T5H! 
 
 LI B R_AFIY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UN IVER.5ITY 
 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 R56\w 
 v.l 
 
 A
 
 6^^/ 
 
 
 W O R K S 
 
 PUBLISHED, OR IN THE PRESS, 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM AND MARY HOWITT. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMANS, 
 
 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON. 
 
 THE RURAL LIFE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 NEW EDITION, 
 
 Medium 8vo., with Engravings on Wood by Bewick and Williams, uniform 
 
 with " Visits to Remarkable Places," price 21s. cloth. 
 
 Part 1. Life of the Aristocracy. 
 
 — 2. Life of the Agricultural 
 
 Population. 
 
 — 3. Picturesque and Moral Fea- 
 
 tures of the Country. 
 
 — 4. Strong Attachment 'of the 
 
 English to Country Life. 
 
 — 5. The Forests of England. 
 
 Part 6. Habits, Amusements, and 
 Condition of the People; 
 in which are introduced 
 Two New Chapters, de- 
 scriptive of the Rural 
 Watering-Places, and Edu- 
 cation of the Rural Popu- 
 lation. 
 
 "Only inferior to Nature herself, 
 English farmers, farm servants, life in 
 the Dales of Lincolnshire and York- 
 shire and Lancashire, scenes of wild 
 and lonely cottage life in 'the High- 
 lands, and the country pleasures and 
 pursuits of our mechanics, are all 
 dra\\'n and descanted on with singular 
 happiness." AthencBum, J.tu. 27. 
 
 " In a noble and enthusiastic and 
 liberal spirit has this work been con- 
 ceived. In its execution, the work 
 is in its best sense national: every 
 page, too, oilers traces of character ; 
 and they are all of them welcome for 
 their individuality and genuineness. 
 He is always fearless and earnest; 
 often excellently graphic ; frequently 
 nervous." 
 
 London and Westminster Review. 
 
 " There is or was but one man in 
 the kingdom capable of having ex- 
 celled this work, and that is Professor 
 Wilson.' ' — Metropolitan Conservative 
 Journal, Jan. 6, 1838. 
 
 " A work of great merit, extensive 
 research, much minute inquiry, and 
 containing a faithful, accurate, and 
 we may add elaborate history of rural 
 hfe, rural pastunes, and rural man- 
 ners." Spectator, Jan. 7, 1838. 
 
 " Thrice beautiful— beautiful in its 
 subjects, beautiful in its literary 
 execution, and beautiful in the get- 
 ting up." 
 
 St. James's Chronicle, Jan. 2. 
 
 " A valuable work, and cannot fail 
 of becoming popular." 
 
 Literary Gazette, Jan. 20. 
 
 Manning .ind Mason, Ivy-lane, St. Paul'
 
 WILLIAM HOWITT S WORKS. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Chap. 1. Visit to Penshurst in Kent, 
 the Ancient Seat of the 
 Sidneys. 
 
 — 2. Visit to" the Field of Cullo- 
 
 den. 
 
 — 3. Visit to Stratford on-Avon, 
 
 and the Haunts of Shak 
 speare : Charlecot Hall, 
 Clopton Hall, etc. 
 
 — 4. Visits to Combe Abbey, 
 
 ^Va^^vickshi^e, as con- 
 nected with Elizabeth of 
 Bohemia and the Gun- 
 powder Plot. 
 
 — 5. Visit to Lindisfarne,Flodden 
 
 Field, and the Scenery of 
 Marmion. 
 
 — 6. Visit to Bolton Priory, and 
 
 Scenes of the White Doe 
 of Rylston. 
 
 — 13. 
 
 15. 
 
 "One of the most charming yolumes 
 we haye chanced upon during many 
 years — a book that is likely to be 
 read a century hence ^yith as' keen a 
 delight as it is sure to be read now 
 while the interest of its publication 
 is fresh. It was a felicitous thought 
 in William Howitt to undertake so 
 poetical a pilgrimage, for which he is 
 so admirably, and we had almost said 
 peculiarly, qualified by the character 
 of his mi'nd, the purity of his taste, 
 
 and his deep love of old traditions 
 and their picturesque and historical 
 associations. We can confidently 
 recommend the yolume as one of the 
 most delightful works of its class in 
 the language. It is richly embel 
 lished with woodcuts by Mr.Williams, 
 whose talents are evidently of a high 
 order." Atlas, Jkn. 4, 1840. 
 
 " A book for all seasons." 
 
 Examiner, Dec. 29, 1840. 
 
 VISITS TO REMARKABLE PLACES. 
 
 SECOND SERIES. 
 
 CHIEFLY IX THE COUNTIES OF 
 
 DURHAM AND NORTHUMBERLAND. 
 
 WITH A STROLL ALONG THE BORDER. 
 
 With upwards of 40 highly-finished Woodcuts. Medium 8vo,, price 21s. cloth. 
 
 "William Howitt has produced a 
 volume that will be garnered up while 
 the language lasts in the localities to 
 which it is dedicated." 
 
 Atlas, Dec. 1, 1841. 
 
 VISITS TO REMARKABLE PLACES; 
 
 eitr l^all^, 33attlc dTtfltr^, 
 
 And Scenes illustrative of Striking Passages in English History 
 
 and Poetry. 
 
 NEW EDITION, 
 
 Medium 8vo. with 40 Illustrations by S.Williams, price 21s. cloth. 
 
 Chap. 7. Visit to Hampton Court. 
 
 — 8. Visit to Compton-Winyates, 
 
 Warwickshire, a solitary 
 old Seat of the Marquis of 
 Northampton. 
 
 — 9. A Dav -Dream at Tintagel. 
 
 — 10. Visit to Stafia and lona. 
 
 — 11. Visit to Edge-Hill. 
 
 — 12. Visit to the Great Jesuits' 
 
 College at Stonyhurst in 
 Lancashire. 
 
 Visit to the Ancient City of 
 Winchester. 
 
 Visit to Wotton Hall, Staf- 
 fordshire : Alfieri and 
 Rousseau in England ; 
 Traditions of Rousseau at 
 Wotton. 
 
 Sacrament Sunday at Kil- 
 morac in the Highlands. 
 
 "A rich treat for all genuine lovers 
 of hterature, historical antiquities, 
 and natural scenery. The most de- 
 lightful book whicli the present fer- 
 tile season has yet produced." 
 
 United Service Gazette, Jan.l, 1842.
 
 WILLIAM HOWITT S WORKS. 
 
 THE 
 
 RURAL AND SOCIAL LIFE OF GERMANY. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY G. F. SARGENT. 
 Medium 8vo., uniform with the " Rural Life of England," price 21s. cloth. 
 
 " We think this work the most 
 interesting of any thing William 
 Howitt has done. It possesses all his 
 well-known excellences, and derives 
 from its subject the attraction of both 
 novelty and knowledge." Spectator. 
 
 " This author, who has become 
 so celebrated and appreciated from 
 many of his works, has given us, in 
 the above volume, an extremely in- 
 teresting and characteristic descrip- 
 tion of Life in Germany, as well as 
 an accurate account of the Manners 
 and Customs of this country, which 
 he made himself during his residence 
 on the Continent, and his journey 
 through the difl'erent States of Ger- 
 many ; and he has used every endea- 
 vour'to picture to those of his country- 
 men who might visit Germany, that 
 which would excite their liveliest 
 interest. Whoever travels in a foreign 
 country without being aware of its 
 peculiarities will find much that is dis- 
 agreeable and uncomfortable, where 
 he does not know how to comply 
 with its usages. It Avas therefore a 
 praiseworthy undertaking on the jiart 
 of Mr. Howitt, to impart to his coun- 
 trymen all the information he could 
 obtain on the subject, and we are 
 convinced that his work will prove 
 a great acquisition to the English 
 traveller in this country. Without 
 this book, much that is* highly in- 
 teresting will escape his notice." 
 Jugel's Unirersal Magazine. 
 
 " Howitt, a man of mature years, 
 with all the youthful fire of poetry 
 
 and humanity— every inch an Eng- 
 lishman—gives us here a most original 
 w ork on Germany. He treats us and 
 our affairs with such an earnestness 
 of conviction, sucli a love of impar- 
 tiality, such an amiable candour, that 
 we cannot censui'e him ; but must 
 respect what he says. The descrip- 
 tions of scenery and of life are extra- 
 ordinarily true.* He presents through- 
 out contrasts between the two coun 
 tries, so that a German may learn 
 more of England from this work, than 
 out of most that are written for that 
 very purpose. That in every contrast 
 
 where PUBLICITY and PRACTICABILITY 
 
 are concerned, he assumes over us 
 for England a triumphant tone is 
 true, but his prophecy of the future 
 of Germany is noble — we sincerely 
 wish it may prove true. All that h"e 
 says of our literature and art, as in 
 Munich, is excellently said: many 
 chapters are real masterpieces of 
 description, and the whole work dis- 
 tinguishes itself as one of the most 
 correct and favourable representa- 
 tions of our life and circumstances 
 which ever jjroceeded from the pen 
 of an Englishman." 
 
 Allegmeine Zeitung, Feb. 1843. 
 "We return our hearty thanks to 
 Howitt, whose work we have so often 
 quoted, for the extraordinary accu- 
 racy, freedom, and nobility of spirit 
 with which he has set himself to 
 describe the life, character, and cir- 
 cumstances of our country." 
 
 Kobiiche Zeitung, INIarch, 1813. 
 
 THE STUDENT LIFE OF GERMANY. 
 
 (From the unpublished MSS. of Dr. Cornelius.) 
 
 WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS ON WOOD BY G. F. SARGENT, 
 AND SEVEN STEEL ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 Medium 8vo. with 24 Woodcuts and 7 Steel Plates, price 21s. cloth. 
 
 " Mr. Howitt is right in his remark, 
 that, taken as a wiiole, the volume 
 contains more that is entirely now 
 and curious than any one which has 
 issued from the press for years. 
 * * * * 
 
 It will be felt as a most charming 
 addition to the book, that the music 
 of all the songs (in themselves a de- 
 lightful series) is given with, in every 
 case, the original words." 
 
 Examiner, Oct. 16, 1841. 
 
 " This work is a public benefit, 
 and as such it cannot be too cordially 
 or earnestly recommended to our 
 
 readers It is elegantly ' got up,' 
 
 and does credit in its appearance to 
 the taste, liberality, and spirit of the 
 great publishers who have ushered it 
 into the world. As the only com- 
 plete treatise on the subject of which 
 it treats — the only complete treatise, 
 be it remembered, in any tongue— its 
 value is incalculable." Observer.
 
 WILLIAM HOWITT S WORKS. 
 
 THE BOY^S COUNTRY BOOK: 
 
 BEING 
 
 THE REAL LIFE OF A COUNTRY BOY, 
 
 WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 
 
 2d Edition, fcp. 8vo. with about 40 Woodcuts by S, Williams, price 8s. cloth. 
 
 " A volume that children will de- 
 light to read." 
 
 AthencEtim, Feb. 16, 1839. 
 
 " It is with no common satisfaction 
 that we introduce to our readers this 
 little book — a book which is the very 
 best adapted to fill, occupy, and 
 fascinate the leisure hours of the 
 young." Atlas, Jan. 20, 1839. 
 
 " We know of no book which we 
 should be more apt to select as a 
 present for a young person in whom 
 we might feelinterested." 
 
 Chambers'' Journal. 
 
 " We have read this book as if it 
 were some fairy chronicle of boyish 
 days of our own, and have closed it 
 with a sigh for the memory of those 
 brief but sweetest pleasures which 
 boyhood only knows." 
 
 'Examiner, April 6, 1839. 
 
 " The style is healthy and animated,' 
 and] sufficiently plain to meet the 
 capacity of boys at school; whilst 
 the numerous lively incidents, and the 
 various congenial'topics introduced, 
 will rivet his attention, and afford 
 him a wide field for gratification." 
 
 Conservative, Jan. 20, 1839. 
 
 " There is not in all England a 
 more competent editor for such an 
 autobiography as this, than the author 
 
 of the ' Book of the Seasons ;' nor 
 are we aware that any other 'real 
 life of a country boy' could ever 
 have been more naturally and heartily 
 described. We see him" in every pas- 
 sage, — we feel as if we actually heard 
 him teUing his story to a loved com- 
 panion of kindred* disposition 
 
 Every boy in the British Empire 
 should have a copy of this book ; and 
 no one who delights in its pages can b3 
 abadboy." Monthly Rev, March, 1839. 
 
 " A delightful book, full of enjoy- 
 ment and information, anecdote and 
 adventure, such as boys like, told in 
 a simple and hearty" way, as one 
 school-fellow would talk to another." 
 Spectator, Jan. 20, 1839. 
 
 " One of the most fascinating fic- 
 tions for young and old, but especially 
 of the former, that has ever graced 
 our literature." Alontlily Chronicle. 
 
 " One of the most bewitching little 
 volumes which we have read for along 
 time; full of the history of juvenile 
 adventures ; and of the information- 
 sterling, varied, and of lasting value 
 — which mature years have picked 
 up. Though intended for the young, 
 it will have, we venture to prophesy, 
 manv seniors among its admirers."" 
 Eclectic Review, April, 1839. 
 
 COLONIZATION AND CHRISTIANITY: 
 
 A Popular History of the Treatment of the Natives by the 
 
 Europeans in all their Colonies. 
 
 Post 8vo. price 10s. 6d. cloth. 
 
 ' ' The volume is full of a painful and 
 tragical interest: it enforces aterrible 
 lesson upon the consideration of the 
 
 people of this country We know 
 
 not, indeed, how any man could sit 
 down to such a narrative calmly, and 
 few men could have conducted it to 
 a close with so much abilitv and dis- 
 cretion." Atlas, July", 1838. 
 
 "We earnestly recommend this 
 volume to the notice of our readers 
 as a most masterly compendium of 
 correct intelligence on all subjects 
 connected with colonization, the slave 
 trade, and slavery." 
 
 Evangelical Magazine, Sept. 1838. 
 
 " There is enough to strike every 
 feeling heart with horror and detesta- 
 tion, and to call aloud for remedy 
 and redress." Literary Gazette. 
 
 "We have no hesitation in pro- 
 nouncing (this volume) in its object 
 and scope, the most important and 
 valuable of any that he (Mr. Howitt) 
 has yet produced." 
 
 Taifs Magazine, Aug. 1838. 
 
 " We cannot dismiss the volume 
 without expressing our deep sense of 
 its value, and of the service its pub- 
 lication will render to the cause of 
 humanity." 
 
 Eclectic Review, Dec. 1838.
 
 WORKS BY MARY HOWITT. 
 
 PUBLISHED BT 
 
 LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMANS, 
 
 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON. 
 I. 
 
 THE NEIGHBOURS: 
 
 A STORY OF EVERY-DAY LIFE. 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE SWEDISH OF FREDERIKA BREMER. 
 
 Third Edition, 2 vols., post 8vo., price I83. boards. 
 
 " The best novel published this sea- 
 sou ; and we are sure that it will not 
 only afford great delight to the reading 
 world, but have a beneficial influence 
 on our literature." Br'dayinia. 
 
 " The execution of this exceedingly 
 curious picture of manners is very feli- 
 citous : minute in its touches, pains- 
 taking with its details, and yet not so 
 literal as life-like in its effects ; re- 
 sembling, in this respect, the care- 
 fully-laboured pictures of the Flemish 
 school. In 'The Neighbours' the 
 reader will meet with something very 
 different from anything to be found 
 in English novels of the present day. 
 Although a translation, it has all the 
 ease and raeiness of an original." 
 
 Spectator. 
 
 "These lively •volumes graphically 
 display our social human nature 
 under" aspects new to the English 
 reader." 
 
 Atlas. 
 
 " The great charm of this agreeable 
 book is the fresh and life-like picture 
 it furnishes of the domestic economy 
 of Sweden. The scenes it unfolds, the 
 characters it paints, the manners and 
 habits it describes, are both original 
 and obviously true to nature ; Vv-hile 
 the sentiments expressed throughout 
 the narrative are at once amiable and 
 pure, adapted to chasten the heart by 
 rectifying the affections." 
 
 Eclectic Beview. 
 
 THE HOME: 
 
 OR, 
 
 FAMILY CARES AND FAMILY JOYS. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE SWEDISH OF FREDERIKA BREMER. 
 
 Second Edition, revised and corrected, 2 vols., post 8vo., price 1^. Is. boards. 
 
 "It would certainly be 'omitting 
 the part of Hamlet,' were we to close 
 this invitation to ' The Home ' with- 
 out speaking of the central figure in 
 all its joys and sorrows— the Mother. 
 Nothing more delicate, or womanly, 
 or beautiful is to be found in our 
 domestic fiction than her character: 
 and we like it none the less for a 
 certain touch of romance and senti- 
 ment not altogether English 
 
 It is impossible to read this book as 
 a piece of make-heliere. We have had 
 nothing so simply life-like since Gait's 
 
 ' Annals of the Parish ' — uo pictures 
 of female nature so finely touched, 
 since Miss Austen's. As an illustra- 
 tion of Northern life and manners, 
 too, the tale has great value." 
 
 A thenceum. 
 
 "This new story, taken as a whole, 
 fuUy sustains all that we said in praise 
 of the penetrative subtlety, nice dis- 
 crimination, and exquisitedelicacy of 
 touch, which are displayed in the first 
 delightful fiction of Miss Bremer." 
 TuWs Masazine.
 
 WORKS BY MARY HOWlTf. 
 
 'THE HOME."— Opmioras of the Press continued. 
 
 " Nothing like the works of this 
 charming Swedish writer has ap- 
 peared since Miss Austen. The prin- 
 ciples which they inculcate are too 
 sound, the facts which they detail are 
 of too truthful and convincing a cha- 
 racter, not to have been welcomed 
 with the warmest terms of congratu- 
 lation in this country. Miss Bremer's 
 high and distinctive" quality consists 
 in her minute dissection of character, 
 her eloquent detail of incident — the 
 warmth of tone with which she ex- 
 presses every amiable feeling ; the 
 unobtrusive, jet cogent manner in 
 which she inculcates every stirring 
 lesson of virtue — the earnestness with 
 which she endeavours to convince 
 every one of the necessity of abhor- 
 ringVice." Atlas. 
 
