will esteem him accordingly, Aveline." ""I Avill not fail in my duty, father," she replied, blushing slightly. And Jocelyn thought these words were the sweetest he had ever heard pronounced. " I would pray you to break your fast with us, if our simple fare will content you," said Hugh Calvele}', pointing to the table. " I am not over-daint}', and shall do ample justice to whatever is set before me," Jocelpi replied, smiling. " It is well," said the Puritan. " I am glad to find the son of my old friend is not a slave to his appetites, as are most of the young men of this generation." With this they approached the board; and, a lengthy grace being pronounced by Hugh Calveley, Jocel}!! sat down by the side of Aveline, scarcely al)le to believe in the realit}- of his own happiness — so like a dream it seemed. 154 THE STAR-CHAMBEll, CHAPTER XVII. A RASH PROMISE. DuEiNG the slender repast^ Jocelyn^ in reply to the inquiries of the Pimtan, explained the twofold motive of his coming to London ; namely, the desire of taking vengeance on his father's enemies, and the hope of obtaining some honourable employment, such as a gentleman might accept. " My chances in the latter respect are not very great/' he said, " seeing I have no powerful friends to aid me in my endeavours, and I must consequently trust to fortune. But as regards my enemies, if I can only win an audience of the king, and plead my cause Isefore him, I do not think he will deny me justice.'^ " Justice !" exclaimed the Puritan with deep scorn. " James Stuart knows it not. An arch-hypocrite, and perfidious as hypocritical, he holdeth as a maxim that Dissimidation is necessary to a Ruler. He has the cowardice and the ferocity of the hyaena. He wiU pro- mise fairly, but his deeds will falsify his words. Recollect how his Judas kiss betrayed Somerset. RecoUect his conduct towards the Gowries. But imagine not. THE STAR-CHAMBER. 155 because you have been evil intreated and oppressed^ that the king will redress your wi'ong-s, and reinstate you in your fallen position. Rather will he take part with the usui'ers and extortioners who have deprived you of yom* inheritance. How many poor wretches doth he daily condemn to the same lingering agonies and certain destruction that he doomed your father. Lamentable as is the good Sir Ferdinando's case, it stands not alone. It is one of many. And many^ many more will be added to the list, if this tyrannical Herodias be siijSered to govern.^' And as if goaded by some stinging thought, that di'ove him nigh distracted, Hugh Calveley arose, and paced to and fro within the chamber. His brow became gloomier and his visage sterner. " Bear with him, good Master Jocelyn," Aveline said, in a low tone. " He hath been unjustly treated by the king, and, as you see, can ill brook the usage. Bear with him, I pray of you." JoceljTi had no time to make reply. Suddenly checking himself, and faxing his earnest gaze upon the young man, the Puritan said — " Give ear to me, my son. If I desired to inflame your breast with rage against this tyrant, I should need only to relate one instance of his cruelty and injustice. I had a friend — a very dear friend," he continued, in a tone of deep pathos — "confined within the Fleet Prison by a decree of the Star-Chaml^er. He was to me as a brother, and to see him graduallj^ pining away cut me to the soul. Proud hy nature, he refused to 150 THE STAR-CHAMBER. abase liimself to his oppressor, and could not be broug-ht to acknowledge A\Tongs he had never committed. Pardon, therefore, was denied him — not pardon merely, but all mitigation of suffering. My friend had been •wealthy ; but hea\y fines and penalties had stripped him of his possessions and brought him to destitution. Lord of an ancient hall, with woods and lands around it, wherein he coidd ride for hours without quitting his OAVTi domains, his territories were now narrowed to a few yards ; w^hile one dark, dreary chamber was alone accorded him. Finding he must necessarily perish, if left to rot there, I prevailed upon him (not without much reluctance on his part) to petition the king for liberation ; and was myself the bearer of his prayer. Earnestly pleading the cause of the imfortunate man, and representing his forlorn condition, I besought his majesty's gracious intercession. But when I had wearied the royal ear with entreaties, the shaii) reply was — ' Doth he make submission ? Will he confess his offence T And as I could only affirm, that as he waK guilty of no crime, so he coidd confess none, the king returned me the petition, coldly obsei-ving — 'The dignity of om' Court of Star-Chamber must be main- tained before all things. He hath been guilty of con- tempt towards it, and must pvLrge him of the ofienee.' ' But the man will die, sire,' I urged, ' if he be not removed from the Fleet. His prison-lodging is near a fold ditch, and he is sick with fever. Neither can he have such aid of medicine or of nursing as his case demands.' ' The greater reason he should relieve him- THE STAR-CHAMBER. 157 self by speedy acknowledgment of the justice of his sentence/ said the king. ' The matter rests not with us, hut with himself.' ' But he is a gentleman, sire/ I persisted, ' to whom truth is dearer than life, and who would rather languish in misery for thrice the term he is likely to last, than forfeit his own self-esteem by admitting falsehood and injustice.' ^Then let him perish in his pride and obstinacy,' cried the king im- patiently. And thereupon he dismissed me." '^ O sir !" exclaimed Jocelyn, rising and throwing his arms round the Puritan's neck ; " you, then, were the friend who tended my poor father in his last moments. Heaven bless you for it !" ''Yes, Jocelyn, it was I who heard your father's latest sigh," the Pmitan replied, retm-ning his embrace, "and your own name was breathed with it. His thoughts were of his son far away — too young to share his distresses, or to comprehend them." ''Alas ! alas!" cried Jocelyn, mournfully. " Lament not for yom- father, Jocelyn," said the Puritan, solemnly ; " he is reaping the reward of his earthly troubles in heaveii ! Be comforted, I say. The tyrant can no longer oppress him. He is beyond the reach of his malice. He can be arraigned at no more unjust triljmials. He is where no cruel and perfidious princes, no iniquitous judges, no griping extortioners shall ever enter." Joceljrn endeavoured to speak, but liis emotion over- powered him. " I have already told you tliat }'our father rendered 158 THE STAR-CHAMBER. me a 861*7106 impossible to be adequately requited/' pursued the Puritan. " What that service was I will one day inform you. Suffice it now^ that it bound me to him in chains firmer than brass. Willino-lv would I have laid down my life for him, if he had desired it. Gladly would I have taken his place in the Fleet Prison if that could have procured him liberation. Unable to do either, I watched over him while he lived — and buried him when dead." " O sir, you have bound me to you as strongly as you were bound to my father/' cried Jocelyn. "Por the devotion shown to him, I hold myself eternally your debtor." The Puritan regarded him steadfastly for a moment. ^'TV'hat if I were to put these professions to the test ?" he asked. " Do so," Jocehoi replied, earnestly. " Islj hfe is yours !" ^' Your life !" exclaimed Hugh Calveley, grasping his arm almost fiercely, while his eye blazed. " Consider what you offer." " I need not consider," Jocelyn rejoined. " I repeat, my life is yours, if you demand it." " Perhaps I sJiall demand it," cried Hugh Calveley. " Ere long, perhaps." " Demand it when you ^\^ll," Jocel}Ti said, " Father !" Aveline interposed, " do not let the young man bind himself by this promise. Eelease him, I pray of you." " The promise cannot be recalled, my child," the THE STAR-CHAMBER. 159 Puritan replied. " But I shall never claim its fulfil- ment save for some hig-h and holy purpose." " Are you sure your purpose is holy,, father ?" Ave- line saidj in a low tone. "What mean you, child?" cried Hugh Calveley, knitting his brows. " I am but an instnmient in the hands of Heaven, appointed to do its Avork; and as directed, so I must act. Heaven may make me the scourge of the oppressor and evil-doer, or the sword to slay the tyrant. I may die a martyr for my faith, or do battle for it \<\i\\ carnal weapons. For all these I am ready; resigning myself to the will of God. Is it for nothing, think^st thou, that this yoimg man — the son of my dear departed friend — has been brought hither at this particiJar conjuncture ? Is it for nothing that, wholly unsolicited, he has placed his life at my disposal, and in doing so has devoted himself to a great cause ? Like myself, he hath wrongs to avenge, and the Lord of Hosts will give him satisfaction." " But not in the way you propose, father," Aveline rejoined. " Heaven will assm-edly give you both satis- faction for the wrongs you have endm-ed; but it must choose its own means of doing so, and its own time." " It Jiath chosen the means, and the time is comins" quickly," cried the Puritan, his eye again kindling ■with, fanatical light. '' ' The Lord vAW cut off from Israel head and tail.^ " " These things are riddles to me," observed Jocelpi, Avho had listened to what was passing with great uneasiness. " I would solicit an explanation ?" IGO THE STAR-CHAMBER. " You shall have it^ my son/' Ilug-li Calveley replied. " But not now. My hour for solitary prayer and self- ■<;ommunion is comCj and I must withdraw to my chamher. Go forth into the garden, Jocelyn — and do thou attend him, Aveline. I will join you when my devotions are ended.'' So sajdng", he quitted the room, while the youthful pair went forth as enjoined. THE STAR-CHAMBER. 161 CHAPTER XVIII. HOW THE PROMISE WAS CANCELLED. It was a large garden^ once fairly laid out and planted, but now sadly neglected. The broad terrace walk was overgrown with weeds; the stone steps and the carved balusters were broken in places, and covered with moss: the once smooth lawn was unconscious of the scythe ; the parterres had lost their quaint devices ; and the knots of flowers — ^tre-foil, cinque-foil, diamond and cross-bow — were no longer distinguishable in their original shapes. The labyrinths of the maze were inextricably tangled, and the long green alleys wanted clearing ou.t. But all this neglect passed unnoticed by Jocelyn, so completely was he engrossed by the fair creature at his side. Even the noise of the May-games, which, temporarily interrupted by Hugh Calveley, had recom- menced with greater vie^our than ever — the rino'lns^ of the church bells, the shouts of the crowd, and the sounds of the merry minstrelsy, scarcely reached his ear. Eor the first time he experienced those delicious sensations which new-born love excites within the VOL. I. M 162 THE STAR-CHAMBER. breast; and the enchantment operated upon him so rapidly and so strongly, that he was overpowered by its spell almost before aware of it. It seemed that he had never really lived till this moment; never, at least, comprehended the bliss afforded by existence in the companionship of a being able to awaken the transports he now experienced. A new world seemed suddenly opened to him, full of love, hope, sunshine,' of which he and Aveline were the sole inhabitants. Hitherto his life had been devoid of any great emo- tion. The one feeling latterly pervading it had been a sense of deep ^va■ong, coupled with the thirst of ven- geance. No tenderer influence had softened his almost ruirffed nature : and his breast continued arid as the desert. Now the rock had been stricken, and the living waters gushed forth abundantly. Not that in Norfolk, and even m the remote part of the county where his life had been passed, female beauty was rare. Nowhere, indeed, is the flower of loveliness more thickly sown than in that favoured part of our isle. But all such young damsels as he had beheld had failed to move him ; and if any shaft had been aimed at his breast it had fallen wide of the mark. Jocelyn IMomichensey was not one of those highly susceptible natures — quick to receive an impression, quicker to lose it. Neither woidd he have been readily caught by the Im-es spread for youth by the designing of the sex. Imbued with something of the antique spirit of chivalry, which yet, though but slightly, influenced the age in Avhich he lived, he was ready and able to pay fervent homage to his mistress's sovereign beauty THE STAR-CHAMBER. 163 (supposing he had one) , and maintain its supremacy against all questioners^ but utterly incapable of wor- shipping at any meaner shrine. Heart-whole^ there- fore, when he encountered the Puritan's daughter, he felt that in her he had found an object he had long sought, to whom he could devote himself heart and soul ; a maiden whose beauty was without peer, and whose mental qualities corresponded with her personal attractions. Nor was it a delusion under which he laboured. Aveline Calveley was all his imagination painted her. Pm-ity of heart, gentleness of disposition, intellectual endowments, were as clearly revealed by her speaking countenance as the innermost depths of a fountain are by the pellucid medium through which they are viewed. Hers was a virgin heart, which, like his own, had re- ceived no pre\dous impression. Love for her father alone had swayed her; though all strong demonstra- tions of ' filial affection had been checked by that father's habitually stern manner. Brought up by a female relative in Cheshire, who had taken charge of her on her mother's death, which had occurred durin her infancy, she had known little of her father till late years, when she had come to reside with him, and, though devout by nature, she could ill reconcile herself to the gloomy notions of religion he enter- tained, or to the ascetic mode of life he practised. With no desire to share in the pomps and vanities of life, she could not be persuaded that cheerfulness was incompatible with righteousness; nor could all the M 2 or*- 164 THE STAU-CHAMBER. railing's slie heard against them make her hate those who differed from her in reHgious opinions. Still she made no complaint. Entirely obedient to her father's will, she accommodated herself, as far as she could, to the rule of life prescribed by him. Aware of his pertinacity of opinion, she seldom or ever argued a point with him, even if she thought right might be on her side ; holding it better to maintain peace by submission, than to hazard wi'ath by disputation. The discussion on the May-games was an exception to her ordinary conduct, and formed one of the few instances in which she had ventured to assert her own opinion in opposition to that of her father. Of late, indeed, she had felt great uneasiness about him. Much changed, he seemed occupied by some dark, dread thought, which partially revealed itself in wrathful exclamations and muttered menaces. He seemed to believe himself chosen by Heaven as an instrument of vengeance against oppression ; and her fears were excited lest he might commit some terrible act under this fatal impression. She was the more con- firmed in the idea from the eagerness with which he had grasped at Jocelyn's rash promise, and she determined to put the yoimg man upon his guard. If, in order to satisfy the reader's cmnosity, we are obliged to examine the state of Aveline's heart, in reference to Jocelyn, we must state candidly that no such ardent flame was kindled within it as burnt in the breast of the young man. That such a flame might arise was very possible, nay, even probable, seeing that the sparks of love were there ; and mate- THE STAR-CHAMBER. 1G5 rial for combustion was by no means wanting. All that was required was, that those sparks should be gently fanned — not heedlessly extinguished. Little was said by the two yoimg persons, as they slowly paced the terrace. Both felt embarrassed: Jocelyn longing to give utterance to his feelings, but restrained by timidity — Aveline trembling lest more might be said than she ought to hear, or if obliged to hear, than she could rightly answer. Thus they walked on in silence. But it was a silence more elo- quent than words, since each comprehended what the other felt. How much they would have said was pro- claimed by the impossibility they found of saying anything ! At length, Jocelpi stopped, and plucking a flower, observed, as he proffered it for her acceptance, " My fu'st offering to you was rejected. May this be more fortunate." ^^Make me a promise, and I wiU accept it," she replied. " Willingly," cried Jocelyn, venturing to take her hand, and gazing at her tenderly. " Most woUingly." "You are far too ready to promise," she rejoined, with a sad, sweet smile. "A^Tiat I desire is this. Recal your hasty i)ledge to my father, and aid me in dissuading him from the enterprise in which he would engage you." As the words were uttered, the Pmitan stepped from behind the alley which had enabled him to ap- proach them unperceived, and overhear their brief converse. 166 THE STAR-CHAMBER. " Hold V lie cxelaimedj in a solemn tone^ and re- gai'ding" Jocel}Ti with great earnestness. " That pro- mise is sacred. It was made in a father's name, and must be fulfilled. As to my pm'pose, it is unchange- able." The enthusiast's influence over Joeeljoi woiild have proved irresistible but for the interposition of Aveline. " Be not controlled by him/' she said in a low tone to the young man; adding to her father, "for my sake, let the promise be cancelled." " Let him ask it, and it shall be," rejoined the Puritan, gazing steadily at the yovmg man, as if he would penetrate his soul. "Do you hesitate?" he cried, in accents of deep disappointment, perceiving Jocelyn waver. "You cannot misunderstand his wishes, father," said Avehne. " Let him speak for himself," Hugh Calveley ex- claimed, angrily. " Joceljai Mounchensey !" he con- tinued, folding his arms upon his breast, and regard- ing the young man fixedly as before, " son of my old friend ! son of liim who died in my arms ! son of him whom I committed to the earth ! if thou hast aught of thy father's true spirit, thou wilt rigidly adhere to a pledge volimtarily given, and which, uttered as it was uttered by thee, has all the sanctity, all the bind-- ing force of a vow before Heaven, where it is regis- tered, and approved by him who is gone before us." Greatly moved by this appeal, Jocelyn might have complied with it, but Avehne again interposed. "Not so, father," she cried. "The spirits of the THE STAR-CHAMBER. 167 just made perfect — and of such is the friend you men- tion — would never approve of the design with which you would linlv this young man, in consequence of a promise raslily made. Discharge him from it, I en- treat you." Her energy shook even the Puritan's fii'mness. "B"e it as thou wilt/' daughter, he said, after the pause of a few moments, during which he waited for Jocelyn to speak; but, as the young man said nothing, he rightly interpreted his silence, — "be it as thou wilt, since he, too, wills it so. I give him back liis promise. But let me see him no more." " Sir, I beseech you " cried Joceljoi. But he was cut short by the Puritan, who, turning from him contemptuously, said to his daughter — " Let him depart immediately." Aveline signed to the young man to go ; but find- ing him remain motionless, she took him by the hand, and led him some Avay along the terrace. Then, re- leasing her hold, she bade him farewell ! " Wherefore have you done this ?" inquired Jocelyn, reproachfully. " Question me not ; but be satisfied I have acted for the best," she replied. " O Jocelyn !" she con- tinued anxiously, " if an opportunity should occur to you of serving my father, do not neglect it." " Be assured I wiU not," the yoimg man replied. " Shall we not meet again ?" he asked, in a tone of deepest anxiety. "Perhaps," she answered. "But you must go. My father will become impatient. Again farewell !" IGS ■ THE STAR-CHAMBER. On this tliey separated ; the young man sorrowfully departing, while her footsteps retreated in the opposite direction. Meanwhile the May games went forward on the green with increased spirit and merriment_, and with- out the slightest hinderance. More than once the mummers had wheeled their mazy rounds, with Gil- lian and Dick Taverner footing it merrily in the midst of them. More than once the audacious 'prentice, now become desperately enamoured of his pretty partner, had ventm-ed to steal a kiss from her lips. More than once he had Avhispered words of love in her ear; though, as yet, he had obtained no tender response. Once — and once only — had he taken her hand; but then he had never quitted it afterwards. In vain other swains claimed her for a dance. Dick refused to surrender his prize. They breakfasted to- gether in a little bower made of green boughs, the most dehghtful and lover-like retreat imaginable. Dick's appetite, fmious an hour ago, was now clean gone. He could eat nothing. He subsisted on love alone. But as she was prevailed upon to sip from a foaming tankard of Whitsun-ale, he quaffed the remainder of the liquid ^^ith rapture. This done, they resumed their merry sports, and began to dance again. The bells continued to ring blithely, the assemblage to shout, and the minstrels to play. A strange contrast to what was passing in the Puritan's garden. THE STAR-CHAMBER. 169 CHAPTER XIX. THEOBALDS PALACE. The magnificent palace of Theobalds^ situated near Cheshimt, in Hertfordshire, originally the residence of the great Lord Treasurer Burleigh, and the scene of his frequent and sumptuous entertainments to Queen Elizabeth and the ambassadors to her Court, when she '^was seen," says Stow, "in as great royalty, and served as bountifully and magnificently, as at any other time or place, all at his lordship's charge ; with rich shows, pleasant devices, and all manner of sports, to the great delight of her JNIajesty and her whole train, with great thanks from all who partook of it, and as great commendations from all that heard of it abroad :" — this famous and delightfid palace, with its stately gardens, wherein Elizabeth had so often walked and held converse with her faithful counsellor; and its noble parks and chases, well stocked with deer, wherein she had so often hunted; came into pos- session of James the First, in the manner we shall proceed to relate, some years before the date of this history. James first made acquaintance with Theobalds 170 THE STAll-CH AMBER. dm-ing- liis progress from Scotland to assume the English erown^ and it was the last point at which he halted before entering the capital of his new domi- nions. Here, for four days, he and his crowd of noble attendants were guests of Sir Robert Cecil, afterwards Earl of Salisbmy, who proved himself the worthy son of his illustrious and hospitable sire by entertaining the monarch and his numerous train in the same princely style that the Lord Treasurer had ever displayed towards Queen EHzabeth. An eye- witness has described the King^s arrival at Theobalds on this occasion. "Thus, then," says John Savile, " for his Majesty^ s coming up the walk, there came before him some of the nobility, barons, knights, esquires, gentlemen, and others, amongst whom was the sheriff of Essex, and most of his men, the trvmi- pets sounding next before his highness, sometimes one, sometimes another: his Majesty riding not con- tinually betwixt the same two, Ijut sometimes one, sometimes another, as seemed best to his highness; the whole nobility of our land and Scotland round about him obser^^ng no place of superiority, all bare- headed, all of whom alighted from their horses at their entrance into the first court, save only his Ma- jesty alone, who rid along stilL four noblemen laying their hands upon his steed, two before and two behind. In this manner he came to the court door, where I myself stood. At the entrance into that coirrt stood many noblemen, amongst whom was Sir Robert Cecd, who there meeting his Majesty, con- ducted him into his house, all which was practised THE STAR-CHAMBER. 171 with as great applause of the people as could be, hearty prayer, and throwing up of hats. His Ma- jesty had not stayed above an hour in his chamber, but hearing the multitude throng so fast into the uppermost court to see his highness, he showed him- self openly out of his chamber window by the space of half an hour together ; after which time he went into the labyrinth-like garden to walk, where he secreted himself in the Meander^s compact of bays, rosemary, and the like overshadowing his walk, to defend him from the heat of the sun till supper time, at which was such plenty of i^rovision for all sorts of men in their due places as struck me with admiration. And first, to begin Avith the ragged regiments, and such as were debarred the privilege of any court, these were so sufficiently rewarded with beef, veal, mutton, bread, and beer, that they sung holiday every day, and kept a continual feast. As for poor maimed and dis- tressed soldiers, which repaired thither for mainte- nance, the -wine, money, and meat which they had in very bomiteous sort, hath become a sufficient spur to them to blaze it abroad since their coming to Lon- don." The reader will marvel at the extraordinary and unstinting hospitality practised in those days, which, as we have shoAvn, was exhil^ited to all comers, irrespective of rank, even to the " ragged regiments,'* and which extended its bounties in the shape of alms to the wounded and disabled veteran. We find no parallel to it in modern times. Theobalds produced a highly favom-able impression upon James, who, passionately attached to the chase. 