 " A book which will assuredly fulfil 
 the end for which it is written, and 
 afford delight to every one who can 
 appreciate faithful pictures of the 
 fairest side of human life, and find 
 pleasure in indulging loving thoughts 
 and pure affections. The Author has 
 a right to claim from the press of this 
 country the courtesy of an introduc- 
 tion; and the critic's privilege in this 
 
 case is truly one of the most grati- 
 fying kind. ' Miss Bremer's portraits 
 are drawn with exquisite truth, and 
 are among the most purely natural 
 descriptions ever \tenne(\.." Britannia. 
 "Ernst Frank, with his high prin 
 ciples, sound sense, and deep feeling, 
 couched beneath a cold exterior, with 
 Elise, his beautiful and loving wife, 
 partaking largely of the virtues of her 
 sex ; their eldest and only boy Hen- 
 rik, the mother's 'summer child;' and 
 their four daughters, each distin- 
 guished from the others, and all pre- 
 senting, whether apart or in combi- 
 nation, a mixture of qualities adapted 
 to awaken both the pride and the 
 apprehension of their parents, consti- 
 tute a group of which the like may 
 occasionally be seen, and which, once 
 beheld, can never be forgotten. Our 
 young friends — and, if we mistake 
 not, Tnany old ones too — will find 
 these volumes full of interest, and it 
 will not be the fault of their fair 
 author if the effect of their perusal be 
 not to strengthen domestic affections, 
 and to correct many evils by which 
 the happiness of honie is impaired." 
 Eclectic Review. 
 
 THE PRESIDENT'S DAUGHTERS: 
 
 INCLUDING NINA. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE SWEDISH OF FREDERIKA BREMER. 
 Three vols., post 8vo., price 31*. M. boards. 
 
 "Miss Bremer possesses beyond 
 any other living writer of her class the 
 power of realising to the imagination 
 every individual she introduces. 
 There is scarcely a single person in 
 her multitudinous groups that does 
 not stand out imlpably in his living 
 lineaments. The minute fidelity of 
 her details, the vivid distinctness 
 with which every mental struggle 
 and secret emotion is traced ; the 
 moral beauty and womanly purity 
 which steadily illuminate her narra- 
 tive; and the' calm Christian philo- 
 sophy out of which all its earnest 
 lessons of truth, and justice, and re- 
 signation, and serene wisdom, are 
 drawn, must receive implicit admi- 
 ration on all hands." Esaminer. 
 
 " In the exhibition of every-day life 
 in Sweden, so far as we are able to 
 juds:e of it. Miss Bremer is without a 
 rival,— full of matter, close in obser- 
 ^ation, characteristic in touch, and 
 
 felicitous in expression, by the exact 
 adaptation of style and diction to the 
 thing described." Spectator. 
 
 "'The President's Daughters' is a 
 worthy companion to ' The Neigh- 
 bours '— simple and truthful; and 
 though we may never have met else- 
 where any one of the characters, all 
 who have ever looked deeply into 
 their own hearts will claim kindred 
 and acquaintance with them. There 
 is not one that offends by exaggera- 
 tion -not one that is not recognised 
 at a glance by the humanities of our 
 common nature — they are creatures 
 of flesh and blood, and walk the stage 
 of life as it has been trod for ages, 
 and will be trod for ever. No impos 
 sible vice, no super-human virtue, 
 startles us in INIiss Bremer's page : we 
 recognise in her heroes and heroines 
 men and women with whom we our- 
 selves could have lived and been 
 happy." Atli(:na\i..i_
 
 WORKS BY MARY HOWITT. 
 
 TALES 
 
 FOR THE PEOPLE AND THEIR CHILDREN. 
 
 Price 2s. 6d. each, in cloth. 
 Published by THOMAS TEGG, Cheapside. 
 
 STRIVE AND THRIVE.* 
 
 HOPE ON! HOPE EVER If 
 
 SOWING AND REAPING. 
 
 WHO SHALL BE GREATEST? 
 
 W^HICH IS THE WISER? 
 
 LITTLE COIN, MUCH CARE. 
 
 WORK AND WAGES. 
 
 ALICE FRANKLIN. 
 
 NO SENSE LIKE COMMON SENSE. 
 
 * " We rejoice to see the works of 
 the Howitts, whatever they be, re- 
 published among us. Their names 
 have a pleasant sound ; their writings 
 are sure to be animated by a kindly, 
 humane spirit ; and no one can leave 
 them M-ithout feeling that he has been 
 in delightful company." 
 
 North American Review. 
 
 t " This is the second specimen of 
 a series of ' Tales for the People and 
 their Children,' which has lately been 
 commenced by one well fitted for the 
 task; and truly a more delightful 
 story, either for parent or child, tee 
 have seldom read. Mary Howitt pos- 
 sesses, in a singular degree, that 
 charming art, which so few writers 
 can ever attain, of conveying the most 
 sublime lessons of morality in a form 
 
 at once as simple a7id as attractive as 
 a fairy tale. And then the magic 
 skill with which, by her deep, quiet, 
 but earnest enthusiasm, she invests 
 the most ordinary objects and inci- 
 dents with poetic beauty ! Yet all is 
 done with a degree of method, which 
 renders her pictures alike harmoni- 
 ous and free from duU formality. It 
 is not merely that 
 
 'From common things which round us lie 
 Some random truths she can impart.' 
 
 The truths she teaches, though drawn 
 from common sources, are never 
 given at random. Impulsive though 
 her genius be, it never parts company 
 with her judraient ; and hence it may 
 be truly said, that she possesses her 
 genius, rather than she is possessed 
 by it." 
 
 WORKS FOR YOUTH. 
 
 Published by DARTON AND CLARK, Holborn Hill. 
 
 BIRDS AND FLOWERS, 12mo. cloth, 6s. 
 
 TALES IN VERSE, 12mo. cloth, 3s. 6d. 
 
 TALES IN PROSE, 16mo. 3s. 6d. 
 
 HYMNS AND FIRESIDE VERSES, 12mo. 6s. 
 
 SKETCHES OF NATURAL HISTORY, 16mo. cloth, 3s. 6d.
 
 IN THE PRESS. 
 
 I. 
 
 THE 
 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF JACK OF THE MILL, 
 
 COMMONLY CALLED LORD OTHMILL. 
 
 Two vols, small 8vo., beautifully illustrated with Wood-cuts. 
 
 II. 
 
 WANDERINGS OF A JOURNEYMAN TAILOR, 
 
 (D. P. HoLTHAUs, from Werdohl, in Westphalia), 
 THROUGH EUROPE AND THE EAST, 
 
 DURING THE YEARS 1824 to 1840. 
 Translated from the Third Edition of the original German. 1 vol. small 8vo. 
 
 III. 
 
 GERMAN EXPERIENCES: 
 
 ADDRESSED TO THE ENGLISH, 
 
 BOTH GOERS ABROAD AND STAYERS AT HOME. 
 
 One Volume small 8vo. 
 
 ©Y [R/m[^V K](o)WOTTu 
 STRIFE AND PEACE; 
 
 OR, LIFE IN NORWAY : 
 
 THE H FAMILY; AXEL AND ANNA; etc. 
 
 3 Vols. Post 8vo. 
 FROM THE SWEDISH OF MISS BREMER. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE 
 
 CHILD'S PICTURE AND VERSE BOOK: 
 
 COMMONLY CALLED 
 
 OTTO SPECKTER'S FABLE-BOOK. 
 
 This most admirable book for children, and their great favourite almost all 
 over the Continent, from Poland to France, and especially to be found in 
 every house in Germany where there are children, the Translator is bringing 
 out in a new and unparalleled form ; i. e. with the text in German, Fkench, 
 and English, so as to present not only a charming book of amusement for our 
 children, but a capital first-book in the other two popular languages. The 
 Hundred Woodcuts will be executed in a style superior to any of the Conti- 
 nental ones, and the whole will be included at a price not exceeding that of the 
 origmal with its single text. A celebrated German Review savs, " Of this 
 production, which makes of itself an epoch in the world of children, it is 
 superfluous to speak. This Fable-Book is throughout all Germany in the hands 
 of parents and children, and wUl always be new because every year fresh 
 children are born." 
 
 [Printed by Manning and Mason, Ivy-lane, St. Paul's].
 
 V' '
 
 WHITEFRIARS; 
 
 THE DAYS 
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 AN HISTORICAL ROMANCE. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 ■ A-i in a imgic mirror, I will give you back the very hue and for of 
 a departed age ; the whims, the passions, the crimes, the virtues, the 
 subtleties the very personages." Greybeard's Jf'anung. 
 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON : 
 HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER, 
 
 GREAT MARLBOROUGH-STREET. 
 
 1844.
 
 C. WHITING, BEAUFORT HOUSE, STRAND.
 
 
 TO 
 
 JOSEPH ROBINSON, ESQ., 
 
 THIS PRODUCTION 
 
 IS INSCRIBED AS A MARK OF GRATITUDE 
 
 AND 
 
 AFFECTIONATE RESPECT, 
 
 BY HIS 
 
 FRIEND AND PUPIL, 
 
 THE AUTHOR.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE TOWER. 
 
 It was drawing nigh sunset on the eve of Sep« 
 tember 1, A. D. 1667, a date of terrible omen to 
 the great city, within whose walls the opening events 
 of our history took place. London lay bathed in a 
 glorious autumnal sun, and was sinking into that 
 busy tranquillity which marks the close of labour in 
 the great hives of human industry. Shops were 
 closing in all security, the burgher's early supper 
 smoked on the table, the watch set their rounds on 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 the city walls, and gamesome 'prentices sallied fortli 
 on tlieir evening recreations. 
 
 The river presented an aspect of peculiar tran- 
 quiUity. It was the Sabbath eve, a day held scru- 
 pulously sacred by the great mass of the people, 
 which was still puritan. The immense fleet of mer- 
 chantmen from every nation stretched along the 
 river; the barges and gilded wherries of the citizens, 
 decorated with streamers and flags, were drawn up 
 along the quays and wharfs, as if they too had a right 
 to their seventh day's rest. 
 
 The gray ramparts and turrets of the Tower were 
 lighted up with Itahan brilHancy , in the rich colours 
 of the sunset, and were decked out in holiday splen- 
 dour, with innumerable banderols, above which 
 floated, on the highest tower, the gorgeous banner of 
 England. The great bell, which usually summoned 
 the inhabitants within the fortress limits before the 
 gates closed, was tolling, and divers belated persons 
 were hurrying towards them. 
 
 Among these, riding at a jaded pace, appeared a 
 soHtary horseman. He was mounted on a powerful 
 nao', whose original colour was probably white, but 
 it was at present a dirty brown, and splashed and 
 travel-stained from head to heel. The harness was
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 3 
 
 Strong and heavy, according to the fashion of the 
 period, and the rider was a tall, well-made man, who 
 wore a liigh hat with feathers, a traveUing-cloak of 
 scarlet, and huge jack-boots with long spurs. His 
 under dress, which seemed a sort of Hvery of orange- 
 coloured cloth slashed with silver, was visible, from 
 the mantle having shpped off his left shoulder, as if 
 to cover a kind of bundle which he carried. A pair 
 of very large pistols, or rather blunderbusses, decked 
 his holsters — ornaments by no means superfluous m 
 that enterprising age, when so many " gentlemen" 
 picked up a Hvehhood as attorneys-errant. In fact, 
 the whole appearance of the rider was that of a dash- 
 ing retainer to some noble house, only he wore no- 
 badge, and that part of the breast wliich is usually 
 decked, was patched over with new velvet. Still 
 his ah was so jaunty and bold, that the warder whom 
 he addressed at the postern respectfully sank his par- 
 tisan. 
 
 " Hollo, brother! — canst tell me if Master Lieu- 
 tenant be in the Tower ; and if so, where a man must 
 seek who hath afiair with him?" 
 
 " Art from over sea ? — methinks thy tongue 
 smacks something popishly," rephed the w^arder. 
 
 " If my Enghsh be good enough to be under- 
 b2
 
 4 CHAELES THE SECOND. 
 
 stood, trouble thyself no furtlier," said the stranger, 
 haughtily. " If not, I shall not mend it for so poor 
 a customer. And now prithee, let me pass. I have 
 business with thy betters, which may not be de- 
 layed." 
 
 " Hast thou the pass-word, good friend?" returned 
 the warder, grasping his weapon, and seeming to eye 
 both horse and man with no prejudice in favour of 
 either. 
 
 '' No, but I bear an order from the council to 
 your lieutenant, sealed with the king's seal, which I 
 must deliver in person to his honour. Here's war- 
 rantry enough, companion." And the stranger pro- 
 duced a. paper, directed as he had affirmed, wHch 
 he thrust under the warder's gaze. 
 
 " Pass !" was the reply, and the cavaher, touching 
 his horse with the spur, entered the gate. He found 
 himself in a small quadrangle, hemmed in by lofty 
 battlements, in which not a single human being 
 seemed stirring. The clatter of his horse's hoofs, 
 however, almost instantly attracted attention. An 
 old man popped his head out of a barred window 
 above, and after listening to the horseman's account 
 of his object, civilly offered to guide liim to the 
 lieutenant's presence.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 5 
 
 A hale-looking veteran, with cheeks as ruddy as 
 apples, though his hair was nearly white, now made 
 his appearance. He stated, however, that the lieu- 
 tenant, Sir John Robinson, was at supper with some 
 friends, and that if the business were not very press- 
 ing it would be better to wait till his honour had 
 done, offering meanwhile a stoup of canary and a 
 seat by a good fire to the stranger, who retm-ned his 
 thanks for this civihty in a somewhat foreign tone 
 and manner, but declared that his errand required 
 immediate despatch. Then carelessly throwing the 
 reins to the old man, 
 
 " Prithee," he said, with an easy air of superiority, 
 " prithee, father graybeard, hold my nag's head, 
 lest I stumble and break my youngster's skull, and 
 thereby waste a soul which may be valuable when 
 it is grown." 
 
 " What youngster, friend? I see none," said the 
 old man. 
 
 " Look here then; thou art old, but didst ever 
 see a prettier creature?" said the cavaHer, lifting his 
 cloak, and reveahng a young child nestling asleep in 
 its warmth. 
 
 " Hast been in Heaven kidnapping cherubs?"
 
 6 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 exclaimed the old man, gazing with admiration at 
 the beauty of the little sleeper. 
 
 *' Nay, faith, if all Tvere told, rather in t'other 
 place," said the stranger, drily. " Hillo, mignon! 
 c'est la reveillee!" And he chucked his bloomy 
 cheek till the child awoke. 
 
 " And is this fair boy your son?" said the Tower- 
 dweller, receiving the child softly in liis arms. 
 
 " It is not quite agreed whose son he is, cama- 
 rado," replied the traveller, springing deftly from his 
 saddle. " But I flatter myself 'tis not impossible. 
 Morbleu ! how a man's feet ache after a ten hours* 
 ride ! Prithee, hast any corner in which to bestow 
 this reeking piece of horseflesh?" 
 
 " There is a hostel in the next yard, wliither I 
 will take it when I have shown you to the lieute- 
 nant ; but methinks there is not much fear of his 
 turning runaway ?" 
 
 *' Never trust a horse or a woman," said the tra- 
 veller, throwing the rein round a projecting stan- 
 cheon. " But now he is secure; give me the child 
 and lead on, gaffer." 
 
 Tlie old man compHed with a smile, and opening 
 a door, admitted them into a small chamber, ap-
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 7 
 
 parently a giiard-room, from tlie military accoutre- 
 ments scattered about. Thence they mounted a 
 narrow flight of stairs, and entered a corridor, the 
 long perspective of which terminated in massive 
 folding-doors. The old man made a new effort as 
 they went to gratify his curiosity by inquiring if 
 the stranger came to see any of the prisoners in the 
 Tower ; and if so, behke some of those confined as 
 abettors in the late popish conspiracy in Dublin. 
 The stranger merely rephed that he knew not his 
 errand till Sir John informed him. The old man 
 nodded significantly, and said no more until they 
 reached the portal, at which he tapped. A tall 
 lackey instantly appeared, exchanged a few words 
 in a whisper, and the door was thro^\Ti open. The 
 cavalier then doffing his plumed hat, stepped boldly 
 forward into the apartment, making a courtly re- 
 verence to Master Lieutenant and his company. 
 
 It was a large square chamber, with two bow- 
 windows, opening on the river, and richly furnished; 
 a table in the middle being set out with much 
 glitter and luxury of viands. At this sat three 
 personages. One, a grave middle-aged man, with 
 hair curhng in iron-gray masses on his shoulders, 
 was evidently the lieutenant, from a warder stand-
 
 8 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 ing behind liis cliair witli a massive bunch of keys. 
 The next was as evidently his guest ; a tall, well- 
 made man, with a fat large-featured face, half-buried 
 in a scented peruke. He had an habitual smile on 
 bis lips, and somewhat weak but lively eyes. He 
 was dressed in the richest fashion of the time, be- 
 dizened in velvet, lace, and gold embroidery, with 
 several lustrous rings on his plump white hands. 
 The tliird at table was a lady past her meridian, 
 but with the remains of great beauty, which she 
 had done her best to revive by all the resources 
 of the toilet, being rouged, patched, jewelled, and 
 laced in profusion. Moreover she had a voluptuous 
 cast of featm'cs, and an eye whose expression did 
 not appear much chastened by her matronly years 
 and station. 
 
 Tlie two latter persons looked at our traveller 
 with some curiosity, and Sir John retm-ned his sa- 
 lute mth a stare and a nod. 
 
 *' Well, sir, your peremptory purpose with us, 
 which could not wait till we ate our strawberries?" 
 said the Heutenant, scrutinizing his visiter. He per- 
 ceived a face slightly marked with the smallpox, 
 distinguished by a very resolute and audacious ex- 
 pression, and a profusion of light mustaches and
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 9 
 
 "beard. His eye fell then on tlie boy, wlio seemed 
 about foiu: or five years old, and wlio stood gazing 
 at him Avith a fine startled eye, as if in wonder. 
 Tlie cliild's figure was slight but tall for his age, 
 liis complexion extremely fair, and features so beau- 
 tiful, that it was hardly possible to look at him with- 
 out interest. His hair was long, and curled in broT\ni 
 ringlets down his back. He was di-essed in a very 
 i-ustic style, in a short coat of gray fustian, yellow 
 stockings, and a wide-brimmed hat buckled with a 
 leaden clasp. 
 
 *' Please your honour, my purpose is best explained 
 in this paper," said the traveller, in reply to Sir John's 
 question. The lieutenant caught a glimpse of the 
 seal, and took the letter with a very important a-hem ! 
 Tlien carefully cutting the silk string, he opened the 
 paper, and read the contents with a grave and thought- 
 ful brow. Meanwliile the gentleman at table played 
 with the tassel of his doublet, and the lieutenant's 
 wife took a dehberate survey of the traveller's person 
 and equipments. 
 
 " Come hither, man," said Sir John, walking to 
 one of the windows; " I must gauge you a little, to 
 see you have no smuggled goods in your hold. 
 Know you the contents of this rescript?"
 
 12 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 and courtly presence," replied tlie lady, carelessly 
 glancing at the boy. "Good tmtli! there is re- 
 semblance enough to make out a case before any 
 justice in the land ; but the child is fairer, and 
 hath a merrier eye. How deem you, Mr. Pepys?" 
 
 " I never saw his lordship but once, and then for 
 a moment through an iron grating," rephed the gen- 
 tleman. 
 
 " Oh fie, Mr. Pepys! I warrant me you have 
 seen him oft enough at the Queen's popish chapel, 
 whither they say you are not so unfrequent a visiter 
 as suits the times," repHed the fair hostess, with a 
 significant smile. 
 
 " Good faith, lady, 'tis a false report of mine 
 enemies," said Mr. Pepys, eagerly; when Sir John 
 interrupted him somewhat rudely — 
 
 " Well, well, Monsieur Deville, or Duval, or 
 what's your name? — we will indulge the earl in 
 this matter for once. -Mark you, for once. Where 
 is the man who came with you? Oh, Edwards," he 
 said, as the old man emerged from a gilded screen, 
 " take the keys of Lord Aumerle's apartment, and 
 guide this gentleman to his presence. Lock them 
 up together for an hour — no longer."
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 13 
 
 *' Alone, your lionour?" said Edwards, witli a 
 dubious glance. 
 
 *' Yes, alone. Wherefore not ?" replied Sir John, 
 witli a sharp glance at his wife. " Tlie order is so 
 worded. An' they were fox and goose, they were 
 ill left together for an instant." 
 
 *' Bring the cliild hither. Master Duval," said the 
 lady, with a tart smile at tliis last observation. " I 
 would give him some fruit and a fairy-like tasse of 
 sherris, if liis rustical poll can bear such unwont 
 luxury." 
 
 '^ And merrily too," said Claude. " And if the 
 goblet were a thought deeper, I would humbly 
 crave leave to drink so fair a lady's health." 
 
 " Thou art a bold companion, friend," said Sir 
 John, "with a glance full of suspicion. 
 
 *' Thou shalt have it, for the valour of asking," 
 pursued the lady, with a spiteful smile at her hus- 
 band. " Mr. Pepys, pray yOu fill that tankard with 
 the Burgundy at your elbow, and give it this good 
 varlet, to drink our health." 
 
 The cavalier obeyed with alacrity, and Sir John, 
 thro-wing liimself into his arm-chair, began crack- 
 ing nuts and humming a tune, affecting to look 
 with indifference on the river. Claude, meanwhile,
 
 12 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 and courtly presence," replied tlie lady, carelessly 
 glancing at the boy. ** Good trutli ! tliere is re- 
 semblance enougli to make out a case before any 
 justice in tlie land ; but the child is fairer, and 
 hath a merrier eye. How deem you, Mr. Pepys?" 
 
 " I never saw his lordship but once, and then for 
 a moment through an iron grating," repHed the gen- 
 tleman. 
 
 " Oh fie, Mr. Pepys! I warrant me you have 
 seen him oft enough at the Queen's popish chapel, 
 whither they say you are not so imfrequent a visiter 
 as suits the times," rephed the fair hostess, with a 
 significant smile. 
 
 " Good faith, lady, 'tis a false report of mine 
 enemies," said Mr. Pepys, eagerly; when Su* John 
 interrupted him somewhat rudely — 
 
 " Well, well, Monsieur Deville, or Duval, or 
 what's your name? — we will indulge the earl in 
 this matter for once. -Mark you, for once. Where 
 is the man who came v^dth you? Oh, Edwards," he 
 said, as the old man emerged from a gilded screen, 
 " take the keys of Lord Aumerle's apartment, and 
 guide this gentleman to his presence. Lock thera 
 up together for an hour — no longer."
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 13 
 
 "Alone, your honour?" said Edwards, witli a 
 dubious glance. 
 
 " Yes, alone. Wherefore not ?" repKed Sir John, 
 with a sharp glance at his wife. " Tlie order is so 
 worded. An' they were fox and goose, they were 
 ill left together for an instant." 
 
 " Bring the cliild hither. Master Duval," said the 
 lady, with a tart smile at tliis last observation. " I 
 would give him some fruit and a fairy-Hke tasse of 
 sherris, if his rustical poll can bear such unwont 
 
 luXUT}'." 
 
 " And merrily too," said Claude. " And if the 
 goblet were a thought deeper, I would humbly 
 crave leave to drink so fair a lady's health." 
 
 " Thou art a bold companion, friend," said Sir 
 John, with a glance full of suspicion. 
 
 " Thou shalt have it, for the valour of asking," 
 pursued the lady, -with a spiteful smile at her hus- 
 band. " Mr. Pepys, pray yOu fill that tankard with 
 the Burgundy at your elbow, and give it this good 
 varlet, to drink our health." 
 
 The cavalier obeyed with alacrity, and Sir John, 
 throA^ing liimself into his arm-chair, began crack- 
 ing nuts and humming a tune, aflecting to look 
 with indifterence on the river. Claude, meanwhile,
 
 14 CHAHLES THE SECOND. 
 
 took Ms goblet witli a profusion of Frencli acknow- 
 ledgments, and pledging tKe lady-lieutenant's liealtli, 
 drained it to the dregs. The boy imitated him di- 
 rectly, and as if conscious of the mimicry, laughed 
 as he set down his little glass, with a smack of the 
 lips which feebly echoed Duval's. He accepted a 
 bunch of grapes from the lady with the same frank- 
 ness, but the lieutenant, as if weary of the scene, ab- 
 ruptly desired Edwards to lead the way. Claude 
 took the boy in his arms, where he was kissed by 
 the fair hostess herself, w^th many commendations 
 of his beauty. Edwards received the bunch of keys 
 from the warder, and escorted them out, Claude 
 bowing rather to the lady than to her potent lord, 
 as he made his exit. 
 
 " Marry, Mr. Pepys, and a very proper man of 
 his calling," said the lady. 
 
 *' Faith, madam, he hath rogue as plainly lurk- 
 ing in liis eye as any fellow I know unhanged," re- 
 plied the cavalier, who was carefully peeling an 
 apple. " But now let me offer your ladysliip a 
 sweet sample of the same rich fruit which tempted 
 Madam Eve — good troth, a love-apple I" 
 
 " This Claude Duval will as certainly come to 
 the rope as his master to tlie axe," said Sir John,
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 15 
 
 rising, and walking hastily up and down. ^' He 
 hatli gallows-bird labelled on liis forehead." 
 
 " Marry, then it "svill be for some offence tliat 
 hath full as much mirth as mischief in it," rephed 
 his gay wife. " "What say you, IVIr. Pepys?" 
 
 " But is it assured my Lord Aumerle will come 
 to the block ?" said Mr. Pepys, making no reply but 
 an expressive smile. 
 
 " No doubt, as soon as the Londoners need a 
 victim, or the court a peace-offering," replied Sir 
 John. " He hath three potent enemies — liis re- 
 ligion, his wife, and himself." 
 
 " His wife !'* echoed Pepys, with great incre- 
 duhty, as if the thing were totally impossible. 
 
 " Yes, sir, his wife,'^ said the heutenant, gloomily. 
 " The bitterest enemy a man has oft lies in his bosom. 
 They have been separated these several years; scarce 
 one year married, ere Madam eloped with that pro- 
 fligate, my Lord Howard of Eskricke. But Heaven 
 be praised, he is as poor as a rat or a cavalier, and 
 they are suffering bitter poverty." 
 
 " Better is a fast in love than a feast in hate," 
 said the lady, with a gay glance at Mr. Pepys. 
 *' But I never heard till now she had such cause 
 for her hatred as tliis fair child would seem to
 
 16 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 Witness; I always tliought lie loved her most 
 immeasuredly. However, if this accusation of the 
 villanous Irish traitor, Blood, prove founded — the 
 axe will rid her not only of a man she abhors, 
 but make her the richest woman in England. She 
 is his cousin, Mr. Pepys, and heir to his title and 
 vast possessions, he having no lawful issue." 
 
 "Good Lord! — and who knows — ^mayhap she 
 is at the bottom of it all !" said Pepys, turning up 
 his eyes. " Good lack, the wickedness of women ! 
 (craving your ladyship's pardon) — But perchance 
 the poor earl may be as innocent as myself. From 
 all that I hear, he has only his popish religion, 
 a -svicked woman, and the mud fury of the rabble 
 against him." 
 
 " Enough and to spare to bring liim to the 
 sawdust," said Sir John. 
 
 " Marry, the earl is too obstinate," replied the 
 lady; "he hath ever refused to divorce his wife, 
 though she swears she will die sooner than return 
 to him. Tliey say she was forced to marry him 
 too by her old savage of a father, and Howard, 
 I know, was her first love; and first or second 
 loves are very hard to root out, Mr. Pepys. — But 
 good lack, now I remember, I promised to show you
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 17 
 
 my Italian violets on tlie soutli terrace. Prithee, 
 Sir John, will yon go with us ?" 
 
 " Nay, wife, I must take my rounds — you know 
 it is the hour," he replied with affected cheerful- 
 ness; *' I dare trust i\Ir. Pepys with your ladyship, 
 though the times are not so virtuous that a man 
 should trust his own brother — but ]Mr. Pepys is mar- 
 ried, and I could avenge me — ha, ha, ha !" 
 
 "Ha, ha, ha!" echoed the guest, rising, and 
 with courtly grace assisting the lady to put on her 
 mantle and hood. " But that were a poor revenge. 
 Sir John, seeing how marvellously your lady hath 
 the advantage of mine in beauty !" 
 
 Then offerincc liis arm with a deep bow, and 
 
 O J. ' 
 
 carr3mig his plumed hat in his hand, Mr. Pepys 
 stepped forth into the corridor, with my lady-lieu- 
 tenant's wliite hand reposing on his velvet sleeve. 
 
 Sir John looked after them for a moment, shak- 
 ing his fist with affected playfulness, and then 
 threw himself into his chair with a deep sigh, 
 when his eye suddenly encountered the motionless 
 figure of the warder behind. He instantly at- 
 tempted to sing, but mth such bad success that, 
 annoyed at his own failure, he began to rate the 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 18 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 fellow for a lazy, loitering, prying rascal; and 
 having commanded liim to remove the viands, he 
 left the apartment, ostensibly to perform his duties 
 in the fortress, but in reahty to steal along the 
 corridor to a narrow window which overlooked the 
 south terrace.
 
 CHAELES THE SECOXB. 19 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 DuTAL, meanwliile, followed liis conductor 
 through a series of passages and gloomy apart- 
 ments, into a narrow basement-floor, where Edwards 
 paused to point out some low planks under a little 
 staircase wliich they were about to ascend. Here, 
 he said, were discovered the bones of Edward V. 
 and the young Duke of York, murdered by their 
 uncle Crookback. He added that the Lord Au- 
 merle was lodged in the suite above, and that 
 the building in which they stood was called the 
 Bloody Tower, from the many sanguinary deeds 
 which had been wrought in it. 
 c2
 
 20 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 Ascending tlie Kttle staircase, Edwards un- 
 locked an iron door, secured by many bolts and a 
 niassive cliain, whicli admitted tliem to a small 
 dark cliamber scantily furnished, overlooking a 
 courtyard below. There was another door oppo- 
 site, slightly ajar, to wliich the old man crossed and 
 knocked. No answer was returned, and motioning 
 his companions to follow, he opened it and walked 
 boldly in, observing that ceremonies were for 
 courts not prisons. A somewhat unexpected sight, 
 however, induced him to pause and sink his voice 
 into a lower key. 
 
 The chamber in which they found themselves was 
 large, but exceedingly gloomy, being hghted only by 
 a high barred window, through which the evening 
 sun fell slantingly, and tlirew all objects but those 
 it touched into deep shadow. Beneath this Hght 
 stood a desk on which were a silver crucifix, a 
 massive candelabra, and -^^litingf materials scattered 
 about. At the table, half concealed in a huge 
 arm-chair, sat a stately form, his head supported 
 on his hand, and apparently so lost in meditation, 
 that he noticed neither the knock nor the entrance 
 of his visiters. He was dressed in black velvet, 
 trimmed with glittering jet ornaments, as if in
 
 CHABLES THE SECOND. 21 
 
 mouming ; and a pointed liat, lying beside Hm on 
 tlie desk, drooped heavily with plumes of the same 
 funereal colour. BQs hair, which was grizzled over 
 with premature old age, had once been glossy 
 black, as liis beard and mustaches still were. The 
 light fell full upon liis face, and revealed features 
 peculiarly handsome, but marked by an expression 
 of deep melancholy, and pale even to ghasthness. 
 His eyes, which were stretched upwards, were of a 
 fine intellectual blue, but though turned in earnest 
 gaze on the iron bars, it seemed as if their sense 
 was lost in thought. He had evidently been 
 writing a paper which lay before liim, for he still 
 held the pen in his hand, and appeared to be 
 ruminating on what he had written. 
 
 The apartment was furnished in the taste of the 
 fifteenth century, with the massive chairs and im- 
 movable tables in which our ancestors dehghted, 
 and the walls were himg with curious tapestry, re- 
 presenting the fortunes of Esther. Tliere was a 
 door open communicating -with another chamber, 
 in which appeared a lofty bed hung with crimson 
 damask richly embroidered. This chamber was 
 lighted by a barred window, looking on huge bat-
 
 22 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 tlements and roofs of houses sloping down to the 
 river edge, wliicli glittered beyond. 
 
 " My lord," said Edwards, " here is one of 
 your servants, who I hope brings you news of bet- 
 ter cheer than you are wont to hear." 
 
 The prisoner started from his thoughtful attitude ; 
 and in the first surprise, laid his hand where his 
 sword should have been; but recollecting himself 
 instantly, he smiled, and said, in a tone of satisfac- 
 faction, 
 
 *' Is it thou, old Talbot? — I am glad to see thee 
 well, for, i'faith, thou art honester as the world goes 
 than ninetcnths of the unhanged. What say you ? 
 — who is so unmindful of himself as to remember 
 me?" 
 
 " Your faithful servant, Claude Duval," ex- 
 claimed the traveller, throwing himself on his 
 knee, and bursting into tears as he kissed the 
 earl's hand extended to raise him. 
 
 " My good Duval ! — you have let no grass grow 
 under your horse's hoofs," said the prisoner eagerly 
 " But where is my — where is the child?" 
 
 '• This is little Mervyn, my lord," said Claude, 
 stepping aside and disclosing the boy, who was
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 23 
 
 clino^inoj to his cloak, and f^^azinof round with visible 
 
 DO 'Do 
 
 terror. 
 
 " 'Tis a lovely thing — I did never see Italian che- 
 rub that matched liim in beauty 1" said the earl, his 
 marble complexion brightening with a deep glow. 
 " Come liither, child — I will not harm thee." 
 
 " Go, Mervyn — what! art afraid of the noble 
 gentleman?" said Claude, taking the reluctant hand 
 of the child, who slunk back. 
 
 *' No, I am not afraid of the gentleman — but 
 what is that black tiling on the table?" said the boy, 
 pointing to the earl's hat. 
 
 " Tut, it is gone," said Aumerle, throT\'ing it 
 aside. " Give me thy hand, Mervyn — tell me, 
 didst ever see me ere now?" 
 
 " Yes — once, when I was a naughty boy, and 
 dreamed a ^^icked dream, nurse said," rephed the 
 boy. 
 
 " Faith, he remembers your lordship's secret visit 
 in Cornwall, when you saw liim by torchUght, as 
 he slept in his crib," said Claude. 
 
 " Yes, and you kissed me, and your lips were so 
 hot — hke fire," continued the cliild, nevertheless, 
 putting his hand in the earl's. ' ' But I am not afraid
 
 24 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 of you, because nurse said, you loved me, although 
 you liated me." 
 
 *' She told thee truly, child, albeit so quaintly," 
 said the prisoner, putting back the boy's fair hair, 
 and gazing at liim with deep and sorrowful earnest- 
 ness, " Look here, Duval ! — see you these spark- 
 ling eyes and perfect mouth? Tliese be the gifts of 
 his beautiful bad mother ; God grant he match 
 her not in wickedness as in beauty ?' 
 
 " Amen, my lord!" echoed Claude. " But I 
 did just leave the lieutenant and his company mar- 
 velHng at his close resemblance to your lordship. 
 In truth, my dearest master — not to quarrel with 
 your opinions on the matter — he is as like you as 
 ever son to father ; — but for all that, I say not that 
 he is your son." 
 
 " Duval," said the earl, with much apparent agi- 
 tation, *' in truth, mine own opinions have under- 
 gone a strange revolution. Good Master Edwards, 
 have you perchance licence to leave us some brief 
 moments alone?" 
 
 " An hour, my lord," replied the old man, co- 
 louring, and starting from the attitude of extreme 
 curiosity in which he was hstening.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 2o 
 
 '' For so mucli then we excuse your kind attend- 
 ance, old Talbot," said the earl, gently; and the 
 keeper of the regaHa vanished, with some appearance 
 of confusion. 
 
 *' The old man hath his faults, hke all human 
 excellence," said Aumerle, smiling placidly after 
 his jailer; " among the rest, unbounded curiosity 
 and creduhty, which are usual companions ; but he 
 hath served me, and his son is to render me some 
 good for much which I did him formerly." 
 
 " But, my lord," said Duval, anxiously, " me- 
 thought you spoke of some alteration in your opi- 
 nions concerning your — the boy." 
 