172 THE STAR-CHAMBER. saw in its well-stocked parks the means of gratifying his tastes to the fullest extent. Its contiguity to En- field Chase was also a great recommendation ; and its situation_, beautiful in itself, was retired^ and yet within easy distance of the metropolis. It appeared to him to combine all the advantages of a royal hunting seat with all the splendours of a palace ; and his predi- lections were confirmed by a second visit paid by him to it in 160Gj when he was accompanied by his brother-in- laW; Christianus, King of Denmark^ and when the two monarchs were gloriously entertained by the Earl of Salisbuiy. The Danish king drank inordinately : so did the whole of his suite ; and they soon inoculated the Enghsh Court with their sottish tastes. Bonnie King Jamie himself got/ou twice a-day ; and, melan- choly to relate J the ladies of the Coui-t followed the royal example, and, " abandoning their sobriety, were seen to roll about in intoxication." So says Sir John Harington, who has given a very diverting account of the orgies at Theobalds, and the inebriate extrava- gances of Christiamxs. " One day," writes Sir John, " a great feast was held ; and after dinner the repre- sentation of Solomon's Temple and the coming of the Queen of Sheba was made, or (as I may better say) was meant to have been made, before their Majesties, by device of the Earl of Salisbury and others. But alas ! as all earthly things do fail to poor mortals in enjoyment, so did prove om* presentment thereof. The lady that did play the Queen's part did carry most precious gifts to both their Majesties, but forgetting the steps arising to the canopy, overset her casliet into THE STAR-CHAMBER. 173 his Danish Majesty^s lap, and fell at his feet, though I rather think it was into his face. Much was the hurry and confusion. Cloths and napkins were at hand to make all clean. His Majesty then got up, and would dance with the Queen of Sheha ; but he fell down and humbled himself before her, and was carried to an inner chamber, and laid on a bed of state. The entertain- ment and show went forward, and most of the pre- senters went backward, or fell down; wine did so occupy their upper chambers." Worthy Sir John seems to have been greatly scandalized, as he well might be, at these shameless proceedings, and he exclaims pathetically, "The Danes have again conquered the Britons ; for I see no man, or woman either, that can command himself or herself." Nor does he fail to contrast these "strange pageantries" with what occvirred of the same sort, in the same place, in Queen Elizabeth's time, observing, " I never did see such lack of good order, discretion and sobriety as I have now done." Having set his heart upon Theobalds, James offered the Earl of Salisbury, in exchange for it, the palace and domains of Hatfield; and the proposal being accepted (it could not very well be refused), the delivery of the much-coveted place was made on the 22nd May, 1607; the Prince JoinviUe, brother to the Duke de Guise, being present on the occasion, where fresh festivities were held, accompanied by an indifferent masque from Ben Jonson. Whether the King: or the Earl had the best of the bargain, we are not prepared to decide. Enchanted with his acquisition, James commenced 174 THE STAR-CHAMBER. tlie work of improvement and embellishment by enlarging the park^ appropriating a good slice of Enfield Chase^ mth parts of Northaw and Cheshunt Commons, and surrounding the whole with a high brick wall ten miles in cu'cumference. Within this ring he found ample scope for the indulgence of his limit- ing propensities, since it contained an almost inexhaus- tible stock of the finest deer in the kingdom ; and within it might be heard the sound of his merry horn, and the baying of his favom-ite stag hounds, whenever he could escape from the cares of state, or the toils of the council-chamber. His escapes from these demands upon his time were so frequent, and the attraction of the woods of Theobalds so irresistible, that remon- strances were made to him on the subject ; but they proved entirely ineffectual. He declared he would rather return to Scotland than forego his amusements. Theobalds, in the time of its grandeur, might be styled the Fontainebleau of England. Though not to be compared with Windsor Castle in grandem- of situa- tion, or magnificence of forest scenery, still it was a stately residence, and worthy of the monarch of a mighty country. Crowned with four square towers of considerable height and magnitude, each with a lion and vane on the top, it had besides, a large, lantern- shaped central turret, proudly domineering over the others, and " made with timber of excellent workman- ship, curiously wrought with divers pinnacles at each corner, wherein were hung twelve bells for chimage, and a clock with chimes of sundry work." The whole structm-e was built, says the sm'vey, "of excellent THE STAR-CHAMBER. 175 brick, ^Yith coigns, jambs, and cornices of stone." Approached from the south by a noble avenue of trees, planted in double rows, and a mile in length, it pre- sented a striking and most picturesque appearance, with its lofty towers, its great gilded vanes, supported, as we have said, by lions, its crowd of twisted chimneys, its leaded and arched walks, its balconies, and its immense bay windows. Nor did it lose its majestic and beau- tiful aspect as you advanced nearer, and its vast pro- portions became more fully developed. Then you perceived its grand though irregular fa9ades, its enor- mous gates, its cloistered walks, and its superb gardens; and comprehended that with its five courts and the countless apartments they contained, to say nothing of the world of offices, that the huge edifice comprised a town within itself — and a well-peopled town too. The members of the household, and the various retainers connected with it, were multitudinous as the rooms themselves. One charm and peculiarity of the palace, visible from without, consisted in the arched walks before referred to, placed high up on the building, on every side. Screened from the weather, these walks looked upon the difierent courts and gardens, and commanded exten- sive views of the lovely sylvan scenery around. Hence Cheshunt and Waltham Abbey, Enfield, and other surrounding villages, could be distinguished through the green vistae of the park. On the south, facing the grand avenue, was " a large open cloister, built upon several large fair pillars of stone, arched over with seven arches, with a fair rail, 176 THE STAR-CHAMBER. and Lalusters, well painted with tlie Kings and Queens of England, and the pedigree of the old Lord Burleigh, and divers other ancient families." The body of the palace consisted of two large quad- rangles : one of which, eighty-six feet square, was denominated the Fountain Court, from the circum- stance of a fountain of black and white marble standing -svithin it. The other quadrangle, somewhat larger, being one hundred and ten feet square, was called the Middle Court. In addition to these, there were three other smaller com-ts, respectively entitled the Dial Com-t, the Buttery Court, and the Dove-house Court, wherein the offices were situated. On the east side of the Fountain Court stood an arched cloister ; and on the ground-floor there was a spaciovis hall, paved with marble, and embellished vnth. a curiously carved ceiling. Adjoining it were the apartments assigned to the Earl of Salisbury as Keeper of Theobalds, the council-chamber, and the chambers of Sir Lems Lewkener, Master of the Ceremonies, and Sir John Finett. Above was the presence-chamber, wainscoted w^th oak, painted in liver-colour and gilded, having rich pendants from the ceiling, and vast "wandows resplendent with armorial bearings. Near this were the privy-chamber and the king's bed- chamber, together with a wide gallery, one hundred and twenty-three feet in length, wainscoted and roofed like the presence-chamber, but yet more gor- geously fretted and painted. Its walls were ornamented with stags' heads with branching antlers. On the upper floor were the rooms assigned to the Duke of Lennox, THE STAR-CHAMBER. 177 as Lord Chamberlain, and close to them was one of the external leaded walks before alluded to, sixty-two feet long and eleven wide, Avliich, from its eminent position, carried the gaze to Ware. In the Middle Court were the Queen's apartments, comprising her chapel, presence-chamber, and other rooms, and over them a gallery nearly equal in length to that reserved for the King, In this quadrangle, also, were Prince Charles's lodgings. Over the latter was the Green Gallery, one himdred and nine feet in length, and proportionately wide. And above the gallery was another external covered walk, wherein were two " lofty arches of brick, of no small ornament to the house, and rendering it comely and pleasant to all that passed by." The gardens were enchanting, and in perfect keeping with the palace. Occupying several acres, they seemed infinitely larger than they were, since they abounded in intricate alleys, labyrinths, and mazes ; so that you were easily lost within them, and sometimes wanted a clue to come forth. They contained some fine canals, fountains, and statues. In addition to the great gar- dens were the priory gardens, with other inclosures for pheasants, aviaries, and menageries ; for James was very fond of wild beasts, and had a collection of them worthy of a zoological garden. In one of his letters to Buckingham, when the latter was at Madrid, we find him inquiring about the elephant, camels, and wild asses. He had always a camel-house at Theobalds. To close our description, we may add that the tennis- VOL, I. N 178 THE STAR-CHAMBER. courts manege, stable^ kennels, and falconry were on a scale of magnitude proportionate to the palace. Beneath the wide-spreading branches of a noble elm, forming part of the great avenue, and standing at a short distance from the principal entrance to the palace, were collected together, one pleasant afternoon in May, a small group of persons, consisting ahnost entirely of the reader's acquaintances. Chief amongst them was Joeelyn Mounchensey, who, having dis- mounted and fastened his horse to the branch, was leaning against the large trunk of the tree, contem- plating the magnificent structure we have attempted to describe. Unacquainted as yet with its internal splendours, he had no difficidty in comprehending them from what he beheld from without. The entrance gates were open, and a wide archway beyond leading to the great quadrangle, gave him a view of its beau- tiful marble foimtain in the midst, ornamented with exquisite statues of Venus and Cupid. Numerous, officers of the household, pages, ushers, and serving- men in the royal liveries, with now and then some, personage of distinction, were continually passing across the Fountain Com-t. Gaily attii-ed courtiers, in doublets of satin and mantles of velvety were loimging in the balconies of the presence-chamber, staring at Jocelpi and his companions for want of better occupa- tion. Other young nobles, accompanied by richly- habited dames — some of them the highest-born and loveliest in the land — were promenading to and fro upon the garden terrace on the right, chattering and laughing loudly. There was plenty of life and move- THE STAR-CHAMBER. 179 ment everywhere. Even in the Lord Chamberlain's walkj which, as we have said, was contrived in the upper part of the structure, and formed a sort of ex- ternal gallery, three persons might be discerned; and to save the reader any speculation, we will tell him that these persons were the Duke of Lennox (Lord Chamberlain), the Conde de Gondomar (the Spanish lieger-ambassador) , and the Lord Roos. In front of the great gates were stationed four warders, with the royal badge woven in gold on the front and back of their crimson doublets, with roses in their velvet hats, roses in their buskins, and halberts over their shoul- ders. Just within the gates stood a gigantic porter, a fall head and shoulders taller than the burly warders themselves. From the summit of the lofty central tower of the palace floated the royal banner, discernible by all the country round. On the other side of the tree against which Jocelyn was leaning, and looking down the long avenue, rather than towards the palace, stood Dick Taverner, who, however, bestowed little attention upon his master, being folly occupied by a more attractive object close at hand. Dickon, it appeared, had succeeded in in- ducing Gillian Greenford to accompany him in the expedition to Theobalds, and as the fair damsel could not of course go alone, she had cajoled her good- natured old grandsire into conveying her thither ; and she was now seated behind him upon a piUion placed on the back of a strong, rough-coated horse. Dick was in raptures at his success. The ride from Tot- N 2 180 THE STAR-CHAMBER. tenham had been delightful. They had tarried for a short time to drink a cup of ale at the Bell at Edmon- ton, where Dick meant to have breakfasted, though chance had so agreeably prevented him, and where the liquor was highly approved by the old farmer, who became thenceforth exceedingly chatty, and talked of nothing else but good Queen Bess and her frequent visits to Theobalds in the old Lord Burleigh^s time, during the rest of the jom-ney. Little heed was paid to his garrulity by the young couple. They let him talk on, feigning to listen, but in reality noting scarce a word he said. As they entered the park of Theobalds, however, they found their tongues, and Gillian be- came loud in her admiration of the beautiful glades that opened before them, and of the dappled denizens of the wood that tripped lightsomely across the sward, or hurried towards the thickets. The park, indeed, looked beautiful with its fine oaks in their freshly- opened foliage of the tenderest green, its numerous spreading beeches, its scattered thorns white wdth blossom^, and the young fern just sj)ringing from the seed in the brakes. No wonder Gillian was delighted. Dick was equally enchanted, and regretted he was not like King James, master of a great park, that he might hunt within it at his pleasure. Of course, if he had been king, Gillian would naturally have been his queen, and have hunted with him. Old Green- ford, too, admired the scene, and could- not but admit that the park was improved, though he uttered some- thing like a groan as he thought that Queen Elizabeth and the Lord Treasm'er could be seen in it no longer. THE STAR-CHAMBER. 181 After riding for a couple of miles along a road which led them over beautifully undulating ground^ affording glimpses of every variety of forest scenery, sometimes plunging them into the depths of groves, where the path was covered by over-arching trees — sometimes crossing the open chace, studded by single aged oaks of the largest size — sometimes skirting the margin of a pool, fringed with flags, reeds, and bulrushes for the protection of the water-fowl — now passing the large heronry, to the strict preservation of which James attached the utmost importance ; they at length ap- proached the long avenue leading to the palace. At its entrance they found Jocelyn waiting for them. The young man, who cared not for their company, had ridden on in advance. The strange events of the morning gave him plenty of material for reflection, and he longed to commune with himself. Accordingly, when the others stopped at Edmonton, he quitted them, promising to halt till they came up, before entering the precincts of the palace. If his ride was not so agreeable as theirs, it at least enabled him to regain, in some degree, his composure of mind, which had been greatly disturbed by his abrupt parting with Aveline. Her image was constantly before him, and refusing to be dismissed, connected itself wdth every object he beheld. At first he despaired of meeting her again ; but as he gradually grew calmer, his hopes revived, and difficulties which seemed insuperable began to disperse. By the time Dick Taverner and his companions came up, he felt some disposition to talk, and Gillian's hearty merriment and high spirits 182 THE STAR-CHAMBER. helped to enliven him. Ha\dng ascertained^ from one of the royal keepers whom he had encountered^ that the king, \\dtli a large company, was out hawking on the banks of the New River, which was cut through the park, and that he would in all probability return through the great avenue to the palace, he proposed that they should station themselves somewhere within it, in order to see him pass. This arrangement pleased all parties ; so proceeding slowly up the avenue^ they took up a position as described. More than an hour, however, elapsed, and still James, who no doubt was pleased with his sporty came not. Without being aware of their high quality, or having the slightest notion that the Conde de Gondomar was one of them, Jocelyn had remarked the three per- sonages in the Lord Chamberlain^s Walk. He had seen them pause, and apparently look towards the little group of which he himself formed part. Shortly after this, two of the party retired, leaving the third alone in the gallery, By-and-by, these two indi- viduals were seen to cross the Fountain Court, and passing through the great gates, to direct their steps towards the avenue. As they approached, Jocelyn recognised one of them as Lord Eoos, whom he had seen play so singular a part at Madame Bonaventure's ordinary. The other was wholly unknown to him. But that he was a person of the utmost distinction he felt convinced, as well from his haughty bearing and sumptuous attire .as fi'om the evident respect paid him by his companion* THE STAR-CHAMBER. 183 In stature he was rather shorty being somewhat under the ordinary standard ; but his figure was admirably- proportioned^ and was displayed to the greatest ad- vantage by his rich habiliments. His doublet was of sea-green satin^ embroidered with silver and black, with rich open sleeves, and his Spanish cloak was of velvet of the same colour, and similarly embroidered. His hose were of tawny silk, and the plumes in his bonnet black, striped with white. He was decorated with the order of the Golden Fleece, and bore at his side a genuine blade of Toledo, with a handle of rarest workmanship. Round his throat he wore a large triple ruif, edged with pointed lace. His face was oval in shape, his complexion of a rich olive hue, his eyes large, dark, and keen, his features singularly handsome, and his looks penetrating. His hair was raven black, cut short, and removed from the fore- head. Lord Roos and his companion passed close to Joce- lyn without appearing to notice him ; but they halted before Gillian, regarding her with insolent admiration. Evidently she was the object that had brought them forth. The poor damsel was terribly confused by their ardent glances and libertine scrutiny, and blushed to her very temples. As to Dick Taverner, he trembled with rage and jealousy, and began to repent having brought his treasm-e into such a dangerous neigh- bourhood. The person who seemed to be most struck with Gillian's charms was the wearer of the Spanish mantle. "En verdad !" he exclaimed, " that is the loveliest 184 THE STAR-CHAMBER. piece of rusticity I have seen since I came to Eng- land. I thought mine eyes did not deceive me, as to her beauty, when I caught sight of her from the Lord Chamberlain's gallery.'' " The Conde de Gondomar hath ever an eaa-le's eye for a pretty woman/' Lord Roos replied, laugh- ing. " The Conde de Gondomar !" mentally ejaculated Jocelyn, who had overheard what he said. " Why, this is he to whom the ring must be shown. The opportunity must not be lost." Accordingly, regardless of the impropriety of the proceeding, he uncovered his head, and advancing to- wards the Spaniard, said — " I believe I have the honour of addressing the Conde de Gondomar?" " Wlaat means this intrusion, sir ?" Lord Roos demanded, insolently. " What have you to say to his excellency ?" " I bring him a token, my lord," the young man replied, exhibiting the ring, given him by the masked horseman, to the ambassador. " Ha !" exclaimed De Gondomar, glancing at the ring, and then regarding Jocel}ni steadfastly, " I must speak with this yoimg man, my lord." " And abandon the damsel ?" demanded Lord Roos. " No — no — you must take care of her," De Gon- domar replied, in a low tone. " Can you not induce Lady Exeter to take her into her service ?" " I will try," Lord Roos replied. " And see !" he added, pointing down the avenue, " the royal party is THE STAR-CHAMBEU. 185 returning, so I can at once ascertain whether her ladyship will second your excellency's designs." " Do so/' said De Gondomar, " and I shall be for ever indebted to you. This gu'l has quite taken my fancy, and I must not lose her. And now, sir/' he added, stepping aside with Jocelyn, " you have brought me the token from my assm'ed agent, and I under- stand from it that you are a person upon whom I may rely." " In aU that beseems a gentleman and a man of honour and loyalty, your excellency may rely on me," Jocelyn replied. " I shall require nothing inconsistent with those principles," the Spanish Ambassador said. " This point disposed of, let me know how I can serve you, for I presume you have some request to prefer ?" " Your excellency can very materially serve me," Jocelyn returned. " I am in danger." " I thought as much," De Gondomar observed, with a smile. " Since you have placed yourself iinder my protection, I will do my best to hold you harmless. But who is your enemy ?" " I have two deadly enemies. Sir Giles Mompesson and Sir Francis Mitchell," Jocelyn rejoined. " I know them well — instruments of Buckingham," said De Gondomar. " They are, indeed, dangerous enemies." " I have another yet more dangerous," returned Jocelyn. " I have reason to fear that, by boldness of speech, I have incurred the enmity of the Marquis of Buckingham himself." 186 THE STAR-CHAMBER. " All ! this, indeed, is serious/' said De Gondomar. " I am threatened with arrest by tlie Star-Cham- ber/' pursued Jocelpi ; " so your excellency will per- ceive that my position is fraught mth extreme peril. Still, I persuade myself, if I could obtain a hearing of the Icing, I should be able to set my enemies at de- fiance and obtain my right." De Gondomar smiled somewhat scornfully. " You will obtain little in that way," he said, '' and yom- enemies will crush you effectually. But you must explain to me precisely how you are circum- stanced, and I will then consider what can be done for you. And begin by acquainting me with your name and condition, for as yet I am entirely ignorant whom I am addi-essing." Upon this Jocelyn succinctly related to the ambas- sador all such particidars of his history as have been laid before the reader. De Gondomar listened to him with attention, and put some questions to him as he proceeded. At its close his countenance brightened. " You are in an awkward dilemma, it must be owned, INIaster Jocelyn Mounchensey," he said. " But I think I can protect you, in spite of them all— in spite of Bvickingham himself. Luckily, he is not at Theobalds at present, so the coast is clear for action. The first blow is half the battle. I must present you to the king without delay. And see, his Majesty ap- proaches. Stand close behind me, and act as I advise you by a sign.^ ;j THE STAR-CHAMBER. 187 CHAPTEE, XX. KING JAMES THE FIRST, Meantime the royal cavalcade came slowly up the avenue. It was very numerous, and all the more brilliant in appearance_, since it comprised nearly as many high-born dames as nobles. Amongst the distinsruished foreii^ners who with their attendants swelled the party, were the Venetian lieger-ambassador Giustiniano, and the Marquis de Tremouille, of the family des Ursins, ambassador from France, These exalted personages rode close behind the king, and one or the other of them was constantly engaged in conversation Avith him. Giustiniano had one of those dark, grave, handsome countenances familiarized to us by the portraits of Titian and Tin- toretto, and even the king's jests failed in making him smile. He was apparelled entirely in black velvet, with a cloak bordered with the costly fur of the black fox. All his followers were similarly at- tired. The sombre Venetian presented a striking contrast to his vivacious companion, the gay and graceful De Tremouille, who glittered in white satin, embroidered with leaves of silver, while the same 188 THE STAR-CHAMBER. colour and the same ornaments were adopted by his retinne. No order of precedence was observed by the court nobles. Each rode as he listed. Prince Charles was absent_, and so was the supreme favourite Bucking- ham ; but their places were supplied by some of the chief personages of the realm^ including the Earls of Arundel, Pembroke, and Montgomery, the Marquis of Hamilton, and the Lords Haddington, Fenton, and Doncaster. Intermingled with the nobles, the cour- tiers of lesser rank, and the ambassadors' followers, were the ladies, most of whom claimed attention from personal charms, rich attire, and the grace and skill with which they managed their horses. Perhaps the most beautiful amongst them was the young Countess of Exeter, whose magnificent black eyes did great execution. The lovely countess was mounted on a fiery Spanish barb, given to her by De Gondomar. Forced into a union with a gouty and decrepit old husl^and, the Countess of Exeter might have pleaded this circumstance in extenuation of some of her follies. It was undoubtedly an argument em- ployed by her admirers, who, in endeavouring to shake her fidelity to her lord, told her it was an infamy that she should be sacrificed to such an old dotard as he. Whether these argimients prevailed in more cases than one we shall not inquire too nicely; but if com*t- scandal may be relied on, they did — Buckingham and De Gondomar being both reputed to have been her lovers. The last, however, in the list, and the one who THE STAR-CHAMBER. 