 " Else deem you I should be seized with tliis 
 dread for Ms safety?" said the earl. " If I still 
 beheved the — the tale — what should I fear for his 
 Hfe from that devihsh pair? Claude, I have learned 
 that which — thou knowest how my poor broken 
 heart did ever cling, even when most deceived by 
 those hideous forgeries, to that strong instinct wliich 
 taught me that every drop in his sweet veins flowed 
 from this heart, which even in its wildest madness, 
 doted on him. Yet, who could have thought such 
 unnatural perfidy could be in woman? that a hu- 
 man mother could rage more cruelly against her
 
 26 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 offspring tlian a flimislied she-wolf ? 'Tis liorrible 
 but to dream sucli horrors — yet they are ! Heaveu 
 forgive me the injury my infatuated credulity has 
 already done thee, my blessed child !" 
 
 And with tears gushing in quick drops from his 
 eyes, Aumerlc clasped the boy in his arms, and 
 passionately kissed him — an operation to which he 
 submitted in silent wonder. 
 
 "'Our Lady be praised for this I" said Claude, 
 brushing the dew from his own lids, which sprang 
 in spite of his efforts. " Yet, by her sweet name ! 
 if ever I doubted that Master Mervyn was yours, 
 every inch of him, may I lack her aid when I need 
 it most 1" 
 
 " Tliou didst ever reason with my madness as 
 with a stormy sea," said the prisoner, more calmly. 
 " But for that, and much more, Claude, if I live, I 
 will prove a grateful debtor." 
 
 The earl continued silent for some minutes, gaz- 
 ing intently at the child. " Duval," he said at length, 
 with a sigh, *' but for one little grain of doubt, how 
 nectarous Avere this cup of joy ! to feel the assurance 
 that my ancestors' glories would yet survive in tliis 
 beautiful and noble form when mine is laid for 
 ever low I — But at present I have no time for tears.
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 27 
 
 albeit of joy. Claude, I tliink — I am sure I may 
 confide in thee?" 
 
 " To tlie last drop of my blood, dearest master 1" 
 
 " AYell tlien, I will tell tbee," said the prisoner, 
 glancing cautiously aroimd. " Mj life is in great 
 jeopardy — indeed I am well persuaded I shall never 
 leave these walls alive, not even to play a part on 
 Traitors' Green ; but if my son were safe, death has 
 no terrors for me. I fear Duval — I fear— nay, 
 I know, that neither his mother nor her para- 
 mour would hesitate to shed even his blood, if they 
 thought it necessary to secure their inheritance 
 from me." 
 
 " But is it possible, my lord, they can carry their 
 wickedness to such damnable excess as to bring you 
 to the block on a charge of which they know your 
 innocence?" 
 
 " I know not, Duval ! They have good witnesses — 
 men accustomed to sell the blood of innocence. The 
 king loves me not — the populace hate the mere sound 
 of my name. Did not Dr. Tongue preach against 
 me in St. Mary's on the Armada day, calHng me the 
 bloodthirsty papist, who only wanted power to be 
 the Haman of this generation of Israel? And 
 Claude," continued the prisoner, turning still paler,
 
 28 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 *' know you not that the chief peijurer against me is 
 that murderous villain, Colonel Blood? He hates 
 and fears me too much to leave liis work half done !" 
 
 " He was well named the Irish Judas !" exclaimed 
 Claude. " But, my lord, give not way to such 
 gloomy forebodings — " 
 
 " Tut, Duval, 'tis not for myself I fear," said the 
 earl, hastily. " Life hath but few temptations left 
 for me ; my sun hath gone down at noonday, and left 
 all darkness. I say not that I desire to die, for I 
 would fain hve to restore my son to his rank and 
 name : but if that may not be — But again I will not 
 indulge in these sad thoughts. Why, as thou sayest, 
 all may yet be well ; the king hath acceded to my 
 earnest prayer, and grants me an audience to-morrow 
 in this dungeon of mine, unless my enemies should 
 meantime learn the secret and baffle me ; wliich I 
 fear not, for it is confided to one man only, my 
 dearest friend, whose importimities wrung this from 
 the king. You have heard me speak of Colonel 
 Sydney — alas 1 and he departed this morn to Den- 
 mark!" 
 
 "But, my lord, what good do you anticipate 
 from—" 
 
 *' Listen, Claude," interrupted the earl, di*awing
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 29 
 
 a paper from liis doublet, liis eyes flashing sud- 
 denly witli excitement. " I hold here a document 
 which vnYL go far to clear me in liis royal eyes, and 
 ■will restore my son to all his rights. Careless as he is, 
 the king loves no injustice which he commits not 
 himself. If I live, this shall be done, if not, my son 
 will survive to avenge me." 
 
 " But, my dear lord, surely there is no reason to 
 apprehend personal violence?" said Claude, shud- 
 derin*]^. 
 
 " You little know what sort of hounds are on my 
 track," repUed the prisoner, with an anxious glance 
 around the chamber. " My enemies have committed 
 themselves too deeply, and, Hke murderers after the 
 first blow is struck, they dare not let me Hvc. \Vlio 
 knows what secrets this tapestry veils? Troth, 
 Duval, these walls could tell many a fearful tale, if 
 they had tongues to speak. I have sounded them 
 about, and they give many a hollow answer. But 
 no matter. If they come not upon me in my sleep, 
 they shall not find it woman's work ! My good 
 Claude, it is not their poKcy to have me die a trai- 
 tor's death, for then the rich inheritance they hope 
 to possess, would be all forfeit to the crown; yet 
 wherefore they have involved me in this Irish con-
 
 30 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 spiracy, and bribed Blood to include me in tlie ge- 
 neral accusation, puzzles my judgment." 
 
 " Mayliap tliey depend on tlieir favour with the 
 king to bar the confiscation," said Duval, anxious 
 to dissipate the still more fearful alternative. 
 
 " It maybe so; and the belief comforts me," said 
 the prisoner, calmly. "And now hsten to me with at- 
 tention, Duval, for what I say must be registered 
 clearly in your memory. Doubtless you were sur- 
 prised at the hot haste with which I sent you to 
 bring this cliild from Wales to visit me in my dur- 
 ance — I, unto whom his very presence once infused 
 horror, thouo-h lovins; him dearer than mine eves ; — 
 in this resembhng the poor dog-bitten -vvretch who 
 thirsts unto death, yet agonizes at the sight of 
 water. Listen then to the contents of this paper, 
 which I may well call my salvation, though thou 
 wilt marvel Avhen I tell thee 'tis a letter from my 
 wife, brought at her command by no more welcome 
 messenger than Blood himself ; and this I mean to 
 show to the king, and none shall deprive me of it 
 but with my life." 
 
 The earl continued opening a paper as he spoke, 
 and little Mervyn, who had now got over liis panic, 
 sat on his knee as he read it, playing with a jewelled
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 31 
 
 miniature whicli hung on his breast. Excited as 
 he evidently was, Aumerle read in a deep stifled 
 undertone, as if he feared that its contents might 
 reach some listener, though there seemed little 
 cause for apprehension, as they had heard Talbot 
 bolting tliree doors after him as he retired. The 
 contents ran thus, slightly broken by the earl's 
 comments. 
 
 "My Lord Aumerle! (for it is thus, Claude, 
 that my affectionate and faithful wife addresses her 
 imprisoned husband) — my Lord Aumerle ! 
 
 "It is with extreme pain, and much doubt of my 
 own judgment, that I write to you once more, 
 and for the last time : but I am overruled by those 
 who have a right to exact this complaisance from 
 me. (Ha, truly ! the villain, Howard, — or honest 
 master Blood?) I write not, my lord, to deaiy 
 that, in the world's eye, you are a deeply wronged 
 man, and I your ■^^Tonger; how far with justice so 
 judged, your own heart better knows — you, who, 
 aided by a father whose cruelty I dare no longer 
 accuse to that tribunal before which he has ap- 
 peared, tore me from the arms of the only man I 
 ever loved, to fill a loathed place in yours. Neither 
 do I write to insult your misfortunes in this that I,
 
 32 CHAKLES THE SECOND. 
 
 SO injured by you, am now the arbitrix of your fate 
 almost as certainly as fate herself— and you know 
 if you have deserved much moderation from me. 
 I do indeed most solemnly avow before God, and 
 would before men, but that other considerations 
 pluck me back, that I did ever hate you, and shall 
 to my dying day and hour. "Why would you still 
 hold a woman in your chains who abhors the mere 
 sound of your name? But in truth I write to re- 
 sume the proposal which I made you oft before, 
 as well as on ]Monday se'nnight, by my friend, 
 Colonel Blood. And these terms I offer you again, 
 very earnestly praying you to regard your Hfe and 
 honour better than to reject them. 
 
 " You know weU (not to speak indiscreetly) that 
 it is in my power either to withdraw the charge on 
 wliich you are a doleful prisoner, or to press it on 
 to its bloodiest consequence. You know with what 
 passion my Lord Howard and I desire to remove all 
 blame from our Hfe by a pubHc marriage, that our 
 child may not be bom also with reason to curse 
 your obstinacy; and this may not be without the 
 church's divorce between us two, which hath long 
 been in heart and person. You know, too, that my 
 Lord Howard is not rich, and I would not bring
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 3S 
 
 him beggary as well as so mucli trouble; tlierefore, 
 I made those terms which, methinks, are as fair and 
 equitable as reason can devise. You are not now 
 to learn that I am heir to your title and rich earl- 
 dom, if you leave no lawful issue, wliich you ^vill 
 not — if you force me to confirm by pubHc declara- 
 tion what I have abeady affirmed concerning the 
 child Reginald. I am now, however, willing to 
 confess that he is your lawful son and heir, (as 
 Heaven witness, so he is !) and to suffer liis inherit- 
 ance, albeit I love him not, (which is a fair proof, 
 he is none of my Lord Howard's, as I feigned, to 
 madden you, and avenge me,) on conditions which 
 I hereinafter name. 
 
 " Firstly: that you join with me to obtain a di- 
 vorce, on grounds of disagreement in rehgion, and 
 the compulsion used against me, wliich, as is just, 
 you must avow. 
 
 " Secondly : that you settle half the rental of your 
 estates upon me during your lifetime, and the manor 
 of Merv}Ti in perpetual ; also, that you charge your 
 son's succession with an annual payment (in case I 
 survive you) of five thousand moidores in gold, 
 Paris weight, wliich is only an addition of one 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 thousand livres on the jointure settled on me at 
 our man-iage. 
 
 " Tliese terms being satisfactorily complied with, 
 I will -withdraw, annul, and disavow, if you wiU so, 
 in legal form, all that I have done and said tending 
 to the opinion of your son's illegitimacy, and I 
 will pubHcly acknowledge him the true and lawful 
 heir to your estate, blood, and dignity. 
 
 *' Otherwise, though it were to cover myself with 
 ignominy to the day of doom itself, I will proclaim 
 you a dishonoured wretch, and yom- son a bastard, 
 before the peers of England, and demand the 
 inheritance which (from your sickly aspect) me- 
 thinks I shall not wait for long, unless you are 
 soon let out of your donjon to the free air. 
 
 " These from the injured woman whose greatest 
 sorrow is, that she is obhged to sign herself, your 
 lordship's wife, 
 
 " Eleanor Aumerle." 
 
 ** Duval," said the earl, gaspingly, as he con- 
 cluded, *' now tell me, in good faith, what think 
 you of this lady ?" 
 
 ''In good faith, then, my lord," replied Claude,
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 35 
 
 " your lady hath even as black a soul as she hath fair 
 body, and methinks that rivals the angels. But 
 what answer sent you?" 
 
 *' Canst ask, Claude ?" said the prisoner, sharply. 
 *' What answer but tliat which I retm-ned to all 
 former threats and persuasions, and which shall be 
 my latest word whether on the scaffold, or torn to. 
 pieces by the mad populace, or struggling beneath 
 the murderer's knife — never, never I They shall 
 have my heart ere they have the word they 
 seek 1" 
 
 " But, my lord, surely there is some wondrous 
 cause for so black a hate ?" said Duval, sooth* 
 
 ** She never loved me, man," repHed the earl, 
 gloomily; "her heart was fixed on this villain^ 
 Howard, but seduced by the knavish folly of her 
 father, and that fatal dower of beauty which wa& 
 all she had — I forced him at the sword's point to 
 resign his pretensions, and wedded her, I must 
 needs own, against her wiU — but then I knew it 
 not!" 
 
 The unhappy prisoner paused abruptly, and 
 Claude, not knowing what to say, stood playing 
 with his plume for several minutes. 
 D 2
 
 36 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 "But arc you well assured, my lord," he said at 
 last, not so much weigliing what he said as anxious 
 to say something, " that Colonel Sydney will not 
 betray your counsel ? I have heard he is a near 
 friend and intimate of Lord Howard^s?" 
 
 *' 'Tis true, but liis very soul is honour — I will 
 not doubt my friend !" said the earl, " much as he 
 loves that rogue, he hath taken my part through- 
 out this affair. Was he not my second when I 
 challenged Howard, and my "wife, disguised as a 
 page, held his horse while he fought mth me ? 
 Ah! had we not been parted by the meddHng 
 watch, I had indeed glutted my revenge, and 
 hacked him to pieces before her eyes !" 
 
 " The time may yet come, my lord !" exclaimed 
 Duval. 
 
 " But if I should perish in the mean time," said 
 the earl, with a ghastly smile, " if you should hear 
 that I, the melancholy cathoHc earl, have com- 
 mitted suicide in the Tower, do thou call it in thy 
 prayers, Claude, murder ! In that case, thou wilt 
 know that mine enemies have thrown the gauntlet 
 to fate, and it will be in vain to urge my son's 
 claims — they will sink with my blood into the 
 earth. I charge thee, expose not his life to dan-
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 37 
 
 ger by any attempt of tlie sort ; the time will 
 come. Keep his liiding-place a secret from the 
 world, and his birth from himself, till he is able to 
 withstand their machinations. Times will alter; 
 and surely now they are at the worst. These tem- 
 pests will purify the plague-tainted atmosphere of 
 men's opinions, and a sunshine foUow which will 
 give the liHes of justice hght to bloom." 
 
 *' But will not silence confirm their possession 
 till too late to be disputed ?" said Duval. 
 
 " And what proofs could be adduced against it ?" 
 said Aumerle, sadly. " This letter ? — they will 
 call it a forgery! Oh, what madness was it that 
 blinded me so that I perceived not her purpose 
 when she rung my consent to a pubhc declaration 
 of the child's death, threatening else to expose all ! 
 and I — oh, fool ! oh, wretch ! led by a mad credulity 
 — well, no more ! I may live to repair my pretty 
 Mervyn's wrongs." 
 
 And he smoothened back the child's fair ring- 
 lets with a look of unutterable love and sorrow. 
 
 " You will live, my lord — we shall all live — to 
 hear Mei-vyn Castle ring with the festival which 
 shall celebrate your heir's restoration !" said Duval. 
 
 " Well, well, I am willing to look on the sunny
 
 38 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 side of things," said Aumerle, with a melanclioly 
 smile. *' But — tliou knowest I am not held a 
 coward — ^but I did never see that man, Blood, 
 without a chill of horror — not fear. I feel as if my 
 evil genius were then in presence — ^but these per- 
 chance are but sickly fancies of a troubled soul — 
 let them pass. Duval, I intend that you sail to- 
 morrow for Calais, and I have devised a plan by 
 which to elude the Dutch and French cruisers as 
 weU as our own. Old Edwards hath a son — a noted 
 smuggler — but at present carrying letters of marque 
 against the French. He commands a little schooner 
 in the river, but having acquaintance and under- 
 standing with the whole coast of France, he will be 
 able to land you at Calais, and for a sum of gold 
 hath agreed so to do. Once there, your letters to 
 the Provincial are a sufficient passport." 
 
 "'Tis a marvellously well-seeming plan, my 
 lord," said Claude, fiUing up his master's pause. 
 '. *^Tlie vessel is lying at Woolwich," continued 
 the earl, " but the crew are principally in London^ 
 at a house on the bridge, kept by an old servant of 
 my family — you remember her. Temperance Brad- 
 ley? The inn is called, if I mistake not, the Au- 
 merle Arms; and Captain Edwards is there, who
 
 CHAKLES THE SECOND. 39 
 
 will take charge of your safety until to-morrow, 
 when you will sail, weather allowing. Spare not 
 till you have placed my son in safety at Saint Omer, 
 and on the instant return with your good news. If 
 you find me ahve, you shall not find me ungrateful." 
 
 "Oh, my dear lord, do not yield to such sad 
 thoughts." 
 
 " I cannot help them, Claude ! — They come over 
 me like the gloom before the storm — I know not 
 whence nor how. But I do hope much from my 
 interview with the king to-morrow." 
 
 The earl now unlocked the desk before him, and 
 opening a secret drawer secured with a spring, took 
 out a letter sealed with his arms, and directed to the 
 Father Provincial, De OHva, at the Jesuits' college 
 at Saint Omer, and with it a canvass bag also 
 sealed. 
 
 " Here are a hundred gold doubloons, Claude, to 
 bear your charges," he continued. *' This letter is 
 to my good friend and early tutor, De OKva, who 
 is now at the college on his visitation ; present with 
 it this bill on my Paris banker, for, though I know 
 the good fathers need no bribe to do me a service, 
 my son shall owe notliing to charity. I also com- 
 mission you to place in the padre's custody my
 
 40 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 jewels and insignia of tlie garter, wliicli lie may 
 preserve as means to identify my son at a future 
 day." 
 
 Opening a gold casket, the earl took out the 
 jewelled chain and dragon of the royal order. At- 
 tracted by the fiery sparkle of the jewels, little Mer- 
 vyn made a bold clutch at them, and the earl, 
 amused by his eagerness, threw the collar over him, 
 and it hung glittering almost to his feet. The ex- 
 ceeding beauty of the child, and the joy which 
 lightened over his face, struck the earl with a min- 
 gled passion of sorrow and delight, and throwing 
 himself back in his chair he hid his face and wept. 
 
 jMei-vyn seemed suddenly to suspect that it was 
 he who caused this burst of grief, and exclaiming, 
 
 *' Don't cry, sir — I will not take them away — I 
 will not," leaped into his father's arms, and kissed 
 him with childish efforts at consolation. 
 
 At this moment the clang of a door was heard, 
 and Edwards's voice in angry expostulation. A 
 deep rough voice replied, in a louder key, 
 
 *' I tell thee, my Cerberus of jewels, and jewel of 
 Cerberuses, I must and w^ill see this caged earl of 
 yours. Here is my warrant from a hand which 
 Master Lieutenant hath allowed, cap in hand.
 
 CHAPvLES THE SECOND. 41 
 
 Pritliee, unbar the den, and let us into this cat- 
 a-mountain — he is too well tamed to tear a body 
 to pieces." 
 
 Edwards seemed to mutter something in reply, 
 and began unfastening the massive door, after 
 knocking to signify liis intention. 
 
 " It is Blood I" said the earl, turning ashy pale; 
 and almost as Claude, who, despite his own strong 
 nerves, was considerably startled, turned towards 
 the door, it was pushed rudely open, and a man 
 stepped into the apartment, followed by Edwards. 
 So pecidiar was the whole appearance of this bold 
 visiter, that even Httle Mervyn, screaming lustily, 
 crouched down and liid his face in his father's 
 mantle.
 
 42 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 COLONEL BLOOD. 
 
 "Pardon, my lord, tKis somewliat abrupt en^ 
 trance into your lionourable presence," was tlie 
 new visiter's address, delivered with a bold scruti- 
 nizing glance on all present, and concluding with 
 one of threatening inquiry at the earl. 
 
 " Colonel Blood's presence always brings its own 
 excuse — apparently," replied the earl, with a deep 
 flush. "But methinks 'tis somewhat surperfluous 
 courtesy to ask a prisoner's pardon for entering his 
 dungeon, sithence he hath neither means nor right 
 to resist such authorized intrusion." 
 
 " I shall not trouble your lordship long; but, for
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 43 
 
 the brief space wluch I needs must, I will anticipate 
 t/our courtesy so far as to seat myself," said the 
 colonel, throwing himself with perfect nonchalance 
 into a chair, and kicking a stool towards him, on 
 which he leisurely crossed his legs. 
 
 Claude felt his first emotion of alarm and curiosity 
 at the appearance of a man so renowned for almost 
 every species of daring \illany, rapidly changing 
 into indignation at his insolence, but he was obliged 
 to suppress all exterior signs, and to content himself 
 with returning the colonel's deliberate inspection. 
 
 He beheld a figure remarkable at first glance for 
 its prodigious strength and muscular symmetry, the 
 bull-like massiveness of the neck and shoulders, and 
 the somewhat pecuhar largeness of the head. His 
 face, however, was what chiefly caught the eye, 
 and fixed it in indistinct fear and suspicion. The 
 features, considered without their expression, though 
 perfectly Irish in their conformation, were not un- 
 handsome ; the lips though thin and too wide, had 
 a determined curve, and the forehead although low, 
 with its massive overhanging eyebrows, gave the 
 idea of a rude power and energy of intellect, able 
 to second, but too well, the volitions of a coarse and 
 sensual nature. Thick curls of close jet black hair
 
 44 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 clustered round his head, his beard and mustaches 
 were, if possible, of a still more raven dye, and 
 grew about his lips and face in short curly bristles, 
 "which gave him a wild-boar fierceness of aspect. 
 But it Vv'as the expression of the^e features, the 
 bloodhound glitter of his large brown eyes which, 
 in spite of the bold plausibility of his manners, ex- 
 cited alarm and disgust in all who beheld him. 
 
 Never was there a truer index of character than 
 this man's visage. Courage, perfidy, a remorseless 
 energy of purpose and execution, were as plainly 
 visible in the workings of his eye as in the acts 
 of that strange and sanguinary career which has 
 stamped Blood the most remarkable villain of an 
 age abomiding in such. 
 
 He was dressed in the usual splendid style of the 
 period, but with something sinister and uncommon 
 in his choice of colours. His doublet was of black 
 silk, slashed with red, his mantle and hat of yellow 
 velvet, profusely ornamented with^ flame-coloured 
 ribbons. His stockings and rosettes were of dif- 
 ferent colours, a collar of crimson lace covered his 
 breast, and a sword of formidable length knocked 
 at his heels from a belt in which was also a single 
 pistol, very richly mounted.
 
 CHAKLES THE SECOND. 45 
 
 Ha\ang seated himself to his satisfaction, Blood 
 amused himself for a raiimite of deep silence (during 
 which the earl seemed hesitating whether to resent 
 his insolent effrontery or not) by taking a keenly 
 dehberate survey of Httle Mervyn, who looked at 
 him Avith unfeigned terror. At last he observed, 
 with a pecuHar smile, 
 
 " The httle gentleman and I seem to have a kind 
 of mutual recollection of each other — may I ask 
 your lordship to refresh my memory with his 
 name ?" 
 
 " Certainly, Mr. Blood," rephed the earl, with 
 forced composure. *' But before I answer your 
 question, allow me to ask what urgent business it is 
 w^hich compels you to break so unwelcomely on my 
 privacy : 
 
 *' Tliat will I in as brief space as you might crush 
 a grasshopper," replied the visiter, carelessly draw- 
 ing his pistol, as if it incommoded him. " But I 
 doubt our audience, though few, is not fit." 
 
 " None fitter, sir ; tliis gentleman is my most 
 trusted and confidential servant. If what you say 
 cannot be confided to honest ears, I care not to be 
 of your audience,"
 
 46 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 "Honest! are your ears honest, friend?" said 
 Blood, turning to Claude, with, affected astonish- 
 ment. " Marry then — look that you do not lose 
 them in the pillory." 
 
 " Faith, sir, I do not think they run any risk in 
 a country where your honour's are safe," replied 
 Claude, sharply. 
 
 *' 'Sbodikins, man, but you answer ghbly," said 
 the visiter, measuring Claude from head to foot. 
 *' And, by St. Patrick's corns, a likely man of the 
 sort ! does your steel ring such jangling music as 
 your tongue?" 
 
 " Will you try, sir?" said Duval, colouring and 
 clapping his hand on the hilt of his sword. 
 
 " Not on such poor cattle as thou art, friend," 
 replied the colonel, with a laugh. " Your eagle 
 will not be crammed with oatmeal like a jackdaw, 
 and my prey is not poor serving-men and insolent 
 varlets, but princes, dukes, and nobles of ancient 
 blood." 
 
 " Peace, Claude !" interrupted the earl, authorita- 
 tively. " And for you, sir, either explain your 
 purpose, or rid me of a presence which I freely con- 
 fess is the most displcasant to me of any on tliis side
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 47 
 
 death. We are not now to leam of what great 
 felonies and Hgh-soaring villanies Colonel Blood is 
 capable." 
 
 ** My lord," replied the colonel, with a compla- 
 cent smile at this last observation. ' * To pass over an 
 eloquent preamble I had prepared to usher in this 
 last trial I shall ever make of your patience ; have 
 you maturely weighed the determination in which 
 I had the trouble to leave you, and are you still re- 
 solved to sacrifice life and honour to a vain scruple? 
 Pronounce the word: I am on my way to the coun- 
 cil, either to confirm or cancel my depositions against 
 you?" 
 
 " The justice of England is not yet so deeply 
 polluted in its streams as at its source, that I should 
 fear your threats," said the earl, calmly. " I dare 
 not think so meanly of any twelve of my country- 
 men as to deem that, prejudiced as they are, they 
 will condemn an EngHsh nobleman to the block on 
 the unsupported testimony of a man so notorious for 
 his indifference to all ties, divine or hiunan, as Mr, 
 Blood." 
 
 " For aU that I have done in the way of tiffs with 
 old mother law, I have the king's pardon in my 
 pocket," replied the colonel. '* And as for the jus-
 
 48 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 tice of any twelve men in England, it is worth pre- 
 cisely wliat tlie liigliest bidder will give ; and your 
 lordship knows if, in your present sequestered state, 
 you are likely to carry the auction. Once more then , 
 I beseech you to consider your resolution — for the 
 last time." 
 
 '^ It is considered, for the last time — hear it !" said 
 Aumerle, with the quivering calm of concentrated 
 passion. *' You are come in good time, Mr. Blood, 
 to witness in common with my servant, Duval, what 
 I now declare, and call Heaven to witness, is the 
 determination in which I will Hve and die. This 
 child on whom your eye dwells with such pertinacity, 
 though educated as the oiFspring of a poor Cornish 
 woman, I hereby acknowledge to be my lawful son 
 and sole heir, Reginald, Lord Merv}m. And as such 
 I leave him the inheritance of his ancestors ; sooner 
 than part with one inch of which to that woman and 
 her paramour, I will die as many deaths as the ut- 
 most rage of my enemies could inflict ! And thereto 
 I call you, Colonel Blood, to bear testimony, as I 
 doubt not my faithful Duval will, when the time 
 comes." 
 
 " With my heart's last drop !" exclaimed Claude. 
 
 *' Say you so, master lackey?" said Blood, T\itha
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 49 
 
 glance of speecliless contempt. "So then tliis burst 
 of madness is your lordsliip's sober resolution ? You 
 refuse to yield a little, and so force those wlio liav 
 the power to take all?" 
 
 *' I defy both them and you !" exclaimed tlie earl, 
 rising with much agitation. " Begone, and do your 
 worst ! There is One above will avenge me ! Yea, 
 I am certain as that I now breathe and speak, and 
 may soon cease to do either, that even in the small 
 arm of this child lives a might which shall some day 
 avenge his father's -wrongs — ay, beyond even his 
 father's prayers 1" 
 
 *' But of what use is passion, my lord?" returned 
 Blood, amusing himself with snapping in-and-out a 
 spring dagger concealed in the pistol. " In truth, 
 if the boy calls you father, ^tis a flattering compli- 
 ment, for he is of a marvellously perfect cut. Marry, 
 how his eyes sparkle to see this sharp toy of mine leap 
 in and out. I warrant me now, young sir, thou 
 wouldst give me a grape or two to play at this? 
 Come liither, child." 
 
 And rudely clutching the boy's arm in spite of 
 Ms shrieks, he drew liim forward, and with such, 
 violence that happening to stumble over the stool, 
 he fell, and hit his forehead against the hilt of the 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 colonel's sword . A red stream instantly gushed from 
 liis brow, and almost simultaneously Blood mea- 
 sured his length on the floor, struck down by a vi- 
 gorous blow from the earl. 
 
 To spring again on his feet, and rush towards 
 Aumerle with his dagger raised, was but an in- 
 stant's work, and the consequences must have been 
 fatal, as the earl, though imarmed, awaited him 
 without flinching, had not Claude darted between, 
 and dexterously clutching Blood by the wrist, 
 wrenched away his weapon, and threw it to the 
 other end of the apartment. The latter, like a 
 tiger bafiled of his prey, turned with additional 
 fury on his new assailant, and a struggle commenced, 
 the issue of w^iich was very doubtful ; but luckily, 
 the noise brought assistance, just as the earl was 
 rushing to part the combatants. Edwards and a 
 Avarder ran in, and succeeded with some difficulty, 
 in separating the em-aged belligerents. 
 
 Meanwhile the earl seemed utterly heedless of 
 the brawl, raising the senseless child in his arms, 
 and calhng for help in a tone of distraction. Ed- 
 w^ards and Duval came to his assistance, and Blood 
 himself, perceiving the impossibihty of further 
 aggression, sullenly desired the warder to give
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND 51 
 
 what assistance he could. Then reseating himself, 
 he quietly stanched the gore which flowed from 
 his own nostrils and brow, glancing from time to 
 time at the opposite group. 
 
 An old woman, whom Edwards summoned, now 
 arrived, and apphed vinegar and some strong wa- 
 ters to the cliild's temples. At last he revived, but 
 only to burst into a long fit of sobbing and crying, 
 during which the earl soothed, caressed, and kissed 
 him with the passionate tenderness of a young 
 mother. 
 
 It was soon found that the cliild had sustained 
 only a trifling injury, and he grew more composed, 
 when his terrors were renewed by the appearance 
 of his enemy, who came forward -with a face much 
 disfigured by blood, and a purple bruise on his 
 temples. Aumerle looked at him with a stem and 
 doubtful eye, though without expecting any further 
 attack. 
 
 " Be not afraid. Lord Aumerle," said Blood, 
 with aloud and scornful laugh. " I do not intend 
 to hurt your lordship; the whole afiair is one of 
 damnable folly, which for my part I scm wilhng to 
 forget and forgive." 
 
 ^' Blood, I know you will neither forgive nor 
 e2 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 IIIINOIS LIBRARY
 
 52 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 forget," replied Aumerle. "I do not desire that 
 you sliould. I know what to conchide from this 
 seeming moderation; but remember, it was your 
 own insolence which provoked me to this act, 
 which, however, I do most heartily rejoice and 
 exult in. Now o-q, whither vou are bound. Mr. 
 Edward?, I desire you to show Colonel Blood out 
 of my apartment, and never, under whatever pre- 
 text, admit him again." 
 
 " Goodness me! but your head is sadly bruised, 
 sir," said Mrs. Edwards, raising her vinegar bottle. 
 *' Let me dress it, for a blue bruise is ten times 
 easier to mend than a green. Good lack do, sir." 
 
 *' My lord," said Blood, without perhaps hearing 
 this invitation in the absorption of passion. " I do 
 not intend to trouble you with my presence again ; 
 but as I would not part in hatred from one whom 
 it needs no stretch of fancy to call a dying man^ 
 I bid your lordship very cordially farewell. You 
 have struck me. Earl Aumerle," he concluded, turn- 
 ing deadly white, and smihng with inexpressible 
 malice. " You have struck me — and I have not 
 returned the blow — look that your prayers be said 
 when I do !" 
 
 And without waiting a reply, he strode to the
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 5^ 
 
 door, stooped apparently to pick up liis pistol, 
 and left the room with a slam which made even 
 its massive walls shake, and sent the dust from the 
 tapestry in a cloud. 
 
 The effect jpf^^iis furious speeg^ oii the earl, was- 
 instantaneous and, strangely d^e|>f He paced " up 
 and down in a" state of extreme agitation, his brow 
 bathed in damp dews. At last he paused abruptly, 
 and telHng Edwards that he needed only five mi- 
 nutes longer privacy, requested him to retire with 
 the warder and his wife into the antechamber. 
 
 " I did abase myself to strike so inordinate a 
 villain," said Aumerlc, when they were gone. 
 " Yet am I glad there was no mortal weapon in 
 my reach, else had I sent him, black with unnum- 
 bered sins before Him whose every law he has 
 broken. And yet, Claude, my blood thickens 
 when I recall his deadly smile, I did ever shrink 
 even from his blandishments, when he seemed most 
 my friend, and by his devihsh artifices induced mo 
 to sign the CathoHc petition, whose delivery it 
 seems was the signal of revolt in Dublin. — If ever 
 you should hear that I have committed suicide, 
 Claude, be sure it loill be by that liandr 
 
 The earl paused and glanced gloomily around the
 
 54 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 wide and dreary chamber, wliicli was tlirown into 
 masses of shadow by the faint rays of moonlight 
 streaming in at the iron bars. Claude could only 
 perceive the deadly paleness of his master's features, 
 but he observed him start, and point towards a part 
 of the tapestry which either stirred, or to Claude's 
 alarmed eye, seemed to stir. He replied to the 
 tacit question, however, with a poor attempt at a 
 laugh, and an assurance that it was only the wind. 
 
 *' It may be so," said Aumerle, after a moment's 
 pause. " My spirits are utterly disturbed and off 
 their hinges. My very senses are the fools of my 
 imagination, my heart palpitates, and my hair bris- 
 tles with horror if a plank creaks, or a swallow twit- 
 ters on the battlements above. Yet was it not I 
 who carried oiFthe only flag lost by Cromwell's army 
 at Worcester? — No more of these folHes ! — Claude, I 
 shall not rest until you are safely lodged at Bradley's ; 
 I know them honest. Here — aid me while I seal 
 these papers." 
 
 He produced a small flint and steel from his escri- 
 toh-e as he spoke, and lighted a taper which Claude 
 held while he sealed the letter and jewels in a parcel. 
 Duiing this operation he continued pressing on. 
 Duval the importance of expedition, and made him
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 55 
 
 promise that lie would not sleep above one night in 
 France, till he returned with his inteUigence. 
 
 Mervyn was however unwilHng to part with his 
 glittering toy, and showed indubitable signs o£ 
 anger when the earl took it from his neck. 
 
 *' Thou shalt have it again, my child," he said, 
 kissing his woimded brow. " Who knows, Duval? 
 Perchance he may wear it some day with honour 
 among the peers of England, when his unfortunate 
 father's very form has mouldered into shapeless dust I 
 Teach him, Claude, when he is older, how I loved 
 him — dearest when least I seemed to do so ! — Tell 
 him how liis mother wronged me, and then he will 
 forgive me — perhaps shed some bitter tears over my 
 grave. And now, though your loyal heart needs 
 no oath to bind it, swear to me, Duval, swear eternal 
 fidehty and secrecy, if not to me, to my child !" 
 
 The earl extended the httle crucifix before him 
 on the table, and Claude dropping on his knees, 
 kissed the holy symbol in confirmation of his pledge. 
 He then, at his master's suggestion, ripped a seam 
 in his mantle, and sewed the paper and jewels in 
 it, together with half the gold intended for his 
 journey. 
 
 The moment of parting had now arrived. Ed-
 
 56 CHARLES THE SECOJfD. 
 
 wards opened tlie door to announce that Master 
 Lieutenant's officer was waiting to receive tlie keys 
 of the wards. Aumerle clasped his young child 
 tenderly in his arms, and repeatedly kissed the still 
 bloody wound on his brow. 
 
 " God have mercy on me I" he murmured in a 
 deep under tone. '' But this is the first time I did 
 ever embrace this beautiful infant as my son, and 
 my soul bodes it is the last." 
 
 Little Mcrvyn began to cry, and clinging to the 
 earl's neck, said that he would not leave him — and 
 asked Claude if he might not stay and live with the 
 gentleman, if he was a good boy. 
 
 " My sweet Reginald," said the unhappy prisoner 
 in a broken voice. " Heaven forbid that I should 
 chain your bright young destinies to mine, which 
 are setting in such darkness. Go with Claude, my 
 child — but be, as you say, good, and we shall meet 
 again." 
 