189 appeared to be most passionately enamoured of the beautiful countess, and to receive the largest share of her regard, was Lord Roos ; and as this culpable at- tachment and its consequences connect themselves intimately with our history, we have been obliged to advert to them thus particularly. Lord Roos was a near relative of the Earl of Exeter; and although the infirm and gouty old peer had been excessively jealous of his lovely young wife on former occasions, when she had appeared to trifle with his honour, he seemed per- fectly easy and unsuspicious now, though there was infinitely more cause for distrust. Possibly he had too much reliance on Lord Roos's good feelings and principles to suspect him. Very difierent was Lady Roos's conduct. This unhappy lady, whom we have already mentioned as the daughter of Sir Thomas Lake, Secretary of State, had the misfortune to be sincerely attached to her handsome but profligate husband, whose neglect and frequent irregularities she had pardoned, until the utter estrangement occasioned by his passion for the Countess of Exeter, filled her with such trouble, that, overpowered at length by anguish, she complained to her mother. Lady Lake, — an ambitious and imperious woman, whose vanity had prompted her to bring about this unfortunate match. Expressing the greatest indig- nation at the treatment her daughter had experienced, Lady Lake counselled her to resent it, undertaking herself to open the eyes of the injured Earl of Exeter to his wife's infidelity; but she was dissuaded from her purpose by Sir Thomas Lake. Though generally 190 THE STAR-CHAMBER., governed by his wife^ Sir Thomas succeeded, in this instance, in overruling- her design of proceeding at once to extremities with the guilty pair, recommending that, in the fii'st instance. Lord Roos should be strongly remonstrated with by Lady Lake and her daughter, when perhaps his fears might be aroused, if his sense of duty could not be awakened. This final appeal had not yet been made; but an interview had taken place between Lady Roos and her husband, at which, with many passionate entreaties, she had implored him to shake off the thraldom in which he had bound himself, and to retm-n to her, when all should be forgiven and forgotten, — but without effect. Thus matters stood at present. As we have seen, though the Countess of Exeter formed one of the chief ornaments of the hawking party, Lord Eoos had not joined it; his absence being occasioned by a summons from the Conde de Gon- domar, with some of whose political intrigues he was secretly mixed up. Whether the Countess missed him or not, we pretend not to say. All we are able to declare is, she was in high spirits, and seemed in no mood to check the advances of other aspirants to her favour. Her beautiful and expressive featm-es beamed with constant smiles, and her lustrous black eyes seemed to create a flame wherever theii- beams alighted. But we must quit this enchantress and her spells, and proceed with the description of the royal party. In the rear of those on horseback walked the falconers. THE STAR-CHAMBER. 191 in liveries of green cloth^ Avith bugles hanging from the shoulder; each man having a hawk upon his fist, completely ^tired in its hood^ bells^ varvels, and jesses. At the heels of the falconers, and accompanied by a throng of varlets in russet jerkins, cariying staves, came two packs of hounds, — one used for what was termed, in the language of falconry, the Flight at the E/iver, — these were all water spaniels; and the other, for the FUght at the Field. Nice music they made, in spite of the eiforts of the varlets in russet to keep them quiet. Hawking, in those days, was what shooting is in the present; fowling-pieces being scarcely used, if at all. Thus the varieties of the hawk tribe were not merely employed in the capture of pheasants, partridges, grouse, rails, quails, and other game, besides water- fowl, but in the chase of hares; and in all of these pursuits the falconers were assisted by dogs. Game, of com'se, could only be killed at particular seasons of the year; and wild geese, wild ducks, v/oodcocks, and snipes in the wanter; but spring and summer pastime was afforded by the crane, the bustard, the heron, the rook, and the kite; while, at the same periods, some of the smaller description of water-fowl offered excellent sport on lake or river. A striking and picturesque sight that cavalcade presented, with its nodding plumes of many colom-s, its glittering silks and velvets, its proud array of horsemen, and its still prouder array of lovely women, whose personal graces and charms baffle description, while they invite it. Pleasant were the sounds that 192 THE STAR-CHAMBER, accompanied the progress of the train: the jocund laugh^ the musical voices of women, the jingling of bridleSj the snorting and tramping of steeds, the baying of hounds, the shouts of the varlets, and the winding of horns. But having, as yet, omitted the principal figure, we must hasten to describe him by whom the party was headed. The King, then, was moimted on a superb milk-white steed, with wide-flowing mane and tail, and of the easiest and gentlest pace. Its colour was set off by its red chanfrein, its nodding crest of red feathers, its broad poitrinal with red tassels, and its saddle with red housings. Though devoted to the chase, as we have shown, James was but an indifferent horseman; and his safety in the saddle was assured by such high-bolstered bows in front and at the back, that it seemed next to impossible he could be shaken out of them. Yet, in spite of all these precautions, accidents had befallen him. On one occasion. Sir Symonds D'Ewes relates that he was thrown headlong into a pond; and on another, we learn from a different source that he was cast over his horse's head into the New River, and narrowly escaped dl"o^vning, his boots alone being visible above the ice covering the stream. Moreover the monarch's attire was excessively stiff and cumbrous, and this, while it added to the natural ungainliness of his person, prevented all freedom of movement, especially on horseback. His doublet, which on the present occasion was of green velvet, considerably frayed, — for he was by no means parti- cular about the newness of his apparel, — was padded THE STAR-CHAMBER. 193 and quilted so as to be dagger-proof; and his hose were stuffed in the same manner^ and preposterously large about tlie hips. Then his ruff was triple- banded^ and so stiffly starched^ that the head was fixed immovably amidst its plaits. Though not handsome^ James's featm-es were thoughtfid and intelligent^ with a gleam of cunning in the eye, and an expression of sarcasm about the mouthj and they contained the type of the peculiar physiognomy that distinguished all his unfortimate line. His beard was of a yellowish-brown, and scantily covered his chin, and his thin moustaches were of a yet lighter hue. His hair was beginning to turn grey, but his complexion was ruddy and hale, proving that, but for his constant ebriety and indulgence in the pleasures of the table, he might have attained a good old age — if, indeed, his life was not unfairly abridged. His large eyes were for ever rolling about, and his tongue was too big for his mouth, causing him to splutter in utterance, besides giving him a disagreeable appearance when eating ; while his legs were so weak, that he required support in walking. Not\vithstand- ing these defects, and his general coarseness of manner, James was not without dignity, and could, when he chose, assume a right royal air and deportment. But these occasions were rare. As is well known, his pedantry and hisjiretensions to superior wisdom and discrimination procured him the title of the " Scottish bolomon." His general character will be more fully developed as we proceed ; and we shall show the perfidy VOL. I. O 194 THE STAR-CHAMBER. and dissimulation wliicli he practised in carrying out his schemes, and tried to soften down under the plaus- ible appellation of " king-craft." James was never seen to greater advantage than on occasions like the present. His hearty enjoyment of the sport he was engaged in ; his familiarity with all around him, even A\ath the meanest varlets by whom he was attended, and for whom he had generally some droll nickname ; his complete abandonment of all the etiquette which either he or his master of the cere- monies observed elsewhere ; his good-tempered vanity and boasting about his skill as a woodsman, — all these things created an impression in his favour, which was not diminished in those who were not brought much into contact with him in other ways. When hunting or hawking, James was nothing more than a hearty country gentleman engaged in the like sports. The cavalcade came leisurely on, for the King pro- ceeded no faster than would allow the falconers to keep easily up with those on horseback. He was in high good humour, and laughed and jested sometimes with one ambassador, sometimes with the other, and having finished a learned discussion on the manner of fleeing a hawk at the river and on the field, as taught by the great French authorities, Martin, Maloj)in, and Aime Cassian, ^vith. the INIarquis de Tremouille, had just begun a similar conversation with Giustiniano as to the Italian mode of manning, hooding, and reclaiming a falcon, as practised by Messer Francesco Sforzino Vicentino, when he caught sight of the Conde de Gondomar, standing where we left him at the side of THE STAR-CHAMBER. 195 the avenue, on which he came to a sudden halt, and the whole cavalcade stopped at the same time. "Salad! Concle magmficoV^ exclaimed King James, as the Spaniard advanced to make his obeisance to liim : " how is it that we find you standing under the shade of the tree friendly to the vine, — amicta vitibu~^ ulmi, as 0\ad hath it ? Is it that yon bloom- ing Chloe,^' he continued, leering significantly at Gillian, " hath more attraction for you than our court dames ? Troth ! the quean is not ill-favom'ed ; but ye ha' lost a gude day's sj)ort. Count, forbye ither losses which we sail na particularize. We hae had a noble flight at the heron, and anither just as guid after the bustard. God's santy ! the run the lang-leggit loon gave us. Lady Exeter, on her braw Spanish barb — we ken whose gift it is — was the only one able to keep with us ; and it was her leddyship's ain peregrine falcon that checked the fleeing carle at last. By om- faith, the Countess understands the gentle science weel. She cared not to soil her dainty gloves by rewarding her hawk ^^ith a soppa, as his excellency Giustiniano would term it, of the bustard's heart, bluid, and brains. But wha hae ye gotten Avi' ye ?" he added, for the first time noticing Jocelyn. " A young gentleman in whom I am much interested, and whom I would crave permission to present to your Majesty," replied De Gondomar. " Saul of our body. Count, the permission is readily granted," replied James, evidently much pleased with the young man's appearance. " Ye shall bring him to 2 196 THE STAR-CHAMBER. US in the pri\y-chaml:)er before we gang to supper, and moreover ye shall hae full licence to advance what you please in his behoof. He is a weel-grown, weel- favoured laddie, almost as much sae as our ain dear dog Steenie ; but we wad say to him, in the words of the Roman bard, — ' formose puer, nimium ue crede colori !' Gude pairts are better than gude looks, not that the latter are to be undervalued, but baith shoidd exist in the same person. We shall soon discover whether the young man hath been weel nurtured, and if all cor- respond, we shall not refuse him the light of om- countenance." " I tender your Majesty thanks for the favom* 3-ou have conferred upon him," replied De Gondomar. " But ye have not yet tauld us the youth's name. Count ?" said the King. " Your jNIajesty, I trust, will not thiidi: I make a mystery where none is needed, if I say that my protegd claims your graciou^s permission to preserve, for the moment, his incognito," De Gondomar replied. "When I present him, of course his name will be declared." " Be it as you will. Count," James replied. " We ken fu' weel ye hae gude reason, for a' ye do. Fail not in your attendance on us at the time appointed." As De Gondomar, \A'ith a profomid obeisance, di-ew back, the King put his steed in motion. General attention having been thus called to Jocelyn, all eyes were turned towards him, his appearance and attire were criticised, and much speculation ensued as to what THE STAR-CHAMBER. 197 could be the Spanish Ambassador's motive for under- taldng the presentation. Meanwhile, Lord Roos had taken advantage of the brief halt of the hunting party to approach the Countess of Exeter, and pointing out Gillian to her, inquired in a low tone, and in a few words, to which, however, his looks imparted significance, whether she would take the pretty damsel into her service as tire- woman or handmaiden. The Countess seemed sur- prised at the request, and, after glancing at the Beauty of Tottenham, was about to refuse it, when Lord Roos urged in a whisper, " 'Tis for De Gondomar I ask the favour." " In that case I readily assent," the Countess replied. " I will go speak to the damsel at once, if you desire it. How pretty she is ! No wonder his inflammable excellency should be smitten by her." And detaching her barb, as she spoke, from the cavalcade, she moved towards Gillian, accompanied by Lord Ptoos. The pretty damsel was covered with fresh confusion at the great lady's approach; and was, indeed, so greatly alarmed, that she might have taken to her heels, if she had been on the ground, and not on the pillion behind her grandsire. •' Be not abashed, my pretty maiden," the Countess said, in a kind and encom-aging tone; "there is nothing to be afraid of. Aware that I am in want of a damsel like yourself, to tire my hair and attend upon me. Lord Eoos has drawn my attention to you; and if I may trust to appearances — as I think I may," she added, with a very flattering and persuasive smile, " in 198 THE STAR-CHAMBER. your case, you are the veiy person to suit me, provided you are willing to enter my service. I am the Countess of Exeter." " A countess !" exclaimed Gillian. " Do you hear that, grandsire? The beautiful lady is a countess. ^Tiat an honour it would be to serve her ?" " It might be," the old man replied, with hesitation, and, in a whisper; '^yet I do not exactly like the manner of it." " Don't accept the offer, Gillian. Don't go," said Dick Taverner, whose breast was full of uneasiness. " Yom' answer, my pretty maiden ?" the Countess said, with a ^\'inning smile. " I am much beholden to you, my lady," Gillian replied, " and it wdll delight me to serve you as you propose — that is, if I have my grandsire's consent to it." " And the good man, I am sure, has youi* welfare too much at heart to mthhold it," the Countess replied. " But follow me to the palace, and we Mdll confer fur- ther upon the matter. Inquire for the Countess of Exeter's apartments." And ^\'ith another gracious snule, she rejoined the cavalcade, leaving Lord Roos behind. He thanked her with a look for her com- plaisance. " O Gillian, I am sure ill w411 come of this," Dick Taverner exclaimed. " AMierefore should it ?" she rejoined, almost beside herself with delight at the brilliant prospect suddenly opened before her. " My fortune is made." " You are right, my pretty damsel, it is," Lord THE STAR-CHAMBER. 199 E-oos remarked, "Fail not to do as the Countess has dii-ected you^ and I will answer for the rest." " You hear what the kind young nobleman says, grandsire?" Gillian whispered in his ear. "You cannot doubt his assurance ?" " I hear it all," old Greenford replied; " but I know not what to think. I suppose we must go to the palace." " To be sure we must/' Gillian cried ; " I will go there alone, if you will not go with me." Satisfied with what he had heard. Lord E,oos moved away, nodding approval at GiUian, The cavalcade, as we have said, was once more in motion, but before it had proceeded far, it was again, most unexpectedly, brought to a halt. Suddenly stepping from behind a large tree which had concealed him from view, a man in military habi- liments, with grizzled hair and beard, and an exceed- ingly resolute and stern cast of countenance, planted himself directly in the monarch's path, and extending his hand towards him, exclaimed, in a loud voice, " Stand ! O King !" " Who art thou, fellow? and what wouldst thou?" demanded James, who had checked his horse with such suddenness as almost to throw himself out of his high- bolstered saddle." " I have a message to deliver to thee from Heaven," replied Hugh Calveley. " Aha!" exclaimed James, recovering in some degree, for he thought he had a madman to deal with. " What may thy message be ?" 200 THE STAR-CHAMBER. And Avilling to gain a character for courage^ though it Vv"as wholly foreign to his nature, he motioned those ai-ound him to keep back. " Thy message, fellow I" he repeated. " Hear, then, what Heaven saith to thee," the Pm'itan replied. " Have I not brought thee out of a land of famine into a land of plenty ? Thou ouglitest, therefore, to have judged my people righteously ! But thou hast perverted justice, and not relieved the oppressed. Therefore, unless thou repent, I will rend thy kingdom from thee, and from thy posterity after thee. Thus saith the Lord, whose messenger I am." THE STAR-CHAMBER. 201 CHAPTER XXI. CONSEQUENCES OF THE PURITAn's WARNING. Coupling Hugh Calveley^s present strange appear- ance and solemn warning vnt\i his previous denun- ciations uttered in secret, and his intimations of some ch'ead design, with which lie had sought to connect the young man himself, intimating that its execution would jeopardize his life; putting these things to- gether, we say, Jocelyn could not for an instant doubt that the King was in imminent danger, and he felt called upon to interfere, even though he should be compelled to act against his father's friend, and the father of Aveline. No alternative, in fact, was allowed him. As a loyal subject, his duty imperiously re- quired him to defend his sovereign; and perceiving that no one (inconsequence of the King's injunctions) advanced towards the Puritan, Jocelyn hastily quitted the Conde de Gondomar, and, rushing forward, sta- tioned himself between the monarch and his bold admonisher ; and so near to the latter, that he could easily prevent any attack being made by him upon James. Evidently disconcerted by the movement, Hugh 202 THE STAR-CHAMBER. Calveley signed to the young man to stand aside, but Joeelyn refused compliance ; the rather that he sus- pected from the manner in which the other placed his hand in his breast that he had some weapon concealed about his person. Casting a look of bitterest reproach at him, which plainly as words said — " Ungrateful boy, thou hast prevented my pm-pose/' the Puritan folded his hands upon his breast with an air of deep disappointment. " Fly I" cried Joeehii, in a tone calculated only to reach his ears. " I "«ill defend you with my life. Waste not another momenta— fly \" But Hugh Calveley regarded him with cold disdain, and though he moved not his lips, he seemed to say, " You have destroyed me ; and I Avill not remove the guilt of my destruction from your head.^' The Pm'itan's languao-e and manner had filled James with astonishment and fresh alarm ; but feeling secure in the propinquity of Joeelyn to the object of his un- easiness, and being closely enwoned by his retinue, the foremost of whom had dra^\Ti their swords and held themselves in readiness to defend him from the slightest hostile attempt, it was not unnatural that even so timorous a person as he should regain his confidence. Once more, therefore, he restrained by his gestures the angry impetuosity of the nobles around him, who were burning to chastise the rash intruder, and signified his intention of questioning him before any measm-es were adopted against him. " Let him be," he cried. " He is some puir de- mented creature, fitter for Bedlam than anywhere else; THE STAR-CHAMBER. 203 and we will see that he be sent thither ; but molest him not till we hae spoken wi' him, and certified his condition more fully. Quit not the position ye hae sae judiciously occupied, young sir, albeit against our orders," he cried to Jocelyn. " Dinna draw jouv blade, unless the fellow seeks to come till us. Not that we are under ony apprehension ; but there are bluidthirsty traitors even in oui* pacific territories, and as this may be ane of them, it is weel not to neglect due precaution. And now, man," he added, raising his voice, and addressing the Puritan, who still main- tained a steadfast and unmoved demeanour, with his eye constantly fixed upon his interrogator. " Ye say ye are a messenger frae heaven. An it be sae — w^hilk we take leave to doubt, rather conceiving ye to be an envoy from the Prince of Darlcness than an ambas- sador from above — an ill choice hath been made in ye. Unto what order of prophets do ye conceive yourself to belong?" To this interrogation, propoimded in a jeering tone, the Puritan deigned no reply; but an answer was given for him by Arehee, the court jester, who had managed in the confusion to creep up to his royal master's side. " He belongs to the order of Melchisedec," said Arehee. A reply that occasioned some laughter among the nobles, in which the King joined heartily. " Tut, fule ! ye are as daft as the puir body before us," cried James. " Ken ye not that Melchisedec was a priest and not a projihet ; while to judge frae yon fellow's abulyiements, if he belongs to any church at 204 THE STAR-CHAMBER. all, it maun be to the church militant. And yet, aiblins, ye are na sae far out after a'. Like aneuch, he may be infected with the heresy of the Melchise- decians — a pestilent sect, who plagued the early Chris- tian Church sairly, placing their master aboon our Blessed Lord himself, and holding him to be identical wi' the Holy Ghaist. Are ye a Melchisedecian, sirrah ?" " I am a believer in the Gospel," the Puritan replied. " And am willing to seal my faith in it with my blood. I am sent hither to warn thee, O King, and thou wilt do well not to despise my words. Repent ere it be too late. Wonderfully hath thy life been preserved. Dedicate the remainder of thy days to the service of the Most High. Persecute not His people, and revile them not. Purge thy City of its uncleanness and idolatry, and thy Court of its corruption. Profane not the Sabbath " " I see how it is," interrupted Archee with a scream; "the man hath been driven stark wud by your Majesty's Book of Sports." " A book devised by the devil," cried Hugh Calveley, catching- at the suo-o-estion ; " and which ouo-ht to be publicly burnt by the hangman, instead of being read in the churches. How much mischief hath that book done ! How many abominations hath it occasioned ! And, alas ! how much persecution hath it caused ; for have not many just men, and sincere preachers of the Word, been prosecuted in thy Court, misnamed of justice, and known, O king ! as the Star-Chamber ; THE STAR-CHAMBER. 205 suffering stripes and imprisonment for refusing to read thy mischievous proclamation to their flocks I" " I knew it ! — I knew it !" screamed Archee, delighted with the effect he had produced. "Take heed, sirrah/' he cried to the Puritan, " that ye make not acquaintance wi' Hhat Court misnamed of justice' yer am sell." " He is liker to be arraigned at om- court styled the King's Bench, and hanged, drawn, and quartered afterwards," roared James, far more enraged at the disrespectful mention made of his manifesto, than by anything that had previously occurred. " The man is not sae doited as we supposed him." " He is not sane enough to keep his neck from the halter," rejoined Archee. " Yom- Majesty should spare him, since you are indirectly the cause of his malady." " Intercede not for me," cried Hugh Calveley. " I woidd not accept any grace at the tyrant's hands. Let him hew me in pieces, and my blood shall cry out for vengeance upon his head." " By our halidame ! a dangerous traitor !" exclaimed James. " Hear me, O King !" thundered the Puritan. " For the third and last time I lift up my voice to warn thee. Visions have appeared to me in the night, and mys- terious voices have whispered in mine ear. They have revealed to me strange and terrible things — but not more strange and terrible than true. They have told me how thy posterity shall suffer for the injustice thou doest to thy people. They have shown me a scaffold 206 THE STAR-CHAMBER. which a King shall mount — and a block whereon a royal head shall he laid. But it shall he better for that unfortunate monarch, though he be brought to judgment by his people, than for him who shall be brought to judgment by his God. Yet more. I have seen in my visions two Kings in exile : one of whom shall be recalled, but the other shall die in a foreign land. As to thee, thou mayst live on yet awhile in fancied security. But destruction shall suddenly over- take thee. Thou shalt be stung to death by the serpent thou nourishest in thy bosom." Wliatever credit might be attached to them, the Puritan's prophetic forebodings produced, from the manner in which they were delivered, a strong impres- sion upon all his auditors. Unquestionably the man was in earnest, and spoke like one who believed that a mission had been entrusted to him. No interruption was offered to his speech, even by the King, though the latter turned pale as these terrible coming events were shadowed forth before him. " His words are awsome,'' he muttered, " and gar the flesh creep on our banes. "Will nane o' ye stap his tongue T' '' Better hae stapt it afore this," said Archee ; " he has said ower meikle, or not aneuch. The Deil's malison on thee, fellow, for a prophet of ill ! Hast thou aught to allege why his Majesty should not tuck thee up with a halter?" " I have spoken," responded the Puritan ; " let the Kms" do with me what he lists." THE STAR-CHAMBER. 207 " Seize him ! arrest him ! ye are nearest to him^ sir," shouted the King to Jocelyn. The command coidd not be disobeyed. As Jocelyn drew near, and laid his hand upon Hugh Calveley, the latter looked reproachfully at him, sapng, "Thou doest well, son of my old friend." Jocelyn was unable to reply, for a crowd now pressed forward on all sides, completely surrounding the pri- soner. Some of the nobles threatened him with their swords, and the warders, who had come up from the gateway, thrust at him with their partisans. Joceljm had great difficulty in shielding him from the infuri- ated throng. " Touch him not !" he cried, clearing a space around them with the point of his sword. "His Majesty has committed him to my custody, and I am respon- sible for him. Pardon me if I disarm you, sir," he added in an undertone to the prisoner. " Here is my sword," replied Hugh Calveley, un- buckling his belt and delivering up the w^eapon it sustained to Jocel}Ti; " it hath never been dishonom-ed, and," he added, lowering his voice, "it hath been twice drawn in thy father's defence." The reproach cut Jocelyn to the heart. At this moment the crowd drew aside to allow the King's approach. " Hath he been searched to see whether any deadly or offensive weapon is concealed about him ?" demanded James. " He cannot have any more offensive weapon than 208 THE STAR-CHAMBER. his tongue/' cried Archee, who accompanied his royal master. "I counsel yom- Majesty to deprive him of that." "There is something hidden in his breast/' cried one of the warders^ searching in his jerkin, and at length drawing forth a short, clumsy pistol, or dag, as the weapon was then called. "It is loaded, an please yoiu" Majesty," the man continued, after ex- amining it. Exclamations of horror arose from those around, and Jocelyn had again some difficulty in protecting the prisoner from their fury. "A dag!" ejaculated James, "a loaded dag, cram- med to the muzzle wi' bullets, nae doubt. Ilaud it down, man ! haud it do^^^l ! it may fire off of itsel', and accomplish the villain's murtherous and sacrilegious design. And sae this was to be the instrument of om* destruction ! Dost thou confess thy guilt, thou blmd- thirsty traitor, or shall the torture force the truth from thee ?" "The tortm-e will force nothing from me," replied Hugh Calveley. "But I tell thee, tyrant, that I would have slain thee, had not my hand been stayed." " Heard ye ever the like o' that ?" exclaimed James, his ruddy cheek blanched Avith fright, and his voice quavering. " Why, he exceedeth in audacity the arch- traitor Fawkes himsel'. And what stayed thy hand, villain?" he demanded, — "what stayed thy hand, thou blood-thirsty traitor ?" "The presence of this youth, Jocel^ii Mounchen- sey," rejoined Hugh Calveley. " Had he not come THE STAR-CHAMBER. 209 between us when he did, and checked my purpose, I had delivered my country from oppression. I told thee, tyrant, thou hadst been marvellously preserved. Thy preserver stands befoi-e thee." " Heaven defend us !" exclaimed James, trembling. " What an escape we hae had. There hath been a special interposition o' Providence in our behoof. Our gratitude is due to Him who watcheth ower us." " And in some degree to him who hath been made the instrument of your Majesty's preservation," ob- served the Conde de Gondomar, who formed one of the group near the King. " Since the foul traitor hath proclaimed the name of my young protege, there can be no need for further concealment. Master Jocelyn Mounchensey hath been singularly fortunate in rendering your Majesty a service, and may for ever congratulate himself on his share — accidental though it be — in this affair." '' By my halidame ! he shall have reason for con- gratulation," cried James, graciously regarding the vouno^ man. " Ay, let him rise by my fall. 'Tis meet he should," jried the Puritan, bitterly. " Shower thy honours upon him, tyrant. Give him wealth and titles. I coidd not wish him worse misfortune than thy favour." " Hold thy scurril tongue, villain, or it shall be torn out by the roots," said James. " Thou shalt see that I can as promptly reward those that serve me, as thou shalt presently feel I can severely punish those that seek to injure me. Hark ye. Count !" he added VOL. I. p 210 THE STAR-CHAMBER. to the Spanish Ambassador^ while those around drew back a little^ seeing it was his Majesty^s pleasure to confer with him in private, " this youth — this JoceljTi ]\Iounchensey, hath g-entle bluid in his veins? — ^he comes of a good stock, ha T' " He is the representative of an old Norfolk family/' De Gondomar replied. " "What ! the son of Sir Ferdinando ?" demanded James, a shade crossing his countenance, which did not escape the wily ambassador's notice. " You have guessed right, sire," he said. " This is Sir Ferdinando's son ; and, if I may be permitted to say so, yom- Majesty owes him some reparation for the Avi'ongs done his father." " How ! Coiint !" exclaimed James, with a look of slight displeasm-e. " Do you ventm-e to question our judgments on hearsay ? — for ye can know naething o' vom* ain knowledge." '' I knoAV enough to be satisfied that misrepresenta- tions were made to yom- Majesty respecting this young man's father," De Gondomar replied ; " for I am well assured that if you ever erred at all, it must have been through ignorance, and want of due information. This was what I designed to explain more ftdly than I can well do now, when I availed myself of your Majesty's gracious permission to bring the yoimg man into your presence; and I should then have taken leave to express how much he merited your Majesty's favour and protection. Fortune, however, has outrun my \\ashes, and given him a stronger claim upon you than any I could urge." THE STAR-CHAMBER. 211 " Ye are riglit^ Countj" rejoined James cautiously. " He liath the strongest claina upon us^ and lie shall not find us ungrateful. We will confer wi' Steenie — wi' Buckingham, we mean — about him.'' " Pardon me, sire/' said De Gondomar, " if I ven- ture to suggest that your IMajesty hath an admirable opportunity, which I should be sorry to see neglected, of showing your goodness and clemency, and silencing for ever the voice of calumny, which wiU sometimes be raised against you." " ^^liat mean ye, Coimt ?" cried James. '' Ye wad na hae me pardon yon traitor ?" " Most assuredly not, sire," De Gondomar rejoined. " But I would urge some present mark of favom* for him who hath saved you from the traitor's fell designs. And I am emboldened to ask this, because I feel as- sured it must be consonant to your Majesty's own in- clinations to grant the request." "It is sae, Comit," rejoined James. "We only desired to consult yvi' Buckingham to ascertain whether he had any objections ; but as this is altogether xm- likely, we will follow om- ain inclinations and do as your Excellency suggests." De Gondomar could scarcely conceal his satisfaction. At this moment Lord Boos pressed towards the Kino-. " I have something to say in reference to this young man, my liege," he cried. " In his favour ?" demanded the king. " Yes, yes ; in his favour sire," said De Gondomar, p 2 212 THE STAR-CHAMBEll. looking hard at the young nobleman. " You need not trouble his Majesty further, my lord. He is graciously pleased to accede to our wishes." "Ay, ay; nae mair need be said/' cried James. " Let the young man stand forward." And as Jocelyn olDcyed the injunction which was immediately communicated to him by De Gondomar, the King bade him kneel down, and taking Lord Ross's sword, toxiched him with it on the shoulder, exclaiming, " Arise ! Sir Jocelyn." " You are safe now," whispered De Gondomar. " This is the first blow, and it has been well struck." So confused wa^ the new-made knight by the honour thus unexpectedly conferred upon him, that when he rose to his feet he could scarcely command himself sufficiently to make the needful obeisance, and tender thanks to the King. For a moment, his brow Avas flushed with pride, and his breast beat high ; but the emotions were instantly checked, as he thought how the title had been purchased. Looking towards the prisoner, he beheld him in the hands of the warders, to whose custody he had been committed, wdtli his arms bound behind him by thongs. His gaze had never qviitted the young man during the ceremony which had just taken place, and he still regarded him sternly and reproachfully. " Let the prisoner be removed, and kept in a place of safety till our pleasure respecting him be made known," cried James. " And now, my lords and ladies, let us forward to the palace." And the cavalcade was once more put in motion THE STAR-CHAMBER. 213 and passing through the great gateway entered the Fountam Court, where the nobility of both sexes dis- mounted, while their attendants and the falconers and varlets passed off to the offices. The prisoner was conveyed to the porter's lodge, and strictly guarded, till some secure chamber could be prepared for him. On the way thither Jocel}Ti contrived to approach liim, and to say in a low tone — " Can I do aught for Aveline ?" "Concern not yourself about her. Sir Jocelyn,^* rejoined Hugh Calveley, with stern contempt. " She is in a place of safety. You will never behold her more." 214 THE STAR-CHAjMBER. CHAPTER XXII. WIFE AND MOTHER-IN-LAW. Quick steps descended the narrow staircase — steps so light and cautious that they made no sound. Be- fore di'awing aside the arras that covered the secret entrance to the chamher^ the lady paused to listen; and hearing nothing to alarm her^ she softly raised a corner of the woof and looked in. What did she behold ? A young man seated beside a carved oak table, with his back towards her. He was reading a letter, the contents of which seemed greatly to disturb him, for he more than once dashed it aside, and then compelled himself to resume its perusal. Xo one else was in the room, which was spacious and lofty, though somewhat sombre, being wholly furnished with dark oak; while the walls were hung with ancient tapestry. Heavy curtains were drawn before the deep bay uHiudows, increasing the gloom. The chamber was lighted by a brass lamp suspended from the moulded ceiling, the ribs of which were painted, and the bosses, at the intersections, gilded. Near the concealed entrance where the lady THE STAR-CHAMBER. 215 stood was placed a large ciu-iously-carved ebony cabinet^ against which leaned a suit of tilting armour and a lance; while on its summit were laid a morion, a brigandine, greaves, gauntlets, and other pieces of armour. On the right of the cabinet the tapestry was looped aside, disclosing a short flight of steps, termi- nated b}^ the door of an ante-chamber. Almost as the lady set foot within the room, which she did after a brief dehberation, di-opping the arras noiselessly behind her, the young man arose. Her entrance had not been perceived, so violently was he ao^itated. Crushing the letter which had excited him SO much between his fingers, and casting it furiously from him, he gave vent to an incoherent expression of rage. Though naturally extremely handsome, his features at this moment were so distorted by passion that they looked almost hideous. In person he was slight and finely formed; and the richness of his attire proclaimed him of rank. The lady who, unperceived, had witnessed his violent emotion was remarkably beautiful. Her figure was superb; and she had the whitest neck and arms imaginable, and the smallest and most delicately- formed hands. Her features derived something of haughtiness from a slightly aquiline nose and a short curled upper lip. Her eyes were magnificent, — ^large, dark, and almost Oriental in shape and splendour. Jetty brows, and thick, lustrous, raven hair, completed the catalogue of her charms. Her dress was of white brocade, over which she wore a loose robe of violet- 216 THE STAR-CHAMBER. coloured velvety with open hanging sleeves^ well calcu- lated to display the polished beauty of her arras. Her ruff was of point lace^ and round her throat she wore a carcanet of pearls, while other precious stones glistened in her dusky tresses. This beautiful dame, whose proud lips Avere now more compressed than usual, and whose dark eyes emitted fierce rays^very different from their cus- tomary tender and voluptuous glances — was the Countess of Exeter. He whom she looked upon was Lord Roos, and the chamber she had just entered was the one assigned to the young nobleman in the Palace of Theobalds. She watched him for some time with curiosity. At lenw-th his rage found vent in words. " Perdition seize them both !" he exclaimed, smiting his forehead A\ith his clenched hand. "Was ever man cursed with \\dfe and mother-in-law like mine ! They will, perforce, drive me to desperate measm-es, which I would willingly avoid; but if nothing else will keep them quiet, the grave must. Ay, the grave!" he repeated in a hollow voice; "it is not my fault if I am compelled to send them thither. Fools, to torment me thus !" Feeling she had heard more than she ought, the Countess would have retired; but as retreat might have betrayed her, she deemed it better to announce her presence by sajang, " You are not alone, my lord." Started by her voice. Lord Roos instantly turned, and regarded her with haggard looks. THE STAR-CHAMBER. 217 "You here^ Frances?" he exclaimed; "I did not expect you so soon." " I came before the hour, because but you seem greatly agitated. Has anything happened?" " Little more than what happens daily/^ he replied. " And yet it is more ; for the crisis has arrived, and a fearful crisis it is. O Frances !" he continued, vehe- mently, " how dear you are to me ! To preserve your love I would dare everything, even my soul's welfare. I would hesitate at no crime to keep you ever near me. Let those beware who would force you from me." "What means this passion, my lord?" inquired the Countess. " It means, that since there are those who mil mar our happiness; who, jealous of our loves, will utterly blight and destroy them; who will tear us forcibly asunder, recking little of the anguish they occasion : since we have enemies who will do this; who will mortally wound us — let us no longer hesitate, but strike the first blow. We must rid ourselves of them at any cost, and in any way." " I will not affect to misunderstand you, my Lord," the Countess replied, her beautiful features beginning to exhibit traces of terror. "Eut has it arrived at this point ? Is the danger imminent and inevitable ?" "Imminent, but not inevitable," Lord Roos rejoined. " It can be avoided, as I have hinted, in one way, and in one way only. There is a letter I have just received from my wife; wherein, after her usual upbraidings, remonstrances, and entreaties, she con- cludes by saying, that if I continue deaf to her prayers. 218 THE STAR-CHAMBEll. and refuse to break off entirely with you, and return to her^ our ' criminal attaeliment,' — ^for so she terms our love — should be divulged to the deluded Earl of Exeter, who will know how to redress her ^vrongs, and avenge his own injured honour. What answer, save one, can be returned to that letter, Frances ? If we set her at defiance, as we have hitherto done, she will act, for she is goaded on by that fury, her mother. We must gain a little time, in order that the difficul- ties now besetting us may be effectually removed/' " I shudder to think of it, William,^' said the Countess, trembling, and tm-ning deathly pale. " No : it must not be. Rather than such a crime should be committed, I will comply with their demand." " And leave me !" cried Lord Roos, bitterly. " Frances, your affection is not equal to mine, or you could not entertain such a thought for a moment. You almost make me suspect," he added, sternly, " that you have transferred your love to another. Ah ! beware ! I am not to be trifled with, like your husband." " I forgive you the doubt, my lord — unjust though it be — because your mind is disturbed; but were you calm enough to view the matter as it really is, you would perceive that my resolution has nothing in it inconsistent with affection for you; but rather that my very love for you compels me to the step. Wliat I propose is best for both of us. The remedy you suggest would work our ruin here and hereafter; would drive us from society, and render us hatefid to THE STAR-CHAMBER. 219 each other. My soul revolts at it. And though I myself have received a mortal affront from your wife's mother^ Lady Lake; though she has poured forth all the malice of which she is capable upon my devoted head; yet I would rather forgive her — rather sue for pity from her than go the fearful length you propose. 'No, William. The pang of parting from you will indeed be terrible, but it must be endured. Fate wills it so, and it is therefore useless to struggle against it." " O, recall those words, Prances !" cried the young nobleman, thromng himself at her feet, and clasping her hands passionately. '' Recall them, I implore of jon. In uttering them you pronounce my doom — a doom more dreadful than death, which would be light in comparison with losing you. Phmge this sword to my heart \" he exclaimed, plucking the shining weapon from his side, and presenting it to her. " Free me from my miser}^ at once, but do not condemn me to lingering agony." " Rise, William ! rise, I pray of you," ejaculated the Countess, overcome by the intensity of his emotion, " and put up your sword. The love you display for me deserves an adequate retm-n, and it shall meet it. Come what will, I will not leave you. But O ! let us not plunge deeper in guilt if it can be avoided," " But how can it be avoided ?" cried Lord Roos. " Will Ue^ listen to our prayers ? Will t/ie7/ pity us ? Will t/ie?/ hesitate at our destruction ?" '^ I know not — I know not," replied the Countess, 220 THE STAR-CHAMBER. bewildered; "but I stand appalled before the mag'- nitude of the offence." " They wiU not spare us/' pursued Lord Roos ; " and therefore we cannot spare them." " In my tui'n I bend to you, William," said the Countess, sinking on her knee before him, and taking his hand. " By the love you bear me, I beseech you not to harm your wife ! We have wronged her deeply — let us not have her death to answer for. If the blow tmist fall, let it be upon the mother's head. I have less compassion for her." " Lady Lake deserves no compassion," replied Lord Roos, raising the Countess, and embracing her ten- derly, " for she is the cause of all this mischief. It is to her agency we owe the storm which threatens us with ruin. But thing's have o'one too far now to show compunction for either of them. Our security demands that both should be removed." " I may now say as you have said, William, and \\ ith far greater reason," cried the Countess, " that you love me not, or you would not refuse my request.'^ "How can I comply with it?" he rejoined. " Nothing were done, if only partly done. Know you the charge that Lady Boos means to bring against you ! Though alike false and improbable, it is one to find easy credence with the King; and it has been framed Avith that ^^ew. You will vmderstand this, when I tell you what it is. In this letter," he added, picking up the paper he had thrown down, and unfold- ing it, " she accuses you of practising sorcery to enslave THE STAR-CHAMBER. 221 my affections. She declares you have bewitched me; and that she has proof of the manner in which it was done^ and of the sinful compact you have entered into for the purpose." " O William ! this is false — utterly false !" ex- claimed the Countess^ in desjDair. " I know it/' he rejoined. " You have no need to practise other enchantments with me than those you possess by nature. But what I tell you will show you the extent of their malice, and steel your heart, as it hath already steeled mine, against them." " But this accusation is too monstrous. It will not be believed," cried the Countess. " Monstrous as it is, it is more likely to be believed — more certain to be maintained — than the other which they lay at our door. We may deny all their assertions; may intimidate or give the lie to the wit- nesses they may produce against us; may stamp as forgeries yom- letters, which have unluckily fallen into their hands; but if this charge of witchcraft be once brought against you, it will not fall to the gromid. The King will listen to it, because it flatters his pre- judices; and even my voice would fail to save you from condemnation — from the stake." "Horrible!" exclaimed Lady Exeter, spreading her hands before her eyes, as if to exclude some dreadful object. " Oh, to live in an age when such enormities can be perpetrated! when such frightful weapons can be used against the innocent — for I am innocent, at least of this offence. All seems against me; all doors 222 THE STAR-CHAMBER. of escape — save one — closed. And A^lutlier does that door lead? To the Bottomless Pitj if there be truth in aug'ht we are told by Heaven." Lord Roos seemed vmable or unwilling to reply; and a deep pause ensued for a few moments^ during which the guilty pair shunned each other's regards. It was broken at length by Lady Exeter^ who said, reproach- full}', " You should have bui-nt my letters, William. Without them, they would have had no evidence against me. Imprudent that you were, you have destroyed me!" " Reproach me not, Frances," he rejoined. " I admit my imprudence, and • blame myself severely for it. But I could not part from a line I had received from you. I inclosed the letters in a little coffer, Avhich I deposited in a secret drawer of that cabinet, as in a place of perfect safety. The coifer and its contents mysteriously disappeared. How it was purloined I cannot inform you," ^'Do your suspicions alight on no one?" she iii- quii-ed. " They have fallen on several; but I have no cer- tainty that I have been right in any instance," he replied. " That I have some spy near me, I am well aware; and if I detect him, he shall pay for his perfidy with his life." "Hist!" cried Lady Exeter. "Did you not hear a noise?" "No," he rejoined. "Where?" She pointed to the little passage leading to the THE STAR-CHAMBEK. 