 The earl, unable to speak further, motioned to 
 Claude, who fastened his mantle carefully, and bent 
 to kiss his master's extended hand, but the latter 
 wrung his with extreme emotion, and uttering 
 only, " My faithful Duval I" took Mcrvyn's hand 
 and led him to the door.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND, 57 
 
 Edwards and tlie warder of tlie keys were waiting 
 in the antechamber, and the latter muttered some 
 observation on the earl's quitting the chamber — but 
 broke off involuntarily, struck by the anguish in 
 his countenance. Aumerle advanced a few steps, 
 proudly striving to conquer his emotion, but a few 
 convulsive sobs burst from him. 
 
 " Bid your father farewell, child — your father !" 
 said Duval, anxious to put an end to the miserable 
 scene. 
 
 " My father, Claude?" said IMervyn, with an in- 
 nocent look of wonder, " I thought I had no father ! 
 Good-by, papa." 
 
 " Farewell, my son ! — Heaven and thy father's 
 blessing be upon thee for ever !" exclaimed Aumerle, 
 once more clutcliing the cliild to his breast, and 
 kissing it with a gush of tears. Tlien, as if ashamed 
 of his emotion, he set the boy down, and desired 
 Edwards to let them out at the gate below. 
 
 Duval pressed his master's hand on his heart, 
 lifted Mervyn in his arms, and followed the old 
 man. In a moment they disappeared down the 
 dark staircase, and the earl returned to his prison.
 
 58 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 NELL GWYN'S apprenticeship. 
 
 Claude, on finding liimself emancipated from 
 the gloomy shadows of the Tower, which seemed to 
 him darker than those of any other building he had 
 ever seen, regained his natural cheerfulness. Not 
 so little Mervyn, although the night was very fine, 
 and brilHant with starlight. Without well knowing 
 why, the child was frightened and melancholy, start- 
 ing at every shadow of the projecting houses, and 
 anxiously inquiring when they should have light. 
 Claude carried him still, and sang as he went, rather 
 to amuse the child than from any gaiety of feehng, 
 though his heart was of that elastic sort which leaps 
 up the moment the pressure is past. He seemed to 
 be well acquainted with the part he was traversing,
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 59 
 
 passing through numberless narrow, crooked, and 
 dark streets, until they emerged suddenly on the 
 shore of the river. 
 
 London Brid<?e — old London Brido^e, crowded 
 with ill-built houses, which sometimes crossed the 
 road on arches — was before him resting on its in- 
 numerable arches, the river flowing placidly be- 
 neath. A high battlemented gate defended the 
 entrance, flanked by towers of solid masonry, and 
 furnished with a portculHs and spiked gate of mas- 
 sive timber. Tlie portculHs was already down, but 
 a small wicket, in the right tower, was open for the 
 convenience of passengers, who, after passing the 
 scrutiny of the watch, entered a dark passage which 
 opened on the bridge. 
 
 Inquiring for the Aumerle Arms, Claude learned 
 that it was kept in one of the towers, a fact which 
 he had conjectured from an emblazoned shield hung 
 over the portculHs, and a bush of birch hanging be- 
 neath a lamp. Tliere was also an inscription in huge 
 letters over the arms which promised well for the 
 kind of cheer to be met within. 
 
 Lodgings and Entertainment for Man and Beast. 
 Good Beef— good Hay — 
 Welcome to go — Welcome to stay — 
 Much to have — and Little to pay.
 
 60 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 Into this hostel Claude made his way, entering a 
 small courtyard, surrounded by a wooden gallery, 
 wliich communicated with all the chambers above ; 
 and inquired for mine host of some carriers who 
 were drinking and feeding their horses. " Do you 
 want the master or the landlord, companion?" re- 
 plied one, deliberately taking the pipe from his 
 mouth, and whiffing the smoke in Claude's face. 
 
 " Why, the master to be sure," replied Duval. 
 
 *'0h, then — slies yonder," said the fellow with a 
 laugh, whicli was echoed all round. " Don't ye 
 see her? Yon 'oomun amucking in the stable; 
 she's been to see the 'orses rubbed down. Ho! 
 mistress, ye're awanted." 
 
 A short fat puncheon of a woman, ^vith a face as 
 broad as a full moon, and crimson with exertion, 
 emerged at this call from a stable at hand, hold- 
 ing a pitchfork which still bore tokens of recent 
 employment. She was attended by a nymph whose 
 appearance certified the nature of the office she held 
 in the establishment. She was a tall, full, well- 
 turned figure, though characterized by an air of 
 habitual laziness and inattention. Her face was 
 fat, fair, and finely-featured, with a rich hazel eye 
 full of wanton moistness, and a sort of voluptuous
 
 CHAKLES THE SECOND. 61 
 
 indolence wliicli was not witliout attraction. She 
 seemed good-humoured from the smile on her pout- 
 ing lips, but on the whole there was an air of dor- 
 mant wickedness and craft spread over her counte- 
 nance which seemed only to want opportunity to 
 develop itself in deeds. She was dressed in a blue 
 petticoat and coarse brown bodice, with a straw 
 hat crashed shapelessly upon her head, and tied by 
 a piece of tattered riband. Her occupation had 
 evidently been holding a lamp, while her more 
 vigorous mistress prepared the stables for the night, 
 and as she thrcAV its gleam over Mrs. Bradley's thick 
 shoulders to look at Claude, it was clear the wench 
 smiled with no imfavoirrable sentiments. 
 
 *' Well, sir, and wot do you want?" was the hos- 
 tess's courteous query, as she stood puffing and pant- 
 ing, and wiping her face with the back of her hand, 
 the palm being deeply tainted with odoriferous 
 matter. 
 
 *' Why, Mistress Temperance, how's this? Have 
 you forgotten your old friend and admirer, Claude 
 Duval?" said the cavalier, and presuming on the 
 licence of old friendship, he invaded Mrs. Bradley's 
 plump cheeks with a chaste salute. 
 
 *'Lawk love you, Moimseer Duval ! Save us!
 
 62 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 the same man every incli of him !" exclaimed the 
 hostess, smiling from ear to ear, and extending her 
 fat red hand, she buried Duval's in its grasp, wring- 
 ing it very heartily. " Well, I'm sure ! and if you 
 ar'n't as welcome as the flowers of May, call me no 
 honest woman, and my house no better than the Old 
 Swan opposite. And so, Mr. Duval, ye'rc married 
 at last, and have a family, I see — after all your 
 talkings against mattermony, and what not?" 
 
 *'Ay, a}^, dame; after you disappointed me, I 
 took up with the first that came to hand," rephed 
 Claude, with a wink at the grinning maid. " Not 
 that I am exactly manied — no man that ever loved 
 you could so far forget what he had lost. But the 
 boy is mine, and nothing to be ashamed of either." 
 
 " You are not ray father, Claude," said Mervyn, 
 pettishly. " Papa wears velvet and a gold chain — 
 you are not papa !" 
 
 '* Faith, mounseer, the urchin savoreth something 
 too much of my lord's look," said Mrs. Temperance, 
 with an acute nod at Claude. " Well, well, I can 
 see my way in a fog as well as most people. But, 
 good lack ! to think how my poor master and lord, 
 that was so main kind to us all, is himself comcd 
 now to trouble ! Oh, the devils ! — it would make a
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 63 
 
 Stone sob to hear liow he's a-served out by the wil- 
 lainousest wretches wot ever was !" 
 
 And Mrs. Bradley burst into a cataract of tears, 
 to the infinite amusement of her attendant, who 
 stretched out her grinning face to an inimitably 
 rueful expression, which almost forced Duval to 
 laugh. 
 
 " Ay, Mrs. Temperance! he was a good master 
 to us all, — and methinks he hath set you up here 
 handsomely as your deservings, — which is saying a 
 wide word," replied he. 
 
 " Why, the place is well enough, and a lucky 
 penny it's been to me, the fifty gold crowns my 
 lord tossed me on my bride day, if I had not married 
 the laziest, good-for-nothingest, drunkenest little 
 scoundrel as ever drew God's air in thanklessness !" 
 groaned Mrs. Bradley. " But howsomedever. Mas- 
 ter Duval, you're entire welcome yourself to the 
 best in my house, for, be praised ! it is mine, and 
 shall be mine to my dying day, as right it should 
 be, seeing the yellows were all mine : for (would 
 you believe it, Mounseer Duval?) the little villain 
 hadn't a ha'penny saved after all his talk and long 
 service with my lord, who, I'm sure, was not a
 
 6-i CHArwLES THE SECOND. 
 
 master to grudge liis folks tlielr little pickings ! — 
 And butler too ! — it makes me sick, sorry, and sad 
 -vvlien I tliink of wliat a fool I Avas to be Avheedled 
 by a little, drunken — " 
 
 " But where is Mr. Bradley now?" interrupted 
 Claude. 
 
 " Where is he always?" said the hostess, throw- 
 ing the pitchfork against the wall. " Why, even 
 just getting as drunk as a sow ^^dth that dare- 
 de^al rake-hell of a captain, young Edwards, and 
 all liis crew of buccaneers about him. But that 
 isn't what I find fault with — that may be all for the 
 good of the house — but — " 
 
 " The very man I want to see," contmued Claude, 
 '- and that is my business here, Mrs. Bradley, next 
 to seeing your own handsom.e face. I am going to 
 take my boy to Normandy to live with my relations 
 there, and Captain Edwards is to take me. Can I 
 see him?" 
 
 "Here — Moll Creswold! — where's the jade?" 
 exclaimed Mrs. Bradley, turning sharply round. 
 
 *' Pse here, missus," replied the damsel, colouring 
 with fear lest the sudden turn had revealed her oc- 
 cupation of making fiices at her mistress.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 65 
 
 " Show the gemman up stairs, to No. 3, among 
 the sailors," said Mrs. Temperance. " Tell 'em he 
 wants Captain Edwards." 
 
 " I will hunt him up, myself, dear Mrs. Brad- 
 ley," repKed Claude, hastily. " But I hope you will 
 give us your company at supper over a pottle of 
 sack, to talk of old times. Let us have a stewed 
 chicken, Mrs. Bradley — ^you were famous at stewed 
 chickens in my lord's time.'^ 
 
 The hostess smiled at this flattering compliment, 
 hut as Moll Creswold had now obtained a link from 
 one of the ostlers, the conversation was cut short for 
 the present, and Claude followed his fair conductress 
 up a flight of wooden steps to the gallery above. 
 Here by a sudden gust of wind the torch was ex- 
 tinguished, and the girl, protesting she was afraid 
 of ghosts, clutched hold of Claude's arm. But his 
 usual gallantry deserted him on this occasion; he 
 shook her somewhat rudely off", and groped his way 
 along a narrow corridor in darkness. Moll, how- 
 ever, darted forward with great agility, and uncere- 
 moniously threw open a door before him. 
 
 A curious scene presented itself It was a large 
 awkwardly planned apartment, full of projecting 
 cornices and recesses, and nearly half hanging hke 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 CHARLES THE SECOXD. 
 
 a penthouse over tlie river. A vast sea-coal fire 
 fcumed in a cliimney of sucli dimensions, tliat it 
 looked like a black anti-room ; and around it, seated 
 at wooden tables covered with beer-jugs, tobacco, 
 arms of various forms, and coarse esculents, sat the 
 most miscellaneous group w^hich Claude in his wide 
 experience had ever seen. Some dozen sailors were 
 there, dressed in many varieties of marine costume, 
 but all furnished abundantly with offensive weapons, 
 such as pistols and hangers. 
 
 The captain of the band was easily distinguished 
 by the tawdry splendour of his garb, and the general 
 respect paid to him in a rough way. He was a 
 large-boned, vigorous-looking man, about thirty, 
 with a face bronzed by exposiurc and hardship, 
 features extremely coarse, a clear, bold eye, and an 
 expression of honest good-nature and kindness of 
 heart wliich made his countenance on the whole 
 very agreeable. He vfore a blue coat, which seemed 
 so richly bedizened, though much faded, that it 
 raised suspicion of having belonged to some naval 
 officer of high rank ere it passed into the present 
 owner's possession, especially as his scarlet woollen 
 cap and coarse white trousers were by no means of 
 a corresponding character. He had a steel belt
 
 CHARLES THE SECOXD. 6? 
 
 Stuck with pistols, and a very handsome hanger, 
 somewhat ostentatiously decorated with ribands. 
 
 But there was another object which more par- 
 ticularly attracted Claude's observation. Seated on 
 the captain's knee, with one slender arm round his 
 burly neck, sat a young and beautiful girl — beau- 
 tiful in spite of rags and the few articles of tawdry 
 finery which she had contrived to decorate herself 
 withal. She seemed scarcely sixteen years old; 
 her figure was light and very graceful, though 
 somewhat low, and her face might have served a 
 painter as a model for Hebe, so fair, fresh, and 
 sparkling with gaiety and good-humour was its 
 every line. Her dress was of the most tattered and 
 poverty-stricken description, but even her rags were 
 arranged mth intuitive grace. She wore a short 
 yellow petticoat, patched with all the colours of the 
 rainbow, and a bodice so ragged that the fine turn 
 of her neck and its whiteness were but too visible. 
 Clusters of natural ringlets of the purest gold, which 
 she had twined with some flowers, shaded her fair 
 face. A basket of oranges and a string of ballads 
 beside her, seemed to denote the girl's occupation, 
 and when Claude entered, she was singing some 
 sea-ballad to suit the taste of her auditory, but with 
 f2
 
 6S CHAKLES THE SECOND. 
 
 SO sweet and ricli a voice, that a king's ear need 
 not have disdained it. 
 
 Not far from this group sat a little man on a 
 stool, with a large fat face, a nose of extraordinary 
 dimensions, and small twinkling eyes, who seemed 
 listening with maudUn tears of dehght to the girl's 
 song, — jogging himself and a brimful tankard of ale 
 to keep time. 
 
 Claude's entrance obviously disturbed the good 
 meeting. The song ceased, and the songstress made 
 an effort to spring from the sailor's knee; but he 
 pulled her back, with a rough " D — n it, Nell, 
 what's the go now? art afeard, girl?" 
 
 " Not of me, I hope, sir," said Duval, with a 
 flourish of his hat. 
 
 *' No, nor o'th' devil himself when Jack Ed- 
 wards is by, let alone a French jackanapes !" re- 
 plied the captain, with a fierce survey of Duval's 
 person and accoutrements. 
 
 *' Faith, Jack, the gentleman is not a man to 
 frighten one," said Nell, for such was her name. 
 
 " I am able to take mine own part, pretty damsel, 
 yet I thank you," said Duval. " But Captain Ed- 
 wards mistakes me ; my business is with him : you 
 perhaps know this signal."
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 69 
 
 He -wliispered a word in Edwards's ear, wKicli 
 seemed to produce a great effect; and exclaiming, 
 " Lord love you ! so, you're come at last ! welcome 
 as Torbay in a gale!" he sprang up and slioolc 
 Claude's liand very lieartily. 
 
 Nell took the opportunity to transfer herself to a 
 stool near the fire, and shading her face with her 
 hand, took a smihng survey of the new guest. The 
 latter, as soon as released from the sailor's rough 
 welcome, gave him a letter, which he turned over 
 and over again, without opening. 
 
 " The fiend take it !" he said at last, throwing the 
 paper into the fire. ' ' I was never at college, and there's 
 an end of it. But I see it's all right; you are the 
 popisher I'm to take out for ballast? On the skit, 
 eh? And the young un is your kid?" 
 
 " You are well informed; I am the man — Claude 
 Duval." 
 
 *' Very well, cast anchor and take in beef and 
 grog,'' continued the jolly mariner, a true specimen 
 of the fine old blusterous English sailor before white 
 kid gloves were worn on quarterdecks. " We can't 
 sail before to-morrow, 'cause of the tide — meanwhile 
 you're d — d welcome, and depend on't Jack Edwards
 
 70 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 takes you over tlie lierring-pond as safe as a keg of 
 brandy." 
 
 ^' And give me the sweet boy: I will nurse liim 
 for you, master; I see lie dotli not mucli affect your 
 rougb beard," said tlie girl, extending her arms, and 
 little Mervyn leaped j oyously into them. ' ' All ! how 
 I love him abeady. How like he is to the Cupid 
 painted over the duke's playhouse." 
 
 " Why, what ails the boy ?" said Duval, smihng, 
 " frightened of a pretty girl, thou milk- sop?" 
 
 " Nay, but I am so cold," shivered the little ur- 
 chin, creeping closely to the bosom of his young 
 nurse, who, clasping him fondly, and putting her 
 rosy cheek to his, formed unconsciously a group of 
 extreme beauty. 
 
 " Ay, warm thee there, thou true chip of the old 
 block," said Claude. " Where should faith be foimd 
 In this world if not in a woman's heart ?" 
 
 " Hollo, Moll!" exclaimed Edwards, " run and 
 bring a can of punch, and tell your mistress to make 
 it smack more of the brandy; I'm sure it don't stand 
 her much in customs. And now, sir, try that ere 
 beef— prime Hamburg dried, sir." 
 
 *' I have ordered a stewed fowl," said Claude.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 71 
 
 ** Wliat's a stewed fowl to take in for a sea- voy- 
 age ?" exclaimed the captain. ' ' It may do as a finisli 
 off, like bran over the barrels ; but for a beginning, 
 nothing like a good bottom, say I !" 
 
 Thus pressed, Claude set to work at the dish be- 
 fore him, and in spite of coarse bread and a dirty 
 cloth, soon found it very appetizing. It was curious 
 how quickly he took the tone of the society ; he used 
 the slang dialect as if accustomed to it, toasted the la- 
 dies, drank with the men, and becamein a few minutes 
 a general favourite of all, and particularly of Nell. 
 
 Claude was surprised at the vivacity and mt of 
 the young ballad-singer, and she seemed pleased 
 with his sprightly gallantry, a circumstance which 
 by no means delighted Captain Edwards. Jokes, 
 not remarkable for decency, passed ; and Claude 
 remarked with interest that Nell frequently co- 
 loured up, as if not quite habituated to the free 
 and easy style in conversation. 
 
 In the height of this scene, Mrs. Bradley entered 
 with the stewed fowl, followed by an idiotic-looking 
 boy, who carried a white stone bottle of brandy, and 
 a silver tankard of sack. Tliese articles were placed 
 before Claude, and pursuant to in^dtation, ]\Irs.
 