223 ante-chamber. He instantly went tliitlier, and ex- amined the place^ but without discovering' any listener. " There is no one," he said, as he returned. " No one, in fact, could have obtained admittance wdthout my knowledge, for my Sj)anish servant, Diego, in whom I can place fidl confidence, is stationed without." " I distrust that man, William," she observed. "WTien I asked whom you thought had removed the letters, my o^^^l suspicions had attached to him." "I do not think he would have done it," Lord Roos replied. "He has ever served me faithfully; and, besides, I have a guarantee for his fidelity in the possession of a secret on which his own life hangs. I can dispose of him as I please." "Again that sound!" exclaimed the Countess. "1 am sure some one is there." " Your ears have deceived you," said the young nobleman, after examining the spot once more, and likewise the secret entrance by which the Countess had approached the chamber. " I heard nothing, and can find nothing. Your nerves are shaken, and make you fanciful." " It may be so," she rejoined. But it was evident she was not convinced, for she lowered her tones almost to a whisper as she continued. It might be that the question she designed to put was one she dared not ask aloud. " l^Tiat means do you purpose to employ in the execution of your design ?" " The same as those employed by Somerset and his Countess in the removal of Sir Thomas Overbury; 224 THE STAR-CHAMBER. but more expeditious and more certain/' lie replied under his breath. " Dreadful !" she exclaimed, Nnth a shudder. " But the same judgment that overtook the Somersets may overtake us. Such crimes are never hidden." " Crimes fouler than theirs have never been brought to lig'ht, and never will. There M'as one in which Somerset himself was concerned, involving the destruc- tion of a far hig-her personage than Overbury ; and this dare not even be hinted at." " Because the greatest person in the land was con- nected with it/' returned the Countess. " I conclude you refer to the death of Prince Henry ?" " I do/' answered Lord Boos. " Somerset would never have been questioned about Overbury, if his fall had not been resolved upon by the King." " One other question, and I ask no more," said the Countess, scarcely able to syllable her words. " W\io is to administer the deadly draixght ?" " Luke Hatton, Lady Lake's apothecary. He is a creature of mine, and entirely devoted to me." " Our lives will be in his hands ever afterwards," said the Countess, in a deep whisper. " They will be in safe keeping," he rejoined, endea- vouring to reassure her. " O William ! I would I could prevail upon you to defer this project." " To what end ? The sooner it is done the better. It cannot, indeed, be deferred. I shall send for Luke Hatton to-night," THE STAR-CHAMBER. 225 At this announcement J the Countess^ who had gra- dually been growing fainter and becoming paler^ lost all power of supporting herself^ and^ uttering a cry, fell into his outstretched arms in a state of complete insensibility. While Lord Roos, half distracted, was considering what means he could adopt for her restoration, a man, with an almost tawny complexion, hair and eyes to match, and habited in the young nobleman's livery of crimson and white, suddenly entered from the ante- chamber. " How dare you come in unsummoned, Diego ?'' cried Lord Roos, furiously. " Begone, instantly, sirrah I" " I crave your lordship's pardon," replied the Spanish servant ; " but I was obliged to apprise you that your wife, the Baroness Iloos,and Lady Lake, are without, and will not be denied admission." "Damnation !" exclaimed Lord Roos. "What brings them here at such an hour ? But you must on no account admit them, Diego — at least, till I have had time to remove the Countess to her own chamber. What a cursed mischance !" Diego instantly withdrew, apparently to obey his lord's command ; but he had scarcely entered the little passage when two ladies pushed past him, and made their way into the room. They arrived just in time to intercept Lord Roos, Avho was conveying his insen- sible burthen towards the secret staircase. The young nobleman was as much confounded by VOL. I. Q 22Q THE STAR-CHAMBER. their appearance as if two spectres had risen before him. Both ladies were very richly attired^ and the younger of the two was by no means destitute of beauty; though of a pale and pensive character. The elder had a fidl^ noljle figure^ haughty features^ now lighted up with a smile of triumph as she gazed on Lord Roos. Very different was the expression of the other^ A\'ho seemed so much grieved and agitated by what she beheld_, as to be almost ready to lapse into the same condition as the Countess. If Lord Roos could have seen the grin upon Diego's swarthv visajje, as he stood at the entrance of the passage leading to the ante-chamber^ he would have had little doubt to whom he was indebted for this surprise. It is needless to say that the ladies who had thus broken upon Lord Roos's privacy, and obtained full confirmation of their suspicions (if they had any doubts remaining) were his wife and mother-in-law. THE STAE-CHAMBER. 227 CHAPTER XXIII. THE TRESS OF HAIR. How to extricate himself from the dilemma in which he was placed^ Lord Roos scarcely knew. But he had a good deal of self-possession, and it did not desert him on the present trying occasion. After such consideration as circumstances permitted, he could discern only one chance of escape, and though well-nigh hopeless, he resolved to adopt it. If consummate audacity could carry him through — and it was required in the present emergency — ^he had no lack of it. Hitherto, not a word had passed between him and the intruders on his privacy. Lady Lake seemed to enjoy his confusion too much to do anythmg to relieve it, and his wife was obliged to regulate her movements by those of her mother. Without breaking the silence^ which by this time had become painfully oppressive, he proceeded to deposit the still inanimate person of the Countess of Exeter upon a couch, and, casting a handkerchief, as if undesignedly, over her face, he marched quickly up to the spot where Diego was standing, and said to him, in a deep, determined tone, but so low as not to be overheard by the others: Q 2 228 THE STAR-CHAMBER. ''You liave betrayed me^ villain; and unless you obey me unhesitatingly, and corroborate all my asser- tions, however startling they may appear, you, shall pay for your treachery with your life," This done, he turned towards the two ladies, and with more calmness than might have been expected, addressed himself to Lady Lake : " You imagine you have made an important dis- covery, madam," he said — "a discovery which will place me and a noble lady, whose reputation you and your daughter seek to injure, in great perplexity. And you conclude that, being comj)letely (as you fancy) in your poAver, I shall consent to any terms you and Lady Roos may propose, rather than suffer you to go forth from this chamber and reveal what you have seen in it. Is it not so, madam?" " Ay, my lord," Lady Lake replied, bitterly, " you have stated the matter correctly enough, except in one particular. We do not imcujvne we have made a dis- covery; because we are quite sure of it. We do not fancy you will agree to our terms; because we are cer- tain you will only too gladly screen yourself and the partner of your guilt from exposure and disgrace, at any sacrifice. And allow me to observe, that the tone adopted by your lordship is neither befitting the cir- cumstances in which you are placed, nor the presence in which you stand. Some sense of shame must at least be left you — some show of respect (if nothing more) ought to be observed towards your injm-ed wife. Were I acting alone in tliis matter, I would show you THE STAR-CHAMBER. 229 and my lady of Exeter no consideration whatever; but I cannot resist the pleadings of my daughter; and for her sake — and liers alone — I am content to suspend the blow, unless forced to strike; in which case, nothing shall stay my hands." '^ I thank yom- ladyship for yom- clemency," said Lord Roos, with mock humility. " O, my dear lord ! do not for ever close the door between us !" cried Lady Roos. " Retm^n to me, and all shall be forgiven." " Peace, Elizabeth !" exclaimed Lady Lake, im- patiently. " Know you not, from sad experience, that your husband is inaccessible to all gentle entreaty? His heart is steeled to pity. Solicit not that which is yom' right, and v/hich must be conceded, whether he like or not. Let him bend the knee to you. Let him promise amendment, and implore pardon, and it will then be for you to consider whether you will extend forgiveness to him." Lady Roos looked as if she would fain interrupt her mother, but she was too much vmder her subjection to offer a remark. '*■ It is time to undeceive you, madam," said Lord Roos, wholly unmoved by what Avas said. " I am not in the strait you suppose; and have not the slightest intention of soliciting Lady Roos's pardon, or making any promise to her." "O mother! you see that even you fail to move him," said Lady Roos, tearfully. " What is to hap- pen to me ?" 230 THE STAR-CHAMBER. " You will make me chide you, daughter, if you exhibit this weakness/' cried Lady Lake, angrily. " Let me deal with him. In spite of your affected confidence, my lord, you cannot be bhnd to the posi- tion in which you stand. And though you yourself personally may be careless of the consequences of a refusal of our demands, you cannot, I conceive, be equally indifferent to the fate of the Countess of Exeter, which that refusal will decide." " I am so little indifferent to the safety of the Countess, madam, that I cannot sufficiently rejoice that she is out of the reach of your malice." " How, my lord!" exclaimed Lady Lake, astounded at his assurance. " Out of reach, when she is here ! You cannot mean," she added, with an undefinable expression of satisfaction, " that she is dead ?" " Dead !" ejaculated Lady Roos; " the Countess dead ! I thought she was only in a swoon." "What riddle is it you would have us read, my lord?" demanded Lady Lake. " No riddle whatever, madam," replied Lord Roos. " I only mean to assert that the person you behold upon that couch is not the Countess of Exeter." " Not the Countess !" exclaimed Lady Roos. " Oh, if this were possible ! But no, no ! I cannot be deceived." " I now see the reason why her face has been covered with a 'kerchiefj" cried Lady Lake. "But it shall not save her from om' scrutiny." So saying, she advanced towards the couch, with the intention of removing the covering, when Lord Roos barred her approach. THE STAR-CHAMBER. 231 " Not a step nearer, madam/' lie cried, in a peremp- tory tone. " I will not allow you to gratify your curiosity further. You and Lady Roos may make the most of what yovi have seen; and proclaim abroad any tale your imaginations may devise forth. You will only render yourselves ridiculous, and encounter deri- sion in lieu of sympathy. No one will credit your assertions, because I shall be able to prove that at this moment Lady Exeter is in a different part of the palace." " This bold falsehood will not serve your turn, my lord. Whoever she may be, the person on that couch shall be seized, and we shall then ascertain the truth," And she would have moved towards the door, if Lord Roos had not caught hold of her arm, while at the same time he drew his sword. Thinking from his fierce looks and menacing gestures that her mother might be sacrificed to his fury. Lady Roos fell on her knees before him, imploring pity; and she continued in this supplicating postm-e till Lady Lake angrily bade her rise, ''You have come here without my permission, madam," Lord Roos cried furiously to his mother-in- law, " and you shall not depart until I choose, Secm-e the door, Diego, and bring me the key. It is well," he continued, as the injvmction was obeyed. Lady Lake submitted \vithout resistance to the constraint imposed upon her. She could not well do otherwise; for though her screams would have brought aid, it might have arrived too late. And, after all, she did not intend to settle matters in this way. But 232 THE STAR-CHAMBER. she betrayed no symptoms of fear, and, as we have stated, ordered her daughter to discontinue her sup- plications. "And now, madam," said Lord Roos, releasing Lady Lake, as he took the key from Diego, " I will tell you w^ho that person is," pointing to the couch. "Add not to the number of falsehoods you have already told, my lord," rejoined Lady Lake, con- temptuously. " I am perfectly aware who she is." " But I would fain hear his explanation, mother," said Lady Roos. "What explanation can be offered?" cried Lady Lake. " Do you doubt the evidence of your senses ?" " I know not what I doubt, or what I believe !" exclaimed Lady Eoos, distractedly. " Then believe what I tell you, Bess," said her hus- liand. " This is the countess's handmaiden, Gillian Greenford." "An impudent lie !" cried Lady Lake. " A truth, my lady," interposed Diego. "A truth to which I am ready to swear." "No dou])t of it, thou false knave, and double traitor ! thou art worth}' of thy lord. There is no lie, however absurd and improbable, which he can invent, that thou wilt not support. Thou art ready now to perjm-e thyself for him; but let him place little reliance on thee, for thou wilt do the same thing for us to-morrow." "I scarcely think it probable, my lady," Diego replied, bowing. Lady Lake turned from him in supreme disgust. THE STAR-CHAMBER. 333 '^ Admitting' for a moment the possibility of yovir lordship's assertion being correct/' said Lady E,oos, " how comes Gillian Greenford (for so methinks you name her) in her mistress's attire ?" "Tis easily explained, chuck/' Lord Roos rejoined. " Ajixious, no doubt, to set herself oif to advantage, she hath ma.de free with the countess's wardrobe. Your own favourite attendant, Sarah Swarton, hath often arrayed herself in your finest fardingales, kirtlets, and busk-points, as Diego will tell you. Is it not so, rascal?" " 'Tis precisely as my lord hath stated, my lady," said the Spaniard to Lady Roos. " When Sarah Swarton hath been so habited, I have more than once mistaken her for your ladyship." " Yet Sarah is very iinlike me," said Lady Roos. " That only shows how deceptive appearances are, chuck, and how little we ought to trust to them," observed Lord Roos. " How can you suffer yourself to be thus duped, Elizabeth?" said Lady Lake. " Because her ladyship would rather believe me than you, madam," rejoined Lord Roos. " But she is not duped." " Heaven forgive him !" exclaimed Diego, aside. " And supposing it were Gillian, how would the case be mended, as far as you are concerned, Elizabeth ?" said Lady Lake. " Ai'e you not as much injured by one as by the other ?" '^^It may be," replied her daughter, "but I am jealous only of the Countess. I would kneel to any 234 THE STAR-CHAMBER. other womaiij and thank her^ who wonld tear my hus- band from her embraces !" " Weak fool ! I diso\\ii you/' exclaimed Lady Lake, angrily. " What a wife \" cried Diego, apart. " His lordship is quite unworthy of her. Now I should appreciate such devotion.'^ At this juncture there was a slight movement on the part of Lady Exeter, and something like a sigh escaped her. " She revives !" whispered Lady Lake to her daughter. *■' We shall soon learn the truth. I will find a means to make her speak. Well, my lord," she added aloud, and speaking in a sarcastic tone, ^'if you will have it so, it is idle to dispute it. But what will the Countess say, when she discovers your infidehty?" On this a brisker movement took place on the couch, and a hand was raised as if to snatch away the 'kerchief. '^'We have her," whispered Lady Lake, triumphantly, to her daughter. " Surely," she proceeded aloud, " the Countess will deeply resent the transfer of your affections to her handmaiden." Lord Roos saw the peril in which he stood. A moment more, and Lady Lake had gained her point, and the Countess betrayed herself. " Lady Exeter v»"ill place little reliance on any representations you may make, madam," he said, giving particular significance to his words, "except so far as they concern herself, and then she will take care to refute them. As to the circumstance of Gillian THE STAR-CHAMBER. 235 Greenford visiting me, fainting in my arms (from excess of timidity, poor girl !) and being discovered by you and Lady E,oos in that position, the Countess will laugh at it when it comes to her knowledge — as why should she do otherwise ? But she will feel very differently when she finds that you and your daughter insist that it was she herself, and not her handmaiden, whom you beheld. Rely on it, madam. Lady Exeter wall contradict that assertion, and dis- prove it.^' ^' Let it be disproved now. Let the person on that couch disclose her features, and we shall then see whether she be the Countess or Gillian," "Ay, let her do that, my lord, — -let her speak to us," urged Lady Roos. *^ Biahlo ! how is this request to be complied with, I marvel?" said Diego, apart. But Lord Roos was too experienced a player to be defeated by this turn in the game. " Gillian has already been sufficiently annoyed," he cried; " and shall not submit to this ordeal. Besides, she has relapsed into insensibility, as you see." " She does what yom- lordship wills her, it is clear," said Lady Lake, contemptuously. "We know what construction to put upon yom* refusal." " I care not what construction you put upon it," cried Lord Roos, losing patience. "You and Lady Roos may think what you please, and act as you please. Enough for me that you can prove nothing." " Why, this is more like yourself, my lord," retorted Lady Lake, derisively. " Having thrown aside the 236 THE STAR-CHAMBER. mask^ you will be spared the necessity of further sub- terfuge. The Countess, doubtless, will imitate your example, lay aside her feigned insensibility, and defy us. She need be under no apprehension; since she has your own warrant that we can prove nothing." " Your purpose, I perceive, is to irritate me, madam," cried Lord Roos, fiercely; " and so far you are likely to succeed, though you fad in all else. I have no mask to throw off; but if you will have me declare myself your enemy, I am ready to do so. Henceforth, let there be no terms kept between us — let it be open warfare." " Be it so, my lord. And you will soon find who will be worsted in the struggle." " Oh, do not proceed to these fearful extremities, dear mother, and dearest husband !" cried Lady Roos, tm-ning from one to the other, imploringly. " Cease these provocations, I pray of you. Be friends, and not enemies." " As you please — peace or war ; it is the same to me," said Lord Boos. "■ Meantime, I am wearied of this scene, and must put an end to it. Diego !" And beckoning his servant to him, he whispered some directions in his ear. "■My lord shall be obeyed," said Diego, as he received his commission. " Gillian shall be conveyed with aU. care to her chamber." *' We must have some proof that she has been here," thought Lady Lake. " But how to obtain it ? I have it. Take these," she added, in a whisper to her daughter, and giving a pair of scissors; " and contrive, THE STAR-CHAMBER. 237 if possible, to sever a lock of her hair before she be removed." By a look, Lady Roos promised compliance. While this was passing, Diego had approached the couch ; and fastening the kerchief securely romid the Countess's face, he raised her in his arms, and moved towards the secret staircase, the tapestried covering of which was held aside by Lord Roos to give him passage. Rapidly as the Spaniard moved, he did not outstrip Lady Roos, whose design being favoured by the escape from its confinement of one of the Countess's lone- dark tresses, she had no difficulty of possessing herself of it in the manner prescribed by her mother. Lady Exeter was aware of the loss she had sustained, and uttered a stifled cry; but this was attributed to the fright natural to the occasion by Lord Roos, who had not noticed what had taken place, and only caused him to hurry Diego's departure. But before the latter had wholly disappeared with his burtlien, the per- famed and silken tress of hair was delivered to Lady Lake, who muttered triumphantly as she received it — " This will convict her. She cannot escape us now." The prize was scarcely concealed when Lord Roos, sheathing the sword Avhich he had hitherto held drawn, advanced towards his mother-in-law. " Now that the object of your disquietude is re- moved, madam, it will not be necessary to prolong this interview," he said. " Have we then your lordship's permission to depart?" rejoined Lady Lake, coldly. "We are not, I presume, to avail ourselves of the private means of 23S THE STAR-CHAMBER. exit contrived for your amorous adventures, lest we should make other discoveries." " Your ladyship Mall leave by the way you entered/' rejoined Lord Roos. " I will attend you to the door — and unfasten it for you." " Before we go, I would have a word with my husband — it may be my last," said Lady Roos to her mother. " I pray you withdraw a little, that we may be alone." " Better not," rejoined Lady Lake. But unable to resist her daughter's imploring looks, she added, " Well, as you will. But it is useless." With this she proceeded to the little passage, and remained there. As Lady Roos turned to her husband, she saw, from the stern and inflexible look he had assumed, that any appeal made to him would be imavaihng, and she attempted none. A moment elapsed before she eordd utter a word, and then it was only a mxu-mur to Heaven for guidance and support. ; " What say you, Elizabeth ?" demanded Lord Roos, thinking she had addressed him. " I asked for support from on high, William, and it has been accorded to me," she replied, in a low, sweet voice. " I can now speak to you. It is not to weary you with supplications or reproaches that I thus detain you. I have something to impart to you, and I am sure you will eagerly listen to it. Come nearer, that we may not be overheard." Lord Roos, whose curiosity was aroused hy her manner, obeyed her. THE STAR-CHAMBER. 239 " I am all attention/' he said, " I feel I am in your Avay^ William/' she rejoined^ in a deep whisper ; " and that you desire my death. Nay^ interrupt m.e not ; I am sure you desire it ; and I am equally sure that the desire will be gratified, and that you will kill me." " Kill you, Bess !" cried Lord Koos, startled. " How can you imagine aught so frightful ?" " There is a power granted to those who love deeply as I do, of seeing into the hearts of those they love, and reading their secrets. I have read yours, William. Nay, be not alarmed. I have kept it to myself hitherto, and mil keep it to the end. You wish me dead, I say: and you shall have your wish — but not in the way you propose. Having lost your love, I am become indifferent to life — or, rather, life is grow^n intolerable to me. But though death may be a release, it must not come from your hand." " You cannot mean to destroy yourself, Elizabeth ?" cried Lord Boos, appalled. "I mean to trouble you no longer. I mean to make the last and greatest sacrifice I can for you; and to save you from a crime — or, if you must share the crime, at least to screen you from punishment. Look here !" she added, producing a small phial. " Bid me drink of this, and ere to-morrow you are free, and I am at rest. Shall I do it ?" " No — no," rejoined Lord Boos, snatching the phial from her. " Live, Bess, live !" "Am I to live for you, William?" she cried, v\dth inexpressible joy. 240 THK STAR-CHAMBER. He made no answer, but averted his head. " In mercy, give me back the phial !" she exclaimed, again plunged into the depths of* despair. " I must refuse your request,^' he replied. " Have you done, Elizabeth T' demanded Lady Lake, coming forth from the passage. " A moment more, mother," cried Lady Roos. " One word — one look !" she added, to her husband. But he neither spoke to her, nor regarded her. " I am ready to accompany yovi noAV, mother,^' said the poor lady, faintly. "Nerve yourself, weak-hearted girl," said Lady Lake, in a low tone, " Revenge is ours." " If I coidd only strike her without injuring him, I should not heed," thought Lady Roos. " But where he suffers, I must also suffer, and yet more acutely." And scarcely able to support herself, she followed her mother to the door of the ante-chamber, which was unlocked, and thrown open for them by her husband. He did not bid her farewell. As Lady Lake passed forth, she paused for a moment, and said — " To-morrow, my lord, Ave will ascertain whether the tress of hair we have obtained from the fair visitant to your chamber matches Avith that of Gillian Greenford or Avith the ra\^en locks of the Countess of Exeter." And satisfied A\'ith the effect produced by this menace, she departed Avith her daughter before Lord Roos could utter a reply. THE STAR-CHAMBER. 241 CHAPTER XXIV. THE FOUNTAIN COURT. On the morning' after the eventful passage in his life pre\aously related, our newly-created knight Avas standing, in a pensive attitude, beside the beautiful fountain, adorned Nvith two fair statues, representing the Queen of Love and her son, heretofore descri])ed as placed in the centre of the great quadrangle of the Palace of Theobalds. Sir Jocelyn was listening to the plashing of the sparkling jets of water, as they rose into the air and fell back into the broad marble basin, and appeared to be soothed by the pleasant sound. His breast had been agitated by various and conflicting- emotions. In an incredil^ly short space of time events- had occurred, some of which seemed likely to influence the whole of his future career ; while one of them, though it had advanced him far beyond what he could have anticipated, appeared likely to mar altogether his prospects of happiness. Though the difficulties, therefore, that surrounded him had been unexpectedly overcome ; though, by the exertions of the Conde de Gondomar, who had followed ■VOL. T. K 242 THE STAR-CHAMBER. up his first success with wouderful promptitude and perseverance, and had dexterously contrived, by all the insidious arts of which he was so perfect a master, to ingratiate his protdgd still further ^dth the king, without the protegd himself being aware of the manner in which he was served; though James himself ap- peared greatly pleased A\4th him, at the banquet in the evening, to which, owing to the skilfid management of the Spanish ambassador, he was invited, and bestowed such marked attention upon him that the envy and jealousy of most of the coiu'tiers were excited by it; though he seemed on the high-road to still greater favom-, and w^as ah-eady looked upon as a rising favourite, who might speedily supplant others above him in this ever-changing sphere, if he did not receive a cheek ; though his present position was thus com- paratively secure, and his prospects thus brilliant, he felt ill at ease and deeply dissatisfied with himself. He could not acquit himself of lilame for the pai-t he had played, though involuntarily, in the arrest of Hugh Calveley. It was inexpressibly painful to him ; and he felt it as a reproach from which he could not free himself, to have risen, however unexpectedly on his own part, by the unfortunate Puritan^s fall. How could he ever face Aveline again ? She must regard him wTLth horror and detestation, as the mvoluntary cause of her father's destruction. A bar had been placed between them, which nothing could ever remove. And though, on the one hand, he was suddenly exalted far beyond his hopes, yet, on the other, he was as sud- THE STAR-CHAMBER. 