 72 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 Bradley seated lierself at table with liim. Claude 
 asked all around to partake, but all refused except- 
 ing merry Nell, wlio protested witb an arcli smile, 
 tbat sbe was tired of salt beef There was some little 
 difficulty about finding Nell a seat higher than her 
 stool, till Duval bethought him of turning his chair 
 down, so that the sprightly orange-girl and he sat 
 balancing each other ; to do which, however, it was 
 necessary at times to catch hold of one another to keep 
 the scale true, and the whole affair was conducted 
 with such laughter and good-humoured gaiety on all 
 sides, that Edwards grew more and more sullen and 
 silent. Nobody noticed this, however, until Moll 
 Creswold, who had been silently picking a bone and 
 watching, gave him a slap which broke his re very. 
 
 " A penny for your thoughts, my dear?" said she, 
 with a knowing smile at Nell Gwyn and the courtly 
 valet, who were at the moment jinghng glasses to- 
 gether to each other's health. 
 
 " It's a cram; I don't care a splash of an oar about 
 her, the slut !" said he, contradicting her look rather 
 than her words. " Why, Moll, your'e as good-looking 
 as her o' Sundays, and don't change with every wind 
 that blows. Come here, girl, and sit on my knee :
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 73 
 
 I'll give tliee them gold ear-rings witli tKeir bright 
 stones, whicli I found on tlie drowned lady at Stral- 
 sund. I meant them for Nell, but she's better suited." 
 
 And with a glance of huge indignation at poor 
 Nell, he pulled Moll Creswold to him, nothing loth, 
 and triumphantly installed her in the august position 
 indicated. The girl's eye flashed, and she almost 
 snatched the jewels from Edwards as he drew them 
 fiercely out of his breast-pocket. 
 
 " Nay then, if you deprive Mistress Nell of her 
 place, she must have another," said Claude, by a 
 gentle movement transferring Nell to his own knee. 
 The girl laughed musically, and for a moment Ed- 
 wards looked seriously inchned to pick a quarrel, but 
 on second thoughts continued sullenly smoking liis 
 pipe. 
 
 " Come now, darhng Nelly, this is all nonsense," 
 said mine host, speaking for the first time in a sub- 
 dued tone, as became the helpmate of Mrs. Tempe- 
 rance Bradley. " Do give over your skitting, there's 
 a fine woman, and sing the captain that song wot 
 you were going on with when mister what's-his-name 
 came in." 
 
 " Shall I, Jack?" said the girl, smiKngly parting 
 Mervyn's hair, who, having eaten his fill, reiumed
 
 74 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 his place on lier lap, for slie had extricated herself 
 firom Claude. 
 
 At this moment the loud jangling bell of the 
 innyard was heard, and Moll Creswold was ob- 
 liged to resign her new honours to answer it. 
 
 " Do what you like, girl; you're not what I took 
 ye for," growled Edwards, puffing his tobacco very 
 fiercely. " Do what you Hke — it's nothing to me." 
 
 *'Nay, then, I should slap you on the face, for 
 spoiKng your good looks for nothing," said Nell, 
 playfully. " But now. Jack, you don't pretend to 
 like Moll Creswdd half so well as me?" 
 
 " Why, Nell — zounds ! you know there's nothing 
 on earth I loves better than you, when you behaves 
 yourself Hke a lady," said Edwards, looking up with 
 a somewhat brightened expression. 
 
 *' Well then, Jack, I'll sing you your favorite 
 song, and we'll be friends again," said Nell, extend- 
 ing her hand, which the honest sailor let his pipe fall 
 to grasp, and wrung it so hard that she screamed 
 out, half laughing at the same time. She was then 
 opening her little ruddy mouth to sing, after bespeak- 
 ing attention with a smiHng glance around, when 
 Moll Creswold re-entered, followed by a tall stranger.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 75 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE GREAT FIRE. 
 
 The new giiest at the Aumerle Arms, entered 
 making a profound bow. He Y/as -wrapped in a 
 large white woollen cloak and hood, with liis hat 
 slouched down to his eyes. He was armed with a 
 blunderbuss and sword, and altogether resembled 
 one of the city watchmen, who at that period wore 
 a pecuHar costume. 
 
 " Don't disturb yourselves, ladies and gentlemen," 
 said the stranger in a deep hoarse tone. " I am a cove 
 in difficulties, and this here warm covering is bor- 
 rowed without leave from a^ gentleman whom I
 
 76 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 knocked down for following me too close, wlien I 
 didn't want to salute my acquantainces." 
 
 Duval was disagreeably struck with some of the 
 tones in the man's voice, which also seemed some- 
 how or another counterfeited. He turned and re- 
 marked without any pleasure, a pair of glittering 
 eyes fixed upon him ; the rest of the countenance 
 was concealed. 
 
 " Don't be afraid, captain," said Moll, smiling 
 with a good deal of mahcious meaning. " The 
 gemman is a real flash swell^ — -but gover'ment and 
 he can't agree about some little matter ; I think they 
 want to grab his scrag, and he don't encourage the 
 ideer, that's all — eh, Tom?" 
 
 " That's all, and enough too," replied Tom with 
 a hoarse laugh. ' ' I hear they've prepared apartments 
 for me in Newgate, and a chaplain ; but I a'nt so 
 fond of taking mine ease in irons. They've hunted 
 me out of Whitefriars itself — curse'em ! — and one 
 of the bloodhounds would have nabbed me last 
 night, as I took a ride out by Hounslow, but for 
 this old barker of mine. Molly, my dear, bring me 
 a pipeful of that ere bitter backy, and a pot of 
 brown George, and I'm snug for the night."
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 77 
 
 So saying, the wortliy drew a stool behind a 
 projection of the fire-place, and there seemed to 
 give himself up to the undisturbed enjoyment of the 
 restoratives he had ordered. 
 
 Claude's attention, however uneasily called to tliis 
 personage, was now diverted by Nell, who asked if he 
 liked sea-songs. Claude gallantly replied that he hked 
 any thing she Hked, and solicited her to fulfil her 
 promise and sing. The girl then began in her sweet 
 musical tones, glancing from Claude to Edwards 
 with eyes brimful of comic humour. 
 
 NELL GWYN'S SONG. 
 
 The sea, the sea, is England's, 
 
 And England's shall remain, 
 Tho' the might of France, and the -vrorld advance, 
 
 To contest our ocean reign ! 
 Quoth gallant Blake, as he spread his sails, 
 
 And his cannon shook the waves ; 
 Fire away, hoys! for the day is ours, 
 
 Or here, lads, foam our graves. 
 Eire away, boys ! quoth he again. 
 
 For the sea, the sea, is England's, 
 And England's shall remain ! 
 
 The fresh ^vinds blowing loud and strong, 
 
 The Spaniard fled— which rare is — 
 And we chased them far, and we chased them long, 
 
 Till they anchored in Canaries.
 
 78 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 Quoth our admiral, as their castles blazed 
 
 With guns like a stormy night, 
 Do they think to frighten us? Fire away, boys, 
 
 For old England's might and right ! 
 Fire away, boys ! quoth he again ; 
 
 For the sea, the sea, is England's, 
 And England's shall remain! 
 
 We smik and burned and we took them all, 
 
 With gold and spices laden, 
 And our sweethearts each had a jolly haul. 
 
 For each loved his English maiden ; 
 But as home we came — quoth oiu* admiral, 
 
 I'm going, lads, aloft I 
 And he died with a smile, but his dying word 
 
 Was, Fire away, boys! now board her! soft ! 
 Fire away, boys ! quoth he again, 
 
 For the sea, the sea, is England's, 
 And England's shall remaui. 
 
 " What dost thou call that song, lass?" said Ed- 
 wards, wiping his eyes. " Lawk-amercy, I recol- 
 lect old Blake as plain as a pikestaff, and good 
 reason I should, for says he to me one day — it was 
 the day we hcked the Dutch off Portland — I was 
 but a youngster then, and had never been in action 
 afore — Says he to me, — I was astanding near my 
 gun, and my teeth chattering, like most green things 
 afore they've seen a reg'lar good set-to — says he : 
 * Now mind. Jack, stick to your gun, for if you 
 don't, younker, I'll blow your brains out !' — and
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 79 
 
 tHen he turns away, and if I didn't see him wipe his 
 eyes in his sleeve, my name isn't Jack Edwards — 
 that's all." And he smoked away with great ve- 
 hemence. 
 
 " 'Tis called Blake's last cruise — here 'tis, in the 
 Ever Green," said Nell, producing a ballad. 
 
 " I'll buy one of thee, Nell, and there's the ran- 
 som," said the captain, clutching the ballad, and 
 tossing the songstress a gold doubloon. 
 
 " You have it now — an old song for your money," 
 said Moll Creswold, with a tart laugh. 
 
 " And I'll have another, though it cost me 
 double," said Claude Duval. 
 
 " You shall have one for nothing," said Nell, with 
 a provoking smile at Edwards. 
 
 " Hark ye, Mr. Dooval," said Edwards, swallow- 
 ing his punch in one huge gulp, and looking as if 
 he could ahnost cry. *' Ye're a foreigner, and I 
 hears that you cm'sed French frogs don't understand 
 the proper EngKsh way of boxing — but you're 
 great hands at the sword. Now I don't pretend to 
 know more of that sort of thing than a reg'lar 
 downright cut and come again, and you I suppose 
 know all the dancing tricks of fence — but as I was
 
 80 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 a saying — wot was it? — ^wliy, d — n me, if I stand 
 it— that's all." 
 
 *' Bravo, Jack I— go it, salt un !" shouted the 
 gentleman in the woollen cloak. 
 
 '* And I'll begin by making an example of you, 
 
 sir, for interfering where you have no concern. 
 
 Well, Mr. Dooval, will you 'ceptmy proposition?" 
 
 *' Are you mad, captain, or do you forget whence 
 
 or why I come?'^ said Claude. 
 
 *' Why don't Nell then pay me proper attention, 
 as she ought," said the captain, ruefully. " An't I 
 a-going to marry her some day?" 
 
 " Come — come, let's all be friends and comfort- 
 able — Help us ! —what have we to do to quarrel?" 
 said the little host, his eyes overflowing with maud- 
 lin tears. " Come, come — agree, agree and grace'U 
 come upon ye! — and let's have another bowl of 
 punch, wife." 
 
 " It's Sunday morning!" said the muffled guest, 
 in a tone of mock sanctity, which made the com- 
 pany laugh heartily. 
 
 " What matters that?" said Edwards, jovially, for 
 Nell had resumed her place beside him, taking care, 
 however, to place Mervyn between them. " We'll
 
 CHARLES THE SECOXD. 81 
 
 liave another bowl for a Darter — tliev'll not o-rudG^e 
 us a little pleasure in Heaven, seeing they've so 
 much of it there themselves." 
 
 This argument was considered decisive ; and Mrs. 
 Bradley, who had fallen into a deep snore, was 
 roused to prepare another bowl of tlie exhilarating 
 nectar. But at this moment Moll rushed in, wild 
 with joy, to announce that most dclighrful of all 
 spectacles to a London mob — a great fire. There 
 was really something fiendish in the girl's delight as 
 she announced the greatness of the mischief. '* The 
 fire had broken out at Master Farryner's, the king's 
 baker; the houses on each side were in a blaze, and 
 the engines could not play for want of water, so 
 that a glorious bonfire was expected." 
 
 Tliis was enough. The whole society instantly 
 rose, and some ran out, while others threw open the 
 windows. Amomr the latter were Claude and the 
 gentleman in the woollen cloak. The river and sky 
 in the direction of the fire were illuminated by a 
 broad blaze, over which the church of St. Magnus, 
 at the top of the hill, seemed like a gigantic spectre 
 coming in clouds of darkness. Tlie bells of many 
 churches were ringing an alarum ; people were run- 
 ning in all directions, watermen driving their wher- 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 lies towards tKe sliore — every thing in commotion. 
 This was irresistible; host and guests, all poured 
 out. Claude snatched up little Mervyn, offered his 
 arm to Nell, who gladly accepted it, and they joined 
 the general rush. As he pressed down the stairs he 
 thought he felt some one clutch him by the cloak, 
 but the grasp was loosened instantly, and turning, 
 he saw Tom the highwayman pushing past. Sup- 
 posing it might be accidental, Claude hastened on, 
 and crossing the bridge had no need to inquire his 
 way to the scene of destruction.
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 83 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE PURSUIT. 
 
 Nearly all Fish-street was in a blaze. In spite 
 of every exertion whicli tlie cumbrous engines of 
 the time, worked by the inhabitants, could make, the 
 whole street seemed one vast mass of flames. These 
 were rapidly spreading — a whirlwind of smoke and 
 sparks was di'iving down the hill towards London 
 Bridge. A strong east wind seconded the violence 
 of the flames, and the wooden houses filled mth 
 timber and marine stores, seemed like prepared fuel. 
 
 A large crowd watched the progress of these 
 events; yells, screams, shouts for help, resounded 
 g2
 
 84 CHAPwLES THE SECOND. 
 
 on every side, but tlie great mass looked on in stupid 
 amazement. The distracted inhabitants were en- 
 deavouring to save tlieir goods, and all was the 
 wildest confusion. A few constables appeared, but 
 the J also seemed out of their senses, andt did nothing 
 but vainly exhort the crowd to order. Tlie con- 
 fusion was too great to permit Nell to keep her pro- 
 tector's arm ; he saw her forced away in the crowd 
 without the power of resistance. But shortly after- 
 wards, he perceived her standing beside a dashing 
 cavaher, who was laughing and shouting at the 
 flames. 
 
 The conflagration continued with increased fury, 
 and Claude, with emotions of awe, heard the shout 
 which annoimced the appearance of flames from the 
 steeple of St. Magnus. In a few minutes the whole 
 church was in one vast blaze. 
 
 Meanwliile shouts of "Fire I" resounded over the 
 whole city, and the population began to pour out 
 in every direction, mad with mingled fear and cu- 
 riosity ; for nunours were now heard that the ca- 
 tholics had formed a plot to burn London ; and a 
 mad fanatic rushed through the streets, yeUing — 
 *' God's great judgment ! London is falling, London
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 85 
 
 is fated ! Notliing can save tlie Jezabel of cities ! 
 Lo, tlie Lord blows tlie flames witli tlie great bel- 
 lows of Hs winds !" 
 
 Tlie arrival of tlie Lord Mayor, and a small di- 
 vision of the trainbands, seemed only to add to 
 the general distraction. In a sliort time tlie fire 
 had increased so terribly that all Tliames- street 
 seemed in one continued blaze. Tlie riot and con- 
 fusion wliich prevailed began to make it dangerous 
 even to look on, especially for a foreigner, as ru- 
 mours were afloat that either the French or Dutch, 
 mth both of whom we were then at war, had con- 
 certed a plan, with the Jesuits, to sack and burn 
 London. Claude grew apprehensive for his own 
 and the boy's safety, and thought it would be more 
 prudent to regain his inn, and seek out Edwards. 
 But to his surprise and consternation he found that 
 the fire liad worked round, and that several houses 
 on the bridge were already in a blaze. 
 
 For some minutes he was in doubt Avliat to do, 
 but finding himself already an object of suspicious 
 scrutiny to several muffled men about him, he 
 thought it best to beat a retreat. Accordingly he 
 made his way down an obscure alley leading to the 
 river, intending, if possible, to get a boat ; but he
 
 86 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 liad scarcely stumbled half way down tlie uneven 
 causeway, ere he felt himself seized by the coUar 
 behind, and a voice which made his heart leap, 
 shouted — '* Stop, rogue !" Turning sharply at this 
 ominous greeting, Claude perceived the gentleman 
 in the woollen cloak, whose appearance had already 
 excited his suspicions. 
 
 "Diable! que voulez vous?" exclaimed Duval 
 in his first surprise, and fumbling confusedly for 
 his sword ; but the stranger was too sharp for him, 
 and seized his wrist in such a gripe that, embar- 
 rassed as he was with the child, he felt it useless to 
 attempt resistance. 
 
 " Don't struggle, it's of no use," said the captor, 
 very coolly, and raising the flap of Ms hat, he re- 
 vealed the countenance of Colonel Blood. *' And 
 now you know me, I suppose you have no objec- 
 tion to go with me before a magistrate? I have a 
 warrant — here it is — to arrest you as a French spy. 
 I have plenty of assistance at hand, so you had bet- 
 ter go quietly at once." 
 
 " It is impossible; you have mistaken your man," 
 said Claude. 
 
 ''Fal-de-ral !" repHed the colonel. "Are you 
 not my Lord Aumerle's French valet ? Surrender,
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 87 
 
 or I blow your brains in tbe gutter. You know 
 me, I see, by your quaking eyes. No more hum- 
 bug, but come along." 
 
 *' I will not stir a foot. I tell you, colonel, you 
 are mistaken," said Claude, unawed by tlie pistol 
 presented at liis head. "Fire, if you dare; it is 
 murder." 
 
 *' That child in your arms protects you, fool, or 
 we would jump that," grumbled Blood, dropping 
 the muzzle. " We must try anotlier way with you. 
 Ho! Hill, Green! dogs! where are they?" 
 
 He touched the spring of a rattle, which gave a 
 pecuhar sound, probably well understood by his con- 
 federates, and three or four men, dressed as consta- 
 bles and well-armed, ran down the court. Blood 
 then, by a sudden movement, endeavoured to seize 
 the child, shouting to liis comrades to aid ; but dex- 
 terously taking the opportunity to release his hand, 
 Claude retreated a few steps, drew his sword, and 
 made a blow at his antagonist, which cut the hat off 
 his head, and grazed his brow. 
 
 " Why, then, have at ye ! To hell, French dog !" 
 shouted Blood, firing his pistol. 
 
 Luckily, in the darkness and hurry of his aim, 
 the bullets passed Claude, who, meanwhile, shouted
 
 88 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 '^Murder !" "Robbery !" "Help I" with all his 
 miglit. In a moment Blood, observing the ill-suc- 
 cess of his shot, drew his hanger, and rushed to the 
 attack. His satellites followed his example, and, 
 in a few seconds, Claude was driven with his back 
 against a door, where he stood resolutely defending 
 liimself. 
 
 Some of the inhabitants of this dark region, 
 hearing his cries, put their heads out of window, 
 and joined the outcry without attempting any as- 
 sistance. Blood, however, continued exhorting his 
 assassins not to hurt the child, and their fear to do 
 so did Claude yeoman's service. Nevertheless, the 
 combat must have been very briefly decided, as, 
 though perfect master of his v/eapon, it was impos- 
 sible to withstand such odds, when a new ally sud- 
 denly appeared. 
 