243 denly cast down, and tlireatened to be for ever de- prived of the bliss he had in view, the possession of which he coveted far more than wealth or grandeur. Additional complexity had been given to his position from the circumstance that, at De Gondomar^s secret instance, of which, like all the rest, he was unaware, he had been appointed as officer in custody of Hugh Calveley, until the latter, who was still detained a close prisoner in the porter's lodge, should be removed to the Tower, or the Fleet, as his Majesty might direct. This post he Avould have declined, had there been a possibility of doing so. Any plan he might have formed of aiding the prisoner's escape was thus effectually prevented, as he could not \'iolate his duty; and it was probably with this view that the wily am- bassador had obtained him the appointment. In fact, he had miconsciously become little more than a puppet in the hands of the plotting Spaniard, who pidled the strings that moved him at pleasure, regardless of the consequences. What De Gondomar's ulterior designs were with him, had not yet become manifest. These perplexing thoughts swept through Sir Jocelyn's breast, as he stood by the marble fountain, and listened to the sound of its falling waters. While thus occupied, he perceived two persons issue from the arched entrance fronting the gate (adjoining the porter's lodge, in which the prisoner was still detained), and make their way slowly across the quadrangle, in the direction of the cloister on its 11 2 244 THE STAR-CHAMBER. eastern side, above which were apartments assigned to the Secretary of State, Sir Thomas Lake. The foremost of the two was merely a yeoman of the guard, and would not for a moment have attracted Sir Jocelyn's attention, if it had not been for a female who accompanied him, and Avhom he was evidently conducting to Sir Thomas Lake's rooms, as Sir Jocelyn not only saw the man point towards them, l)ut heard him mention the Secretary of State's name. Something whispered him that this closely-hooded female — the lower part of whose face was shrouded in a muffler, so that the eyes alone were visible — was Aveline. Little could be discerned of the features ; but the exquisitely-proportioned figure, so simply yet so tastefiilly arrayed, coidd only be hers; and if he could have doubted that it was Aveline, the sudden- ness with which her looks were averted as she beheld him, and the quickness ^\dth which she stepped for- ward, so as even to outstrip her companion — these cir- cumstances, coupled with the \dolent throbbing of his own heart, convinced him he was right. He would have flown after her, if he had dared; would have poured forth all his passionate feelings to her, had he been permitted; would have oftei'ed her his life, to deal with as she pleased ; but his fears restrained him, and he remained riveted to the spot, gazing after her until she entered the great hall on the ground floor, beneath the Secretary of State's apartments. Why she sought Sir Thomas Lake he could easily under- THE STAU-CHAMBER. 245 stand. It was only from him that authority to vLsit her father could be obtained. After remaining- irresolute for a few minutes, during which the magnificent structure around him faded entirely from his view like a vision melting into air, and he heard no more the pleasant plashing of the fountain, he proceeded to the great hall near the cloister, resolved to wait there till her return. 24 G THE STAR-CHAMBER. CHAPTER XXV. SIR THOMAS LAKE. A GRAVE-LOOKING man, of a melanclioly and severe aspect, and attired in a loose robe of black velvet, was seated alone in a cliamljer, tlie "wdndows of which, opened upon the Fountain Court, which we have just quitted. He wore a silken skull-cap, from beneath which a few gre}' hairs escaped; his brow was fui'- rowed mth innumerable vTinkles, occasioned as much by thought and care as by ag-e ; his pointed beard and moustaches were almost white, contrasting strikingly with his dark, jaundiced complexion, the result of an atrabilarious temperament ; his person was extremely attenuated, and his hands thin and bony. He had once been tall, but latterly had lost much of his height, in consequence of a cm'vature of the spine, which bowed dowm his head almost upon his breast, and fixed it immovably in that position. His featm'es were good, but, as we have stated, were stamped ^^'itll melancholy, and sharpened by severity. This person was Sir Thomas Lake, Secretary of State. THE STAR-CHAMBER. 247 The table at which he sat was strewn over \vith official documents and papers. He was not^ however, examining any of them, but had just liroken the seal of a private packet which he had received from his wife, when an usher entered, and intimated that a young maiden, who was without, solicited a moment's audience. The request would have been refused, if the man had not gone on to say that he believed the ap- plicant was the daughter of the crazy Puritan w^ho had threatened the King's life on the previous day. On hearing this, Sir Thomas consented to see her, and she was admitted accordingly. As soon as the usher had retired, Aveline unmuffled herself, and, cold and apathetic as he was. Sir Thomas could not help being struck by her surpassiug beauty, unimpaired even by the affliction under which she labom-ed; and he consequently softened in some degree the customary asperity of his tones in addressing her. "Who are you, maiden, and what seek you?" he demanded, eyeing her with curiosity. " I am daughter to the unfortunate Hugh Calveley, now a prisoner in the palace," she replied. " I am sorry to hear it," rejoined Sir Thomas, re- suming his habitually severe expression; "for you are the daughter of a very heinous offender. The enormity of Hugh Calveley's crime, which is worse than parri- cide, deprives him of all human sympathy and com- passion. In coming to me you do not, I presume, intend to weary me with prayers for mercy: for none is deserved, and none will be shown. For my own 348 THE STAR-CHAMBER. part, I shall not utter a Avord in mitigation of tlie di-eadful sentence certain to be pronounced upon him; nor shall I ad%dse the slig-htest clemency to be showm him on the part of his Majesty. Such an offender cannot be too severely punished. I do not say this/' he continued^ somewhat softening his harshness, " to aggravate the distress and shame you naturally feel; but I wish to check at once any hopes you may have formed. Yet, though I have no] pity for him, I have much for you, since, doubtless, you are innocent of all knowledge of your father's atrocious design — happily prevented. And I would therefore say to you, shut out all feelings for him fi-om your heart. The man who raises his hand against his Sovereign cuts off by the act all ties of kindred and love. Affection is chang^ed to abhorrence; and such detestation does his horrible offence inspire, that those of his oa\ti blood are bound to shun him, lest he derive comfort and consolation from their presence. Thus considered, you are no longer his daughter, for he has himself severed the links between you. You no longer owe him filial duty and regard, for to such he is no more entitled. Leave him to his fate; and, if possilile, for ever obliterate his memory from your breast." " You counsel what I can never perform, honourable sir," replied Aveline; "and were he even branded like Cain, I coidd not shut my heart towards him. Nothing can make me forget that I am his daughter. That his offence will be dreadfully expiated, I do not doubt; but if I can allcA-iate his sufferings in any way, I ^^all THE STAR-CHAMBER. 249 do so; and I will never cease to plead for mercy for him. And O, honourable, sir ! you regard his offence in a darker light than it deserves. You treat him as if he had actually accomplished the direful pm-pose attributed to him; whereas nothing has been proven against him beyond the possession of a weapon, which he might keep about his person for self-defence." " The plea you urge is futile, maiden," rejoined Sir Thomas; "he is judged out of his own mouth, for his own lips have avowed his criminal intentions." " Still it was but the intention, honourable sir !" '' In such cases, the intention is equal to the crime — at least in the eyes of law and justice. No plea will save Hugh Calveley. Of that rest assm-ed." " One plea may be urged for him, which, whether it avail or not, is the truth, and shall be made. It is painful to speak of my father as I must now do; but there is no help for it. Of late years he has been subject to strange mental hallucinations, which have bordered close upon madness, if they have not reached that terrible point. Nocturnal vigils, fastings, and prayers, have affected his health. He has denied him- self sufficient rest, and has only partaken of food barely sufficient to sustain nature, and no more. The con- sequence has been, that strange fancies have troubled his brain; that at dead of night, when alone in his chamber, he has imagined that visions have appeared to him; that voices have spoken— awful voices — talk- ing of prophecies, lamentations, and judgments, and charging him with a mighty and terrible mission. All 250 THE STAR-CHAMBER. these things I have heard from his own lips, and I have heard and seen much more, which has satisfied me that his intellects are disordered, and that he can- not be held accountable for his actions." '^ If such be the case, he should have been kept under restraint, and not suffered to go abroad," said Sii* Thomas. " Such madmen are highly mischievous and dangerous. ]\luch blame rests with you, maiden." " The whole blame is mine !" she exclaimed; " I confess my error — my crime — and will atone for it willingly with my Hfe, proAdded he be spared. If a sacrifice must be made, let me be the victim." " There is no sacrifice, and no victim," retm-ned Sir Thomas, gravely, though he was not unmoved by her filial devotion. " There is an offender, and there will be justice; and justice must be satisfied. Inexorable as fate, her dread sentences cannot be averted." " O, honoiu'able sir ! you may one day recall those words; for which of us can hold himself free from offence ? My father is not guilty in the eyes of Heaven; or if he be, I am equally culpable, since I ought to have prevented the commission of the crime. O, I shall never forgive myself that I did not follow him when he parted from me yesterday !" " Let me hear how that occurred, maiden ?" asked Sir Thomas. '^It chanced in this way, sir. I have already described my father's state of mind, and the distem- pered view he has been accustomed to take of all things. Yesterday, May-day sports were held in the THE STAR-CHAMBER. 251 village of Tottenham^ where we dwelt; and as such things are an abomination in his sight, he took upon him to reprove the actors in the pastimes. They who wit- nessed his conduct on that occasion would hardly hold him to be under the due control of reason. Amongst the spectators was the son of an old friend, whose name having accidentally reached my father, he invited him into the house, and a misunderstanding having arisen between them, the latter suddenly left — dis- missed almost with rudeness. On his departure, my father was greatly disturbed — more so than I have ever seen him. After awhile, he withdrew to his own chamber, as was his habit, to pray, and I hoped would become tranquillized; but the very reverse happened, for when he reappeared, I saw at once that a fearful change had taken place in him. His eye blazed wdth preternattu-al light, his gestures were wild and alarm- ing, and his language fidl of menace and denunciation. He again spoke of his mission from Heaven, and said that its execution could no longer be delayed." " This should have been a warning to you," observed Sir Thomas, knitting his brows. " It should, honourable sir. But I did not profit by it. I knew and felt that he was no longer under the dominion of reason — that he was labouring under some terrible delusion that approached its crisis; but I did not check him. I yielded passive obedience to his injunction that I should dej^art instantly with an old servant to London; and I agreed to tarry at a house which he mentioned till I heard from him. I had sad 252 THE STAR-CHAMBER. foreboding's that I should never hear from him again— or if I (Vu}, that the tidings would be worse than none at all; but I obeyed. I could not, indeed, resist his will. I set forth with my attendant, and my father parted with us at the door. He placed money in my hand, and bade me farewell ! but in such a tone, and A^ath such a look, that I felt his senses were gone, and I would have stayed him, but it was then too late. Breaking from my embrace, he sprang upon his horse, which was ready saddled, and rode off, taking the direction of Edmonton; while I, with a heart full of distress and misgiving, pursued my way to London. Ere midnight, my sad presentiments were verified. A messenger traced me out, bringing intelligence of the direful event that had happened, and informing me that my father was a prisoner at Theobalds. As soon as I could procure means of reaching the palace, I set forth, and arrived here about an hour ago, when, fail- ing in my efforts to obtain an interview with my father, who is closely confined, and none suffered to come near him save with authority from the Secretary of State, I sought an audience of you, honourable sir, in the hope that you would grant me permission to see him." " If I do grant it, the interview miist take place in the presence of the officer to whom his custody has been committed," replied Sir Thomas. " With this restriction, I am willing to sign an order for you." " Be it as you please, honourable sir ; and take my heartfelt gratitude for the grace." THE STAR-CHAMBER. 253 Sir Thomas struck a small bell upon the table, and the usher appeared at the summons. *' Bid the officer in charge of Ilug-h Calveley attend lae/' he said. The man bowed, and departed. Sir Thomas Lake tlien turned to the paper which he had just opened before Aveline's appearance, and was soon so much engrossed by it that he seemed quite unconscious of her presence. His countenance became gloomier and more austere as he read on, and an expression of pain — almost a groan — escaped him. He appeared then to feel sensible that he had com- mitted an indiscretion, for he laid doAvn the paper, and, as if forcibly diverting himself from its contents, addressed Aveline. " What you have said respecting your father's con- dition of mind," he observed, " by no means convinces me that it is so unsound as to render him irresponsible for his actions. It were to put a charitable construction upon his conduct to say that no one but a madman could be capable of it ; but there was too much con- sistency in what he has said and done to admit of such an inference. But for the interposition of another person he owned that he would have killed the King; and the disappointment he exhibited, and the language he used, prove such to have been his fixed intention. His mind may have been disturbed ; but what of that ? AH who meditate great crimes, it is to be hoped, are not entirely masters of themselves. Yet for that reason they are not to be exempt from punishment. 254 THE STAR-CHAMBER. He who is sane enough to conceive an act of wicked- ness, to plan its execution^ and to attempt to perpetrate it, although he may be in other respects of unsettled mind, is equally amenable to the law, and ought equally to suffer for his criminality with him who has a wiser and sounder head upon his shoulders." Aveline attempted no reply, but the tears sj)rang to her eyes. At this moment the door was throwTi open by the usher to admit Sir Joeelyn INIounchensey. The emotion displayed by the young couple when thus brought together passed imnotieed by the Secre- tary of State, as he was occupied at the moment in ■wi-iting the authority for AveHne, and did not raise his eyes towards them. '''' Are you the officer to whom my father's custody has been entrusted ?" exclaimed Aveline, as soon as she could give utterance to her sm-prise. " Why do you ask that question, mistress ?" demanded Sir Thomas, looking up. " What can it signify to you who hath custody of your father, pro- \dded o'ood care be taken of him ? There is a Latin maxim which his Majesty cited at the banquet last night — Etiani aconito inest remedrn'm — and which may be freely rendered by our homely saying, that ' It is an ill wind that blovv^eth nobody good luck ;' and this hath proved true with Sir Joeelyn Mounchensey — for the gust that hath wrecked your father hath diiven him into port, where he now rides securely in the sun- shine of the king-'s favour. Nor is this to be wondered THE STAR-CHAMBER, 255 at, since it was by Sir Joeelyn that his Majesty's life was preserved." " The King preserved by him !" exclaimed Aveline, in bewilderment. "Ay, marry and indeed, young mistress," rejoined Sir Thomas, " He arrested the fell traitor ; was knighted on the spot for the service by the king ; was in^dted afterwards to the grand banquet in the evening, and received with more distinction than any other guest; and he is now, as you find, entrusted with the custody of the prisoner. Thus, if your father has done little good to himself, he hath done much to Sir Joeelyn." Aveline could not repress an exclamation of anguish. " No more of this, I entreat. Sir Thomas," cried Sir Joeelyn. " It is right she should hear the truth," replied the Secretary of State. " Here is her authority for admittance to her father," he continued, giving it to him. " It must take place in your presence, Sir Joeelyn. And you will pay strict attention to what they say," he added in a low tone, " for you will have to report all that passes between them to the council. Something may arise to implicate the girl herself^ so let nought escape you. Be vigilant in your office, as is needful. I mention this as you are new to it. If the prisoner continues obstinate, as he hath hitherto shoAvn himself, threaten him with the torture. The rack will certainly be applied when he reaches the Tower, I need not give you further instructions I 256 THE STAR-CHAMBER. tliiakj Sir Jocelyn. Be pleased to return to me when the interview is over." Upon this, he bowed gravely, and sounded the bell for the usher. Unable to offer any remonstrance, Sir Joceljai approached Aveline, who could scarcely sup- port herself, ■\^-ith the intention of offering her assist- ance ; but she shrank from him, and again muffling her face, went forth, while he slowly followed her. THE STAR-CHAMBER. 25' CHAPTER XXVI. THE FORGED CONFESSION. Some little time had elapsed since Aveline's depar- ture on her sorrowful errand, and Sir Thomas Lake was stUl alone, and once more deeply engrossed in the consideration of the document, which, it will he recol- lected, had occasioned him so much disquietude ; and the feeling by no means diminished when the usher entered and announced Lady Lake. Severe and in- flexible as we have described him, the Secretary of State was generally yielding enough towards his lady, of whom he stood in great awe, and whom he treated with the utmost deference ; but on this occasion, con- trary to habitude, he received her very coldly, and without rising, motioned her to a seat beside him. Disregarding the want of attention, which, under other circumstances, she would have resented. Lady Lake took the seat indicated without remark, and con- tinued silent till the usher had retired. Tlien turning quickly towards her husband, and fixing an inquiring look upon him, she said, in a low voice — " What think you of this document, Sir Thomas ?" VOL. I. s 258 THE STAR-CHAMBER. " This forgeiy ?" lie rejoined in tlie same tone, bnt without raising his eyes towards her. " Kj, this forgery, if you choose to call it so/' she retm-ned. " Let me have your opinion upon it. Is it as it should be ? Are its expressions such as Avould be used by a guilty w^oman, like the Countess, imploring pity, and seeking to shield herself from disgrace ? Do you find fault with it ? Can it be amended in any particidar ?" " I find such grave fiiult with it/' replied the Secre- tary of State, still ^vithout looking up, " that I would amend it by casting it into the flames. Lady Lake, it is my duty to warn you. This is a fearful crime you would commit, and severely punishable by the law. You may excuse it to yourself, because you have an end in view which seems to justify the means ; but the excuse will not avail you with others. You have said that in a conflict with one so cimnuig and unscrupulous as our noble son-in-law, you are com- pelled to fight him Avith his own weapons — to meet trick \vith trick, manoeuvi'e with manoeuvre ; but take my word for it, you would more easily defeat him by straight-forward means. Be ruled by me in this one instance. Abandon a scheme which must inevitably lead to consequences I shudder to contemplate ; and let this fabricated confession be destroyed." " Give it me," she cried, snatching the paper from him. " You were ever timid, Su' Thomas ; and if you had not lacked courage, this expedient would not have been necessary. Odious and dangerous as it is, the -THE STAR-CHAMBER. 259 measure is forced upon me, and I shall not shrink from it. But you shall not be called upon to play any part in the transaction. I alone will do it. I alone will be responsible for all that may ensue." ''We shall all be responsible V he rejoined. " You will not only ruin yourself, but all your family, if this fearful step be taken. Hitherto we have had right on our side, but henceforth we shall be more culpable than the others." " I am resolved upon the course," cried Lady Lake ; " and all your arguments, all your warnings, will not dissuade me from it, so you may spare your breath. Sir Thomas. As you see, I have omitted the charge of witchcraft, and have only made the Countess con- fess her criminality with Lord Roos, and of this we have had abundant proofs ; nay, we should have them still, if those condemnatory letters of hers, which had come into our possession, had not been stolen. That mischance necessitates the present measure. Having managed to deprive us of our weapons. Lord Roos thinks himself secure. But he Avill find his mistake when this document is produced to confound him." '^ I tremble at the thought," groaned the Secretary of State. " These fears are worse than womanish," exclaimed his lady. " Shake them ofi^ and be yourself. Who is to prove that the confession proceeds not from the Countess ? Not she herself; since no one wiU believe her. Not Lord Boos; for he wiU. be equally dis- credited. Not Diego; for his testimony would be s 2 200 THE STAR-CHAMBER. valueless. The Countess's handwriting has been so skilfully imitated that the falsification cannot be de- tected. Compare it with this note written by herself to Lady Roos, and which, though it proves nothing, has so far answered my purpose. Compare, I say, the writing of the confession and the signature with this note, and declare if you can discern any difference between them. As to the signatures of Lord Roos and Diego affixed to the document, they are equally well simulated." " That the forgeiy is skilfully executed, I do not deny,'' replied the Secretary of State ; " and that cir- cumstance, though it does not lessen the crime, may lessen the chance of detection. Since nothing I can urge will turn you from your design, and you are de- termined to employ this dangerous instrument, at least be cautious in its use. Terrify Lord Roos with it, if you choose. Threaten to lay it before the Earl of Exeter — before the King himself — in case of our son-in-law's non-comjiliance with your demands. But beware how you proceed further. Do not part with it for a moment ; so that, if need be, you may destroy it. Do you heed me, my lady ?" " I do. Sir Thomas," she replied. " Be assured I will act with due caution. I am glad to find you are coming round to my views, and are disposed to coun- tenance the measure." " I countenance it !" exclaimed the Secretary of State, in alarm. " No such thing. I disapprove of it entirely, and cannot suflftciently reprehend.it. But, THE STAR-CHAMBER. 