 *' Shiver my timbers !" shouted the voice of one 
 coming up the alley, " five to one 1 ■ it isn't fair I 
 What, Mounseer Dooval ! Stand to it, sir, and 
 Jack Edwards is your backer." 
 
 A vigorous arm, wielding a cutlass, followed up 
 this address, which cut one of the ruffians down, 
 and Claude heard a whistle evidently blown in 
 the agitation of the combat. He was now en-
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 89 
 
 gaged hand-to-hand witli Blood, the child screaming 
 and clinging round his neck, embarrassing his move- 
 ments, though in some measure protecting him. 
 Tlie whistle produced a similar effect to the rattle 
 in summoning new combatants, but on the contrary 
 side. A niunber of sailors appeared at the entrance 
 of the alley, who, seeing their captain engaged, in- 
 stantly knew which side to take, and rushed to the 
 rescue. The superiority of numbers was now on 
 Claude's side, and even the ferocious Blood, ob- 
 serving his men fly in all directions, formd it impos- 
 sible to keep the field, and ran off shouting for help 
 in the king's name, and raising the terrible view- 
 halloo, " A popish spy ! a popish spy !" 
 
 Claude knew that tliis call would not long remain 
 imanswered, and after hurriedly thanking Edwards 
 for his opportune aid, which the generous seaman 
 swore was only what he would have done to any 
 man in similar need, let alone his freight, they 
 consulted about what was best to be done. Ed- 
 wards, who had a sailor's dread of meddhng in mat- 
 ters where the law seemed to thrust herself, advised 
 that they should all get on board his vessel as fast as 
 possible. Claude agreed in this opinion, and they 
 ran to the water's edge, where, at Edwards' shout,
 
 90 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 " Sculler! sculler!" a small wKerry sliot from be- 
 hind a vessel towards tliem. Claude, Edwards, and 
 little Merv}Ti, witli two of the sailors, leaped in, 
 and rowed out into the middle of the river, to get 
 clear of the numberless boats and barges rushing 
 about. 
 
 This attempt was, however, soon found a failure. 
 The waters near London bridge were crowded with 
 every description of craft, barges, boats, rafts, float- 
 ing furniture, casks, timber, bedding — as if a great 
 fleet had suflered wreck some short time previously. 
 
 Claude, who felt certain that Blood's design was 
 not on him but on his young charge, grew every in- 
 stant more nervous at the delay. He represented to 
 Edwards that their pursuers would undoubtedly 
 overtake them on the river, where resistance would 
 be impossible. He therefore thought it would be 
 best for the captain to land him, and bring liis own 
 barge to meet him at the Tower stairs, as early as 
 possible in the morning. This plan was thought 
 feasible, and executed instantly; they drove their 
 boat on the sands near London Bridge, and Claude 
 made the best of his way through back lanes to East- 
 cheap, while Edwards went in a contrary direction, 
 to fulfil his part of the contract.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 91 
 
 Stepping into an obscure inn, Duval ordered wine 
 and bread for breakfast, and snugly ensconced in a 
 dark comer, listened to tlie various and conflicting 
 reports of tbe numerous visitants. He beard tbat 
 tbe fire was raging witli increased fury — tbat all at- 
 tempts to stop its progress were vain — tbat tbe Lord 
 Mayor was out of bis senses — tbat Sir Jobn Robin- 
 son and tbe guards from tbe Tower were parading 
 tbe streets — and, tbat tbe burning bouses were ran- 
 sacked as if in a city given up to pillage. 
 
 As to tbe cause of tbe conflagration, opinions dif- 
 fered witb every individual — tbe Frencb, tbe Dutcb, 
 tbe Jesuits, baving eacb tbeir vebement partisans. 
 Unable at last to sit quiet, witb bis mercurial blood, 
 wbile a wbole city was in commotion, Claude bor- 
 rowed an old cloak of tbe landlord, and sallied fortb 
 again into tbe tumult. 
 
 Tbe morning was just breaking, but tbe denseness 
 of tbe smoke, and tbe fiery darkness of tbe atmos- 
 pbere, made tbe dawn unnoticed. Soldiers of tbe 
 city bands were stationed in tbe streets, to prevent 
 tbe masses from rusbing up and down; but all sub- 
 ordination was now at an end ; no man beeded au- 
 tbority or entreaties ; terror bad broken tbe bonds of
 
 92 , CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 fear and reverence, and society seemed resolving it- 
 self into its first wild elements. 
 
 Claude observed some few wKo still kept tlieir 
 senses, endeavouring to pull down the houses adja- 
 cent to those already in flames, but the mass of fire 
 driven in tremendous billows before the wind, defied 
 all their efibrts. The wooden houses, whose pro- 
 jecting balconies furnished a ready-made train, con- 
 tinued to blaze away, and as their owners were prin- 
 cipally dealers in oil, pitch, tar, brandy, ropes, and 
 timber, the conflagration frequently burst out into 
 raging furnaces of the most beautiful white and co- 
 loured flames. Men's ruhng passions seemed now 
 heightened to delirium ; some cursed and howled 
 imprecations over their ruin, others knelt in the 
 muddy streets, sung hymns and prayed with frantic 
 enthusiasm, as if the end of the world were come. 
 
 Thames-street was now reduced to a heap of red- 
 hot ruins ; Gracechurch-street was all a blaze, and 
 the two great hues of houses on each side — Lom- 
 bard and Fenchurch-street — had caught the fiery 
 contagion. Churches — the flaming giants of the 
 scene — towered over the ocean of fire, blazing to 
 their very summits.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 93 
 
 At tills time tlie conflagration had assumed the 
 shape of an immense bow of fire, and the same fa- 
 natic who had previously harangued the crowd, 
 pointed this out to them. 
 
 " Behold the bow — no longer the bow of promise 
 but of destruction !" he exclaimed, A^dth frantic ve- 
 hemence. " Behold the presage, not of water but 
 of fire — not of mercy but of utter up-rooting — not 
 of pardon but of wrath, for ever ! The arrows of God 
 are flaming in it ! Woe to thee, London ! Sodom 
 of cities I Who shall stand in the gap for thee !" 
 
 Escaping from this madman and the intense heat 
 of the surrounding flames, Claude thought that he 
 had best make his way to the Tower, to meet Ed- 
 wards. But he soon found himself baffled in this 
 plan; soldiers were in possession of all the outlets 
 to the shore, and refused, in spite of all liis repre- 
 sentations, to let him pass without a written order 
 from the Lord IMayor. The latter functionary he 
 heard was at "VMiitehall, where the council had met 
 in confusion, to debate on what was proper to be 
 done. Moreover, the idea occurred to Claude, that 
 such a request from a foreigner at that juncture, 
 could produce no other efiect than to consign him 
 to a duno^eon. Not knowinof what else to do, he
 
 94 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 now strove to return to his inn — but on approach- 
 ing it, lie found it already in a blaze. In tliis 
 dilemma, concluding that lie should be least noticed 
 in the deepest confusion, he followed the sweep ot 
 the crowd through the fiery city. Even little 
 Mervyn's terror had now given place to admiration, 
 and when they stopped before the Exchange, which 
 was in one vast blaze, he clapped his hands with a 
 kind of joy. 
 
 The hours of tliis dreadful day past in the over- 
 whelming emotion of all men's minds, hke centuries 
 in a dream. None kept comit, and not a gleam of 
 dayhght penetrated the crimson air. The sun, in- 
 deed, hung above hke a bloody circle, but seemed 
 to give neither hght nor warmth. The confusion, 
 the outcries, drowned all recollection. 
 
 Claude, hke the rest, was insensible to the passage 
 of time. He wandered about amidst the confusion, 
 stunned and stupified by the noise and cries, and the 
 universal terror, but no one seemed to heed him. The 
 streets were choked with furniture and goods from 
 the burning houses; carts laden with the more pre- 
 cious commodities were locked and confused toge- 
 ther, so as to paralyze all attempts to bring assist- 
 ance.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 95 
 
 Claude stood gazing in mute terror, and almost 
 suffocated with smoke, at tKe gigantic mass of 
 flames presented by tlie burning Guildhall, when 
 he felt the tassel of his cloak pulled. He started 
 round, and saw, what in the dense smoke appeared 
 to be the spectre of a young girl, so pale and 
 ghastly were her featm-es. A moment's attention, 
 however, told him that it was Nell Gwyn, so lately 
 the merriest of the merry. Claude's gallantr}^ had 
 not, however, totally deserted him. 
 
 " Sweet Mistress Nell !" he exclaimed, when she 
 interrupted him Avith an emphatic gesture. 
 
 *' Don't speak to me that way now — it is too ter- 
 rible!" she exclaimed. " I have just made my 
 escape from that wicked lord with whom you saw 
 me — his name is Rochester — but his blasphemous 
 Avit is too horrible. O, Claude, do you think tliis 
 is the day of judgment?" 
 
 *' If not, we shall not see a worse till it comes!" 
 rephed Duval. 
 
 ''And that poor child!" exclaimed the girl, 
 bursting into tears. " But I forget, Claude; I have 
 been seeking you for hours, to put you on your 
 guard. I heard that detestable looking villain in 
 the white cloak, inquiring for you everywhere —
 
 96 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 describing 3^011 exactly — but people are so lost in 
 misery, tliey can't tell what lie means. All ! good 
 Lord be gracious ! yonder lie is." 
 
 She pointed through a rush of fiery dust, to a 
 figure standing on a high horse-stone, and appa- 
 rently shouting while he directed some operations. 
 A glance at his terrible countenance, lighted by the 
 congenial glare of the conflagration, was enough 
 for Claude. 
 
 " I must run for it, Nell — my life is on a cast, 
 and the child's too !" he exclaimed. " But if you 
 woidd merit Heaven's pardon for any Httle sin of 
 yours, do an act of charity for me ! You will find 
 Edwards waitino- me at the Tower stairs — the sen- 
 
 o 
 
 tinels Avill let you pass — tell liun to go on to White- 
 hall, and be there by ten to-night — if it is not that 
 already." 
 
 " I will," said Nell, resolutely; " but look to the 
 child, Claude, he is white as snow." 
 
 Duval then, fearful of attracting his persecutor's 
 eye, gratefully pressed the girl's hand, lea\dng a 
 moidore in it, and vanished before she could return 
 it, as she wished to do. 
 
 News that both sides of Cheapside were on fire, 
 turned the srreat stream of arazers in that direction,
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 97 
 
 and Duval joined it. The mob was arrested in its 
 progress near Mercer's cliapel, by tlie sudden pour- 
 ing in of four simultaneous fires, wliicli here met 
 as in a common reservoir. Threadneedle-street, 
 Walbrook, and Bucklersburyj now lav open, and 
 immense vistas of flames were revealed by the fall 
 of all tlie intervening houses. The roar of break- 
 ing timbers, the dust, the smoke, the suffocating 
 smoulder, were succeeded by a solid mass of flames 
 a hundred feet in height. Raising a yell of terror, 
 the mob rushed past, carrjang Claude with it, and 
 he presently found liimself one of a vast and silent 
 multitude, gazing on the destruction of the gTeat 
 cathedral of London — the mamificent St. Paul's of 
 Inigo Jones. It was a scene such as an imagination 
 of surpassing grandeur might have dreamed, but no 
 human eye had ever seen before — the sublime of 
 terror. There was a vast mob, but were all hushed 
 into the silence of extreme awe. Innumerable faces, 
 pale, haggard, and as if changed into stone, so fixed 
 was their affrighted expression, were turned towards 
 the spectacle. 
 
 Claude stood behind a group of horsemen richly 
 garbed, one only of whom — a tall, oHve-com- 
 plexioned man with a very brilliant eye — was co- 
 VOL. I. H
 
 §8 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 vered. This personage Claude soon learned was the 
 King; another rider, covered with dust and grime, 
 he recognised as the Duke of York. The cavalier 
 with whom he had seen Nell Gwyn was also near 
 the king, holding the bridle of his horse, which 
 snorted with terror as every gust of wind blew 
 showers of burning sparks among them. A few 
 soldiers, fixed hke men of bronze, stood around — 
 but no one stirred — the uselessness of all resistance 
 seemed tacitly allowed. 
 
 The heat was now intolerable, and Claude thought 
 that the stones beneath his feet were turning red- 
 hot; but the fascination of terror kept all chained 
 totihe spot. St. Paul's — the great St. Paul's, the 
 glory of London — was in flames ! The whole sum- 
 mit of the church, (for the wind had conveyed the 
 elements of destruction there first,) was in a blaze. 
 The galleries were wrapped in luminous torrents; 
 shining volleys of flame burst out every instant in 
 every direction, and baffled all hope of saving the 
 enormous building. The lead was melting Hke 
 snow before the sun, from the vast roofs; the 
 stupendous beams, the enormous masses of stone, 
 were yielding and falHng with deafening uproar, and 
 crushing in the roof of the church of St. Faith,
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 99 
 
 wLicli grew like an excrescence on tlie majestic 
 structure above. 
 
 To add to the terrors of this scene, numbers of 
 the sick — some dying of the still lingering plague — 
 were borne past on their beds, or in blankets. One 
 was carried close to Claude, in the last agonies, co- 
 vered with purple sores, and yelling hideously as he 
 pointed to the flames. — " Hell, hell !" 
 
 The scene had now attained its highest pitch of 
 horror, and St. Paul's presented for some minutes the 
 appearance of a cathedral built of fire, till at length 
 the roof fell in, with a roar like that of the sea break- 
 ing on a rock in a storm. All then became one im- 
 mense pyramid of fire, the flames of which lapped 
 the sky. Yet even in this terrific moment, Claude 
 heard the king whisper to the cavaHer at his bridle, 
 *' Oddsfish, man, methinks I only need a fiddle to 
 substantiate the comparison with Nero which my 
 loving subjects are constantly making." 
 
 " Faith, sire, I think this will stop their com- 
 plaints about the want of fuel," replied the cavaher. 
 *' The citizens may roast their dinners here cheap 
 enough." 
 
 "Look, "Wren! what sort of immortality have 
 you architects?" continued the king, turning to a 
 h2
 
 100 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 grave-looking man in sad-colored brocade, wKo 
 seemed attentively watcliingtlie conflagration. " See 
 you tliere ! Inigo's magnificent portico is fuel for a 
 bonfire." 
 
 " 'Tis possible to build one tbat sliall surpass it, 
 sire," returned the architect. 
 
 " Will you then be our Michael Angelo, doctor?" 
 replied the king, smiling. 
 
 '* Yes, an' it please your majesty," replied Wren, 
 smiling too, but with a deep flush, and a luminous 
 sparkle of the eye. 
 
 At this moment Claude was conscious that some 
 one was looking at him intently, over a wall of the 
 churchyard, on which clustered a tlirong of the 
 lowest populace. To feel that this gazer was Blood, 
 and that he was detected, was in Claude simultan- 
 eous with an attempt to fly. For some minutes, 
 however, the turbulence of the crowd made it im- 
 possible to force a way ; but he succeeded at length 
 in reaching an open place. Certain now that he 
 was still pursued, he resolved to make for White- 
 hall as fast as possible. That he was followed was, 
 however, in a few minutes evident, for as he turned 
 into Holbom, then a long succession of straggling 
 houses and gardens, he heard voices shouting.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 101 
 
 *' Stop liim, stop liim ! a Jesuit, a spy !" and louder 
 than all, resounded Blood's dread tones. 
 
 These cries seemed to lend Claude wings ; leaving 
 tlie burning city in his rear, he ran, with the child 
 in his arms, over the fields between Holborn and 
 the Strand. Still he imaguied he heard voices 
 calHng to each other, and the distant tramp of 
 pursuers; and he continued running as fast as 
 his living burden permitted, until he reached a 
 stile near the church of St. Martin-in-the-Fields. 
 Here he ventured to breathe and look round ; but 
 his consternation was again excited by observing 
 several men with torches and drawn swords, crossins: 
 the opposite hedge. To leap the stile, and resume 
 his flight, was but a moment's thought ; still the 
 pursuers had evidently caught sight of their prey, 
 and renewed the chase with loud haUoos.
 
 102 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE FLIGHT. 
 
 Collecting liis fainting strengtii with a last 
 effort, Duval continued liis course rapidly, and 
 leaving the palace and gardens of Whitehall on 
 his left, plunged down a passage between two dead 
 walls, which led to the stairs where Edwards was 
 to meet him. In a moment his feet were on the 
 lowest step of the landing-place — in vain ! — not a 
 living soul appeared, nought but the river was 
 there, rolling in the fiery fog which enveloped all 
 things. He drew his sword, and looked around to 
 ascertain if no less desperate resource presented it- 
 self. The balustrade leading to the river had a
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. lOS 
 
 slight projection, behind which, he thought it barely 
 possible to remain concealed; and he ensconced 
 himself in it almost at the same moment that the 
 flash of torchHght appeared on the summit of the 
 stairs. Glancing upward, he perceived Blood, fol- 
 lowed by three or four of his myrmidons ; the for- 
 mer waved a torch, and hung eagerly forward, while 
 his ill-omened countenance expressed extreme vex- 
 ation and surprise. Claude saw that they paused, 
 and entered into eager discussion — Blood persisting 
 that he had seen him run down the steps, another 
 ruffian asserting that he ran on farther. 
 
 *' He must be drowned, colonel, if he went down 
 here," said one. 
 
 "If that's the case, I don't want his carcass to 
 feed my hounds on," replied Blood, sullenly. " But 
 I must be sure the brat's safe — I would not for five 
 hundred pounds he escaped us. Come on, bulHes ! 
 Your torch. Berry !" and snatcliing the brand, he 
 moved slowly and circumspectly down the stairs, 
 looking earnestly forward to the water, probably 
 expecting to behold some signs of recent immer- 
 sion. 
 
 Claude's heart beat thick, but he moved not a 
 muscle ; and the boy too seemed hushed by sympa-
 
 104 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 thetic terror. At this moment tKe dasli of oars was 
 heard, figures approached through the fog, and 
 Claude heard the boisterous voice of Edwards, 
 shouting, "Mr. Dooval, Mr. Doovall" but music 
 never soimded half so sweet to his ear. 
 
 "Here I am — help — murder — quick!" shouted 
 Claude, springing up, and rushing down