261 as I well know, when you have once made up your mind, the fiend himself cannot turn you from your purpose, I give you the best counsel I can under the circumstances. I wash my hands of it altogether. Would to heaven I had never been consulted upon it — never even been made acquainted with the project. However, as you have gone so far ^\dth me you may go a step further, and let me know what story you mean to attach to this confession? How will you feign to have obtained it ?" " The statement I shall make will be this, and it will be borne out by so many corroborative circum- stances that it will be impossible to contradict it. You observe that the document is dated on the 10th of April last. It is not without reason that it is so dated. On that day I and om' daughter. Lady Roos, attended by her maid, Sarah Swarton, proceeded to the Earl of Exeter's residence at Wimbledon, for the purpose of having an interview with the Countess, and we then saw her in the presence of Lord Roos and his servant Diego." "But you gained nothing by the journey?" re- marked her husband. "Your pardon, Sir Thomas," she rejoined; "I gained this confession. On the way back I reflected upon what had occurred, and I thought how flushed with triumph I should have been, if, instead of meet- ing with discomfiture, I had gained my point — if I had brought the haughty Countess to her knees — had compelled her to write out and sign a full avowal of 263 THE STAR-CHAMBER. her guilt J coupled with supplications for forgiveness from my injured daughter and myself — and as a re- finement of revenge^ had forced Lord Roos and his servant to attest by their signatures the truth of the confession ! I thought of this — and incensed that I had not done it^ resolved it should be done/^ " An ill resolve/^ muttered her husband. " In Luke Hatton, our apothecary, I had the man for my piu'pose," pm-sued Lady Lake. " Aware of his marvellous talent for imitating any writing he pleased — aware, also, that I could entii-ely rely upon him, I resolved to call in his aid." " Imprudent woman ! You have placed yourself wholly in his power," groaned Sir Thomas. " Suppose he shoxild betray the terrible trust you have reposed in him ?" " He will not betray it," replied Lady Lake. " He is too deeply implicated in the matter not to keep silence for his own sake. But to proceed. The docu- ment, such as you see it, was drawn out by myself and transcribed by Luke Hatton, and the waiting so admirably counterfeited that Lady Exeter herself may well doubt if it be not her own. Then, as to the cir- cumstances, they will aU bear me out. We were known to have been at Wimbledon on the day in question. We were known to have had an interview with Lady Exeter, at which Lord Roos and Diego were present. The interview was private, and there- fore no one can tell what took place at it ; but the THE STAR-CHAMBER. 263 probabilities are that what I shaR assert really did occur." Sir Thomas signified his assent^ and she went on. '^The plot is well contrived, and, with prudent management, cannot fail of success. "We have the time of the supposed occurrence — the actors in it — and the scene — for I shall describe the particular room in which the interview really did take place, and I shall further bring forward Sarah Swarton, who ^dll declare that she was concealed behind the hangings, and heard the Countess read over the confession before she signed it." '^'^ Another party to the afiau- — and a woman!" ejaculated Sir Thomas. "The dangers of discovery are multiplied a hmidi-edfold." " The danger exists only in your imagination," said his lady. " Come, admit. Sir- Thomas, that the scheme is well contrived, and that they must be cmming indeed if they escape from the meshes I have woven for them." " You have displayed ingenuity enough, I am free to own, if it had been directed to a better end; but in the best contrived scheme some flaw is ever found which is sure to mar it." "You can detect no flaw in this I am persuaded. Sir Thomas. If you can, let me know it." " Nay, it is only when too late that such things are found out. The supposed armour of proof is then found wanting at some vital point. However, I will 2G4 THE STAR-CHAMBER. say no more," he observed, perceiving her impatience. "What is done cannot be undone. Have you prepared our daughter? Will she consent to aid you?" " She will/' replied Lady Lake. " I had some difficulty with her at first, but I found means to over- rule her scruples, and she consented at last to act as I desired, provided all other means failed of accomplish- ing the object in view. And they ha\:e failed since we have lost those letters, for though I have one other proof left which might perhaps be adduced, I do not attach much importance to it." "What is it?" inquired Sir Thomas, quicldy. " You shall know, anon," she answered. " Suffice it, I have done all I could to avoid having recourse to the present measure, and have delayed its execution to the last moment." " But that proof of which you were speaking?" cried Sir Thomas. " Let me hear it. Perhaps it may obviate the necessity of this dangerous proceeding." "I do not think so. But you shall judge. Last night, om* daughter and myself obtained secret admit- tance to Lord Roos's chamber, and we foimd the ' Covmtess there, and fainting in his arms." '^Why, that is enough to convict them ! You want nothing more." " Hear me to an end, and you will change yom* opinion. Placing the inanimate Countess on a couch, and covering her face with a handkerchief, Lord Boos had the effrontery to assert that we wei-e mistaken; in- sisting that it was not Lady Exeter we beheld, but THE STAR-CHAMBER. 265 her hand-maiden, Gillian Greenford : and he appealed to the perfidious knave, Diego, in confirmation of his assertion." ^'But yon did not leave mthout satisfying yourselves of the truth?" demanded Sir Thomas. " His lordship took care we should have no means of doing so," she answered. " He caused Diego to convey her away by a secret stau-case." "^Sdeath! that was milucky. You have no proof then that it was the Countess you beheld?" " Nothing beyond a lock of her hair, which was secured by Lady Roos as the man was removing her." " That may be enough," cried the Secretary of State; "and prevent the necessity of resorting to this frightfid expedient. We must see the girl, and inter- rogate her. Gillian Greenford you say she is called. She shall be brought hither at once." " It is possible she may be without," returned Lady Lake. " Before I came here, I summoned her in your name." "We will see," cried Sir Thomas, striking upon the bell. And the usher, appearing to the summons, in- formed him that in eflEect the damsel in question was in attendance. " She seems much alarmed. Sir Thomas," said the usher, " and has with her a young man, who appears to take a tender interest in her, and wishes to be present at the investigation." "Let him come in with her," said the Secretary of State. And seeing the usher pause, he inquired if he had anything further to say. 266 THE STAR-CHAMBER. " His Excellency the Spanish Ambassador and my Lord Roos are without, and desire admittance/' re- plied the man. Sir Thomas consulted his lady Ijy a look; and as she made no objection, he signified his pleasure that they should be admitted, and accordingly the door was thrown open for the entrance of all the persons mentioned. Gniian came first, and seemed much embarrassed by the situation in which she found herself. She had been well tutored for the part she had to play; but the instructions she had received entu-ely fled from her mind as she found herself ia the presence of two such awful personages as Su' Thomas Lake and his lady, both of whom fixed keen glances upon her. Feeling ready to di-op with fright, she looked at Dick Taverner, as if imploring his support. But this Dick declined to afford. His jealousy having been roused by what he had heard, he determined to be governed in his conduct towards her by the result of the investiga- tion. Accordingly, though it cost him an effort, he held back. As the Conde de Gondomar appeared. Sir Thomas Lake arose, and made him a profoimd saluta- tion, which was returned %vith equal ceremony by the Spanish Ambassador. The latter, however, did not take a seat, but remained standing with Lord Roos, whose presence was acknowledged by a cold and distant bow from his father-in-law. The young nobleman did not appear in the shghtest degree disconcerted by the reception he met with, or apprehensive of the result of THE STAR-CHAMBER. 267 the investigation. He jested apart with De Gondomar; and both he and the Spanish Ambassador appeared greatly amused by Gillian's embarrassment. Behind him stood his servant Diego. " You are handmaiden to the Countess of Exeter, I presume/' demanded Lady Lake of the damsel. " I am, my lady/' she answered. " The girl does not look as if the imputations cast upon her character can be true/' observed Sii- Thomas Lake. As this was said, poor Gillian became suffused with blushes, and hung her head. "Before I put any fm-ther questions to her," re- marked Lady Lake, " I will ask Lord Boos if he still persists in affirming that it was this damsel who visited him last night ?" . Dick Taverner looked as if his fate depended upon the response the young nobleman might make to the inqviiry. " I must decline to answer your ladyship's question," returned Lord Boos, "Wliy cannot he speak out?" muttered Dick. " This uncertainty is worse than anytliing." "What says the damsel herself?" observed Sir Thomas Lake. " Does she admit the charge ?" " You cannot expect her to do that, Sn Thomas," interposed Lord Boos. " I expect her to answer my question," rejoined the Secretary of State, sharply. "Were you in Lord Boos's room last night ?" he added, to Gillian. 268 THE STAR-CHAMBER. " Oh, (lear ! I am ready to faint," she exclaimed. " Catch me, Dick — catch me I" *' Answer 'yes' or 'no/ or I won't," he rejoined. " Well, then, ' yes !' if I must say something," she replied. Poor Dick fell back, as if struck by a shot. " I don't believe it," cried Sir Thomas. " Nor I either," said Dick, recovering himself. " I don't believe she could do such a wicked thing. Be- sides, it was the foreign ambassador, there," he added, pointing to De Gondomar, "who seemed most ena- mom-ed of her yesterday; and I shouldn't have been so much surprised if she had gone to see him. Perhaps she did,'^ he continued, addressing the poor damsel, who again hung her head. " I can take upon me to affirm that such was not the case," observed De Gondomar. " Have you the lock of hair with you ?" wliispered Sir Thomas to his lady. " I have," she replied, taking a small packet from her bosom. The movement did not pass unnoticed by Lord Roos and the Spanish Ambassador, between whom an almost imj)ereeptible smile passed. " If you have put all the interrogations you desire to make to Gillian, madam," said Lord Roos to liis mother-in-law, " perhaps she may be permitted to de- part ? The situation cannot be agreeable to her." " A moment more, my lord," cried Lady Lake. " If THE STAR-CHAMBER. 269 I detain her, it is to clear her character. I know her to be perfectly innocent." At this announcement Dick Taverner's countenance brightened, and he extended his arms towards Gillian, who gladly availed herself of his support. " I am quite sm'e she was not the person I surprised in yoiu- chamber last night," continued Lady Lake. " Indeed, madam ! How do you arrive at that con- viction ?" " Because that person's hair was jet black, whereas Gillian's, as we see, is of the exactly opposite colour." Dick Taverner could not help pressing his lips against the back of the pretty damsel's neck as this was uttered. "Yom- proof of this, madam?" demanded Lord Roos. " Behold it !" she cried. " This lock of hair was cut off before your visitant escaped, and has remained in my possession ever since. Ha ! how is this ?" she exclaimed, as she imfolded the packet, and disclosed a tress of fair hair, evidently matching Gillian's lint- white locks. " What transformation has taken place ! Witchcraft has been practised. This is the Countess's work." " The minion must have been there, after all," cried Dick Taverner, thrusting Gillian from him. " The charge of witchcraft will not serve your tm'u, madam," said Lord Roos, derisively. " The explana- tion is simple. Your eyes have deceived you." 270 THE STAR-CHAMBER. "Most palpablT," cried the Conde de Gondomar, who had caught Gillian in his arms^ as the jealous apprentice cast her from him. " I am afraid her lady- ship cannot see very clearly." '^ I see clearly enough that a trick has been prac- tised upon me/^ Lady Lake rejoined sharply. " But let Lord Roos look to himself I will have my revenge, and a temble one it shall be." " Do not commit yourself/' said Su' Thomas in a low tone. '' Yom' business here is at an end, fair maiden," said the Conde de Gondomar to Gillian; " and as your lover abandons you, I am ready to take charge of you." So saying he led her forth, followed by Lord Roos, whose smile of triumph exasperated his mother-in-law almost beyond endurance. For a moment Dick Taverner remained irresolute; but his mistress had no sooner disappeared, than he rushed after her, vowing he would have her back if it cost him his life. THE STAU-CH AMBER. 271 CHAPTER XXVII. THE puritan's PRISON. Hugh Calveley, it has already been intimated, was lodged in a vault beneath the gateway. The place was commonly used as a sort of black-hole for the imprisonment of any refractory member of the royal household;, or soldier on guard guilty of neglect of duty. Circular in shape, it contained a large pillar, to which iron rings and chains were attached. The walls were of stone, the roof arched with ribs spring- ing ft-om the pillar that supported it, and the floor was paved. "Window there was none; but air was admitted through a small grated aperture in the roof; and thus imperfectly ventilated, it wiU not be wondered at that the vault should be damp. Moisture constantly trickled down the walls, and collected in pools on the broken pavement; but unwholesome as it was, and altogether unfit for occupation, it was deemed good enough for those generally thrust into it, and far too good for its present tenant. As the prisoner exhibited no violence, the thongs with which his hands were bound were removed on 272 THE STAR-CHAMBER. his entrance to the vault, and he was allowed the free use of his limbs. The breastplate in which he was clad was taken from him, and his vesture was again closely searched; but no further discovery was made either of concealed weapon, or of any paper or letter tending to show that he had accomplices in his dread design. Tlie only thing found upon him, indeed, was a small Bible, and this, after it had been examined, he was permitted to retain. To the interrogatories put to him by Master Dendy, the serjeant-at-arms, he returned the briefest answers; and when he had said as much as he thought fit, he obstinately refused to make further reply. Incensed at his perversity, and determined to extort a full confession, in order that it might be laid before the king, the serjeant-at-arms ordered the manacles to be applied. But though the torture was exquisite, he bore it with firmness, and without uttering a groan; maintaining" the same determined silence as before. Had he dared. Master Dendy would have had recourse to severer measures; but having no warrant for any such proceeding, he was obliged to content himself A^ath threats. To these Hugh Calveley replied by a grim smile of contempt; but as the serjeant-at-arms was departing to make his report to Sir Thomas Lake, he said, "I have something to disclose; but it is for the king's ear alone." "Better reveal it to me," rejoined Dendy, halting. " I have it in my power to render your situation far more tolerable, or to inflict greater torment upon you. Make your choice." THE STAR-CHAMBER. 273 " Deal with me as you please," returned Hugh Cal- veley, sternly. " What I have to say is to the King, and to the King only; and though you break every bone in my body with your engines, and tear off my flesh with red-hot pincers, you shall not force the secret from me." Master Dendy looked at him, and felt disposed to place him in the dreadful instrument of torture called Skeffington's irons, which was hanging against the wall; but the consideration that had hitherto restrained him — namely, that he was without authority for the step, and might be called to account for it — weighed with him still; wherefore he contented himself Avith ordering the prisoner to be chained to the pillar; and having seen the injunction obeyed, he left him. In this miserable plight Hugh Calveley remained for some hours, without light and without food. How the time was passed none knew; but the two yeomen of the guard who entered the vault fomid him on his knees absorbed in prayer. They brought a lamp with them, and refreshments of a better kind than those usually afforded to a prisoner, and set them before him. But he refused to partake of them. The only favour he besought was permission to read his Bible; and the lamp placed within reach, he was soon deeply engrossed in the perusal of those pages from which, when earnestly sought, consolation has ever been de- rived under the most trying circumstances. Sir Jocelyn had forborne to visit the prisoner from a fear that his presence might be painful; but the VOL. I. T 274 THE STAR-CHAMBER. office imposed upon him by the king left him no alter- native; and about midnight he descended to the vault, to ascertain from personal inspection that Hugh Cal- veley was in safe custody. The door w^us unlocked by the halberdier stationed at it^ and the young man found himself alone with the prisoner. He was inex- pressibly shocked by the spectacle he beheld, as he had no idea how severely the unfortunate Piu'itan had been treated, nor of the sort of prison in which he was confined. Hugh Calveley, who was stiU intently reading the Biblcj which he had placed upon his knee while he held the lamp near it to throw the light upon its leavesj did not appear to be disturbed by the opening of the door, nor did he raise his eyes. But, at last, a deep groan issuing from the breast of the young man aroused him, and he held up the lamp to ascertain who was near. On discovering that it was Sir Jocelyn, he knitted his brow, and, after sternly regarding him for a moment, returned to his Bible without uttering a word; but finding the other maintained his post, he demanded, almost fiercely, why he was distm-bed? '' Can I do aught for your relief?" rejoined the young man. " At least, I can have those chains taken off." " Thou speakest as one in authority," cried Hugh Calveley, regarding him fixedly. " Art thou appointed to be my jailer ?" Sir Jocelyn made no answer, but averted his head. " This only was wanting to fill up the measure of my scorn fcr thee," pursued the Puritan. "Thou art THE STAR-CHAMBER. 275 worthy of thine office. But show me no favour, for I will receive none at thy hands. I would rather wear these fetters to my death, however much they may gaU my limbs, than have them struck off by thee. I would rather rot in this dungeon — ay, though it were worse than it is — than owe my liberation to thee. The sole favour thou canst show me is to rid me of thy presence, which is hateful to me, and chases holy thoughts from my breast, putting evil in theii' place." " Why should this be so, O friend of my father ?" exclaimed Sir Jocelyn. " And why should my presence be hateful to you ? There is no man living whom I would less "willingly offend than yourself; and in aU I have done, where you have been concerned, I have had no free agency. Judge me not then too harslily. I commiserate your situation from the depths of my heart, and would relieve it were it possible." " Then wherefore persist in troubling me?" rejoined Hugh Calveley. " Have I not good cause for my dis- like of you ? You have disappointed the expectations I had formed of you. You failed me when I j)ut your professions to the test. You thwarted my design at the moment when its success was certain, and w^hen the tyrant was completely in my power. But for you I should not be here, loaded with these fetters; or if I were, I should be consoled by the thought that I had liberated my country from oppression, instead of being crushed by the sense of failure. AMiat seek you from me, miserable time-server? Have you not had your reward for the service you have rendered the king? T 3 27 G THE STAR-CHAMBER. Is he not grateful enough? I have served as your stepping-stone to promotion. What more can I do ?" "You can cease to do me injustice/^ returned Sir Jocelyn. " Honours, procured as mine have been, are vahieless, and I would rather be without them. I sought them not. They have been forced upon me. Look at the matter fairly, and you will see that all these consequences, whether for good or ill, have sprung from your own desperate act." ^'It may be so," rejoined the Pm'itan. "I will not dispute it. But though ill has accrued to me, and good to you, I would not change positions with you. You will wear the tyrant's fetters for ever. I shall soon be free from mine." "Have you nothing to say concerning yom- daugh- ter?" demanded the yoimg man. " Nothing," replied the Puritan, with an expression of deep pain, which, however, he checked by a mighty effort. " I have done with the world, and desire not to be brought back to it." " And you refuse to be freed from your chains ?" " ]My sole desire, as I have said, is to be freed from you." " That wish, at least, shall Ijc granted," replied Sir Jocelyn, as, with a sad heart, he departed. THE STAR-CHAMBER. 277 CHAPTER XXVIII. THE SECRET. Thrice was the guard relieved during that long night, and as often was the prisoner visited. On the first occasion, he was found to be still engaged with his Bible, and he so continued during the whole time the man remained in the vault. The next who came discovered him on his knees, praying loudly and fervently, and, unwilling to disturb him, left him at his devotions. But the third who entered was struck with terror at the prisoner's appearance. He had risen from the ground, and was standing as erect as the fetters would permit, with his hands outstretched, and his eyes fixed on vacancy. He was muttering something, but his words were unintelligible. He looked like one who beheld a vision; and this impression was produced upon the man, who half expected some awful shape to reveal itself to him. But whatever it might be, spirit of good or iU, it was visible to the Puritan alone. After gazing at him for some minutes, in mixed wonderment and fright, the halberdier ventured to draw near him. As he touched him, the Puritan 278 THE STAR-CHAMBER. uttered a fearful cry^ and attempted to spring forward, as if to grasp some vanishing object, bv;t being checked in the effort by the chain, he fell heavily to the groimd, and seemed to sustain severe injury; for when the man raised him, and set him against the pillar, though he made no complaint, it was evident he suffered excru- ciating pain. The halberdier poured out a cup of wine, and offered it to him ; but, though well-nigh fainting, he peremptorily refused it. From this moment a marked change was perceptible in his looks. The hue of his skin became cadaverous; his eyes grew dim and glassy; and his respiration was difficult. Everything betokened that his sufferings would be speedily over, and that, however he might deserve it, Hugh Calveley would be spared the disgrace of death by the hands of the executioner. The halberdier was not unaware of his condition, and his first imptdse was to summon assistance ; but he was deterred from doing so by the earnest entreaty of the Puritan to be left alone ; and thinking this the most merciful course he could pursue under the circumstances, he yielded to the request, scarcely expecting to behold him alive again. It was by this same man that the door of the vault was opened to Sir Jocelyn and Aveline. The shock experienced by the maiden at the sight of her father had well-nigh overcome her. She thought him dead, and such was Sir Jocelyn's first impression. The unfortunate Puritan was still propped against the pillar, as the halberdier had left him, but his head had fallen to one side, and his arms hung THE STAR-CHAMBER. 279 listlessly down. With a piercing shriek his daughter flew towards him, and kneeling beside hini_, raised his head gently, and gazing eagerly into his face, per- ceived that he still lived, though the spirit seemed ready to wing its flight from its fleshly tabernacle. The situation was one to call forth every latent energy in Aveline's character. Controlling her emotion, she uttered no further cry, but set herself with calmness to apply such restoratives as were at hand to her father. After bathing his temples and chafing his hands, she had the satisfaction, ere long, of seeing him open his eyes. At first, he seemed to have a difficulty in fixing his gaze upon her, but her voice reached his ears, and the feeble pressure of his hand told that he knew her. The power of speech returned to him at length, and he faintly murmured, " My child, I am glad to see you once more. I thought all was over; but it has pleased Heaven to spare me for a few moments to give you my blessing. Eow down your head, O my daughter, and take it ; and though given by a sinner like my- self, it shall profit you ! May the merciful God, who pardoneth all that repent, even at the last hour, and watcheth over the orphan, bless you, and protect you !" " Amen I" exclaimed Jocelyn, fervently. " Who was it spoke ?" demanded the Puritan. And as no answer was returned, he repeated the inquiry. " It was I — Jocelyn Mounchensey, the son of your old friend,'' replied the young man. " Come nigh to me, Jocelyn," said the dying man, " I have done you wrong, and entreat your pardon.'* 280 THE STAR-CHAMBER, " O, talk not thus !" cried Jocelyn, springing towards him. " I have nothing to forgive, but much to be forgiven." " You have a noble heart, Jocelyn/' rejoined Hugh Calveley; "and in that respect resemble your father. In his name, I conjure you to listen to me. You will not refuse my djdng request. I have a sacred trust to commit to you." " Name it !" cried the young man; " and rest as- sured it shall be fulfilled." " Give me some ^\dne," gasped the Puritan, faintly. " My strength is failing fast, and it may revive me." And with great effort he swallowed a few drops from the cup filled for him by Joeelyn. Still, his appearance was so alarming, that the young man covdd not help urging him not to delay. " I tuiderstand," replied Hugh Calveley, slightly pressing his hand. " You think I have no time to lose ; and you are right. My child, then, is the trust I would confide to you. Son, behold thy sister ! Daughter, behold thy brother !" " I will be more than a brother to her," cried Sir Jocel}Ti, earnestly. " More thou canst not be," rejoined Hugh Calveley; " unless " " Unless what ?" demanded Sir Joeelyn. " I cannot explain," cried the Pui-itan, with an ex- pression of agony; " there is not time. Suffice it, she is abeady promised in marriage." " Father !" exclaimed Aveline, in surprise, and with something of reproach. " I never heard of such an THE STAR-CHAMBER. 281 engagement before. It has been made mthout my consent." " I charge you to fulfil it, nevertheless, my child, if it be required," said Hugh Calveley, solemnly. " Promise me this, or I shall not die content. Speak ! Let me hear you." And she reluctantly gave the required promise. Sir Jocelyn uttered an exclamation of anguish. " What afflicts you, my son?" demanded the Puritan. " To whom have you promised your daughter in marriage?" inquired the young man. "You have constituted me her brother, and I am therefore en- titled to inquire." " You will learn when the demand is made," said the Puritan. " You will then know why I have given the promise, and the nature of the obligation imposed upon my daiighter to fulfil it." " But is this obligation ever to remain binding ?" demanded Sir Jocelyn. " If the claim be not made within a year after my death, she is discharged from it," replied Hugh Calveley. " O, thanks, father, thanks !" exclaimed Aveline. At this moment the door of the vault was thrown open, and two persons entered, the foremost of whom Sir Jocelyn instantly recognised as the King. The other was his Majesty^s physician, Doctor Mayerne Turquet. A glance sufiiced to explain to the latter the state of the Puritan. " Ah ! parhleu ! the man is dying, your Majesty," he exclaimed. 282 THE STAR-CHAMBER. " Deeing ! is he ?" cried James. " The mair reason he suld tell his secret to us without procrastina- tion. Harkye, prophet of ill V he continued, as he strode forward. " The judgment of Heaven ye predicated for us, seems to have fallen on your ainsell, and to have laid you low, even afore our arm could touch you. Ye have gude reason to be thankful you have escaped the woodie ; sae e'en make a clean breast of it, confess your enormities, and reveal to us the secret matter whilk we are taiJd ye hae to com- municate !" " Let all else withdraw a few paces," said H^^gh Calveley, " and do thou, O King, approach me. What I have to say is for thine ear alone." " There will be no danger in granting his request 7" inquired James of his physician. " None whatever," replied Doctor Mayeme Turquet. " The only danger is in delay. Your Majesty should lose no time. The man is passing rapidly away. A few moments more, and he will have ceased to exist." On a sign from the King, Sir Jocelyn then stepped aside, but Aveline refused to quit her father, even for a moment. As James drew near, Hugh Calveley raised himself a little in order to address him. " I say unto thee, O King," he cried, " as Elijah said unto Ahab, ' Because thou hast sold thyself to work evil in the sight of the Lord — ^behold ! I will bring evil upon thee, and wall take away thy posterity. And I will make thine house like the house of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, and like THE STAR-CHAMBER. 283 the house of Baasha the son of Ahijah^ for the provoca- tion wherewith thou hast provoked me to anger^ and made Israel to sin/ " " Now the muckle Deil seize thee, villain !" exclaimed James_, furiously. " Is it to listen to thy texts that thou hast brought me hither?" And as Hugh Calveley, exliavisted by the effort he had made, fell back with a groan, he bent his head towards him, crying, " The secret, man, the secret ! or the tormentor shall wring it from thee r" The Pmitan essayed to speak, but his voice was so low that it did not reach the ears of the King. " "WTiat sayest thou ?" he demanded. " Speak louder. Saul of our body !" he exclaimed, after a moment's pause, dming which the sudden alteration that took place in the prisoner's features made him suspect that all was over. " Our belief is he wiU never speak again. He hath escaped us, and ta'en his secret wi' him." A loud shriek burst from Aveline, as she fell upon her father's lifeless body. " Let us forth," cried the King, stopping his ears. ''We carena to be present at scenes like this. We hae had a gude riddance o' this traitor, though we wad hae gladly heard what he had to tell. Sir Jocelyn Mounchensey, ye will see that this young woman be cared for ; and when ye have caused her to be removed elsewhere, follow us to the tennis-court, to which we shall incontinently adjourn." So saying, he quitted the vault with his physician. 284 THE STAR-CHAMBER. CHAPTER XXIX. LUKE HATTON. Feigning sudden indisposition (and the excuse was not altogether ■\\athout foundation), the Countess of Exeter quitted Theobalds Palace on the day after her unlucky visit to Lord Roos's chamber, and proceeded to her husband's residence at Wimbledon, where she was speedily joined by her lover, who brought her word of the advantage he had gained over their foe. " I have fairly checkmated my gracious mother-in- law," he cried, with a laugh; "and it would have diverted you as much as it did me and De Gondomar, who was present on the occasion, if you could have witnessed her rage and mortification when she dis- covered the change that had been eflFected ; and that in place of your magnificent black ringlet (which I now wear next my heart, and shall ever keep as a love- token) , she had only a sorry specimen of your hand- maiden's lint-white locks. As I live, it was truly laughable. Tlie good lady would have annihilated me if she could ; and threatened me with terrible reprisals. At first, she tried to attribute the transformation. THE STAR-CHAMBER. 285 which she could not otherwise account for, to witch- craft ; and though I derided the charge, I must needs say, the trick Vv^as so cleverly performed, that it did look like magic. The packet containing the tress of hair had never been out of her own keeping. This she affirmed ; and it was true. But there was a friendly hand to open it nevertheless ; to purloin its priceless treasure; and to suljstitute something of a similar kind, though of comparatively little value, in its place. That hand, — one not likely to be suspected, — was no other than that of my lady's confidential attendant, Sarah Swarton. The juggle was played by her at the instance of Diego. Anticipating some such occurrence as the present, and desirous of having a spy upon the movements of our enemies, I some time since dii-ected Diego to pay secret court to Sarah, and my forethought has now been rewarded. The main difficulty lay with poor GilUan. She was greatly embarrassed by her situation; and her perplexity v/as increased by the presence of a jealous lover in the shape of an apprentice, who refused to leave her till his doubts should be satisfied. This was awkward, as the story could not be very well reconciled so as to suit all parties. Accordingly, when the discovery was made, which seemed to proclaim the poor girl's infidelity, the youth's rage and consternation were nearly equal to Lady Lake's ; a circumstance that added considerable zest to the comedy. But I see it does not divert you so much as I expected, and therefore, to relieve your mind, I may tell you that the jealous varlet soon 286 THE STAR-CHAMBER. repented of his rash determination, and pursuing his mistress, whom De Gondomar had considerately taken mider his protection, prevailed upon her to give the amorous ambassador the slip, and return with him to her father's abode at Tottenham." " I am right glad to hear it," said the Countess. " Though I have seen so little of Gillian, I cannot help taking an interest in her ; she is so pretty, and so innocent in appearance, and her manners are so artless and engaging. I owe her some reparation for the mischief I have done her, and wall not neglect to make it. I am sorry I ever was induced by you to take her into my servdce; and I am thankful to hear she has escaped De Gondomar's snares." " You are wonderfully interested about her, methinks, Frances; and I hope she Avill be grateful for your consideration," rejoined Lord Roos, with a laugh. " But I should not be surprised if De Gondomar still gained his point. It is not his way to give up a pur- suit he has once midertaken. However, to leave the pretty damsel to her fate, which will depend entirely on her own conduct, let us return to ourselves. We have good reason to be satisfied with the issue of this adventure of the lock of hair. Nevertheless, that recurrence to the charge of witchcraft on the part of my vindictive mother-in-law shows the extent of her malice, and I cannot doubt that in threatening me with reprisals she will be as good as her word. It behoves us, therefore, to be beforehand with her. What she may intend I cannot say, but I am satisfied THE STAR-CHAMBER. 287 she has a formidable scheme on foot, and that nothing- but her husband's interposition prevented its disclo- sure when she was so violently incensed against me." "You fill me with terror, William," exclaimed the Countess. ^^ Will this Avoman's hostihty towards me never cease ?" " Never," replied Lord Roos, with a sudden change of manner, and laying aside the levity he had hitherto exhibited. "There is but one way of ending the struggle. Luke Hatton can help us to it. Persuaded we should require him, I'have brought him with me- He waits in the hall below with Diego. Shall I summon him to our conference ?" " On no account," exclaimed Lady Exeter, hastily ; " I will not see him. You have done A\Tona" to brino- that poisoner here, my lord. You will destroy me." " Listen to me, Frances," replied Lord Roos. " The next step taken by Lady Lake will be fatal to us. There must be no delay, no irresolution on our part, or all is lost. I cannot depend upon myself, or I would not call in another's aid. You will com- prehend how wanting in firmness I am, when I tell you what happened the other night. Incredible as it may sound, my wife, in order to prove her devotion to me and to free me from further annoyance on her part, offered to take poison; and but for my inter- ference (fool that I was to stay her !) would have drained the phial containing the deadly potion. The weakness was momentary, and I reproached myself for it when too late. But it convinced me that 288 THE STAR-CHAMBER. a firmer hand than mine must be employed in the task." "And can you, after wdiat you have related, Wil- liam, — can you seriously meditate the destruction of a fond woman, who has generosity enough to lay down her life for you? This is more incredible than the rest — more monstrously wdcked." " Wicked it may be ; but the excuse — if I have any — lies in my overwhelming passion for you, Frances," replied Lord Roos in a frenzied tone. " And it seems decided by the relentless destiny that governs me, that the continued indulgence of the fatal passion shall only be purchased at the price of my soul. That penalty I am prepared to pay rather than lose you. I will become obdurate, >vill turn my heart to stone, so that it shall no more melt at the tears of this fond, foolish woman; and I mil slay her without remorse. Any other obstacle between us shall be removed ! — be it her mother, her father — your husband ! I will immolate a hundred victims at the altar of our love. I will shrink from nothing to make you mine for ever. For I would rather share eternal bale with you, Frances, than immortal bliss with another." " You almost make me fancy some evil being has obtained possession of you, William," said the Countess, gazing at him with affright. " It may be that the Fiend himself hath accepted my wild offer," he rejoined gloomily ; " but if my wish be granted it matters not." "1 will not listen to such fearful impiety," said THE STAR-CHAMBER. 289 the Countess, shuddering. " Let us dismiss this su.bject for the present, and recur to it when you are cahner.*'' " It cannot be j)ostponed, Frances. Time presses, and even now Lady Lake may have got the start of us. I shall be calm enough when this is over. Will you consent to see Luke Hatton ?" " Why need I see him ?" inquired the Countess, with increasmg uneasiness. " Why will you force his hateful presence upon me ? If the deed must be done, why can you not alone undertake it ?" " I will tell why I cannot/' he replied, in a sombre tone, and regarding her fixedly. " I must have a partner in the crime. It will bind us to each other in links not to be severed. I shall have no fear of losing you then. Countess. I go to bring Luke Hatton to you." And without waiting for her reply, he strode out of the room. Lady Exeter would have arrested him, • but she had not the nerve to do so, and with an excla- mation of anguish she fell back in her chair. " What dominion sin has usurped over me !" she mentally ejaculated. " I have lost the power of resist- ing its further encroachment. I see the enormity of the offence I am about to commit, and though my soul revolts at it, I cannot hold back. I am as one on the brink of a precipice, who beholds the dreadful gulf before him into which another step must plunge him, yet is too giddy to retreat, and must needs fall over. Pit}^ me, kind Heaven ! I am utterly helpless without thy aid.'' VOL. I. U 290 THE STAR-CHAMBER. While the unhappy lady thus unavailingly deplored the sad position in which her own misconduct had placed her^ and from which she felt wholly incapable of extricating herself; while in this wretched frame of miird, she awaited her lover's return, — with, as we have shown, some remains of good struggling \\'ith the evil in her bosom, — we v.'ill cast a hasty glance round the chamber in which she sat. And we are prompted to do this, not because it merits particular description, but because it was the room referred to by Lady Lake as the scene of the confession she had forged. The apartment, then, was spacious and handsomely furnished in the hea\y taste of the period, with but little to distinguish it from other rooms visited by us in the com-se of this story. Like most of them, it had. a "looniy air, caused l)v the dark hue of its oaken panels and the heavy folds of its antiquated and faded tapestry. The latter was chiefly hung against the lower end of the chamber, and served as a screen to one of the doors. At the opposite end, there Vi^as a wide and deep bay window, glowing with stained glass, amid the emblazonry of which might be discerned the proud escutcheon of the house of Exeter, Avith the two lions rampant forming its supporters. On the right of the enoraaous carved mantel-piece, which, with its pillars, statues, 'scutcheons, and mas- sive cornice, momited to the very ceiling, was hung a poi-trait of the Earl of Exeter — a grave, dignified personage, clad in the attire of Elizabeth's time ; and on the left, v.'as a likeness of the Countess herself. THE STAR-CHAMBER. 291 painted in all the pride of her unequalled beauty, and marvellous in resemblance then ; but how different in expression from her features now ! In the recess of the window stood an oak table, covered with a piece of rich carpet fringed with gold, on which a massive silver inkstand and materials for writing were placed ; and this table was seized upon by Lady Lake as a feature in her plot. Here she would have it the confession was signed by the Countess. Another point in reference to this scheme must not be passed unnoticed. We have mentioned the heavy hangings at the lower end of the room. ■ According to the plotter, it was behind these that Sarah Swarton — the intended witness of the imaginary scene — was concealed. The principal subjects represented on the arras were the Judgment of Solomon, and the Tempta- tion of om* first Parents in the Garden by the Serj)ent. The hangings had evidently not been removed for years, and did not reach within two feet of the ground — a cu'cumstance that had escaped the attention of Lady Lake — proving the truth of her husband's observation, that in the best contrived plot some im- perfection will exist certain to operate in its detection. To return to the mihappy Countess. So lost was she in reflection, that she did not remark Lord Roos's return till made aware of it by a slight touch on the shoulder. When she raised her eyes, they fell upon an object that inspired her with the dread and aversion that a noxious reptile might have produced. She had 292 THE STAR-CHAMBER. never seen Luke Hatton before ; and if she had figured him to her mind at all^ it was not as anything agreeable; but she M-as not prepared for so hideous and revolting a personage as he appeared to be. His face was like an ugly mask, on which a sardonic grin was stamjied. His features were large and gaunt, and he had the long, hooked nose, and the sharp-pointed bestial ears of a satyr, with leering eyes — betokening at once sensuality and cunning. He had the chin and beard of a goat, and crisply-curled hair of a pale yellow colour. With all this, there was something sordid in his looks as well as his attire, which showed that to his other vices he added that of avarice. A mock humility, belied by the changeless sneer upon his countenance, distinguished his deportment. It could be seen at once that, however cringing he might be, he despised the person he addressed. Moreover, in spite of all his efforts to control it, there was something sarcastic in his speech. His doublet and hose, both of which had endured some service, and were well-nigh threadbare, were tawny-coloured ; and he wore a short yellow cloak, a great ruff of the same colour, and carried a brown steeple-crowned hat in his hand. " I await your ladyship's commands,^' said Luke Hatton, bowing obsequiously. " I have none to give you," Lady Exeter rejoined with irrepressible disgust. " I have not sent for you. Go hence." Not at all abashed by this reception, Luke Hatton maintained his place, and threw an inquiring glance at Lord Roos. THE STAR-CHAMBER. 293 " My dear Covmtess/' said the young nobleman, seating himself negligently upon a tabouret beside her, " I must pray you not to dismiss this worthy man so hastily. You vnR find him eminently serviceable; and as to his trustworthiness, I have the best reasons for feeling satisfied of it, because I hold in my hand a noose, Avhich, whenever I please, I can tighten romid his neck. Of this he is quite aware, and therefore he will serve us faithfully, as well from fear as from grati- tude." " Her ladyship may place entire confidence in me," remarked Luke Hatton, with a grin. '^'This is not the first affair of the kind in which I have been engaged. I have prepared potions and powders which Mistress Turner (with Avhose reputation yoiu- ladyship must needs be acquainted) used to vend to her cus- tomers. My draughts have removed many a trouble- some husband, and silenced many a jealous wife. I have helped many an heir to the speedy enjoyment of an inheritance, which, but for my assistance, would not have come to him for years. The lover with a rival in his way, who has come to me, has soon been freed from all anxiety on that score. The corn-tier, eager for a post which a superior held, has gained it by my aid. Yet none of those whom I have thus benefited have been suspected. Your ladyship, I repeat, need have no fears of me — and no scruples with me. State your wishes, and they shall be implicitly obeyed." " I have no \vish, except to be relieved from a 29-1 THE STAR-CHAMBER. presence which is disagreeable to me," replied the Coimtess. Again Luke Hatton consulted Lord Roos with a regard. " I find I must act for her ladyship/' said the young nobleman. '' You will take_, therefore, the in- structions I shall give you as proceeding from her. What two names do you find upon that paper ?" " Those of yoiu' lordship's wdfe and mother-in-law," retiu'ned Luke Hatton. '^ You comprehend what her ladyship w^ould have done with those persons ?" said Lord Roos, looking at him steadfastlv. ft/ '^ Perfectly," replied Luke Hatton. " O, do not give this fatal ordei', my lord !" cried Lady Exeter, trembling. " How many days do you require to effect their removal ?" demanded Lord Roos, without appearing to notice her remark. " I do not require many hours," replied Luke Hatton ; '^ but it will be well not to be too precipi- tate. Neither must they die at the same time. All precaution shall be taken. The names are placed in a particular order. Is it so the Countess would have them taken ? In that case I must commence with' Lady Roos." " Wretch ! dost thou dare to make such an appeal to me?" cried Lady Exeter, rising. '^Begone, in- stantly, I say. Thou hast no order whatever from me; or if thou fanciest so, I revoke it." THE STAR-CHAMBER. 295 '^The order cannot be revoked/^ cried Lord Roos, grasping her arm. " This is not a time for hesitation or repentance. Having commenced the work you must go through with it — whether you will or not." " Whether I will or not !" exclaimed Lady Exeter, regarding him with angry siu'prise. '^ Have I heard you aright, my lord? Am I to be forced into association in this foul deed ? Have I sunk so low in your esteem that you venture to treat me thus ?'^ " Pardon me, Frances — pardon me !" he cried, im- ploringly. " I have said more than I intended. If I appear to exercise undue influence over you now, you vvdll forgive me hereafter, because the situation is one that requires decision, and that quality I possess in a higher degree than j^om'self. Luke Hatton must obey the orders given him. And you must sanction them." " Never !" she exclaimed, emphatically. " Then we part for ever," cried Lord Roos. " No matter what the pang may be — nor what befals me — I Avill go. Farewell for ever. Countess !" " Stay!" she cried. " We must not part thus." '^ Then you consent ?" he exclaimed. '^ Luke Hatton receives his orders from you ?" " Ask me not that question !" she cried, \vith a shudder. " If her ladyship will but sign this," said Luke Hatton, holding towards her the paper on which the names were written, " it will suffice for me." *' You hear what he says, Frances. You will do it?" cried Lord Roos. " 'Tis but a few strokes of a pen." UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. Form L9-50rn-4,'61(B8094s4)444 Savill & Edwards, Printers, 4, Chandos-street, Covent-garden. liOUILEDGE'S SERIES OF THE BRITISH POETS, NOW EDITED BY THE REV. E. 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Illustrated by John Gilbert. LONGFELLOW'S PROSE WORKS. Illustrated by John Gilbert. The Works of the Poets whom time has rendered classical will be printed without abridgment, and from the purest text. We should mutilate a cathedral as soon as the " Night Thoughts," &c. &c. Of the gold of Gray, not a grain must be dropped ; and who would lose one note fi'om the harp of Collins? It is hoped that the illustration of each author will present some features of novelty and instruction. A Biogi'a- phical Preface will relate the circumstance of a life, and give a general view of the character and the genius. The critical notices %viU be scat- tered thi'ough the volume; each poem of particular excellence being regarded as a master-piece in a picture-gaUei-y, and having its description appended to it, Gray's " Ode on Eton " gains a deeper pathos when read by the light of the affecting incident that occasioned it. Some exquisite Works of Imagination await this moment, and promise to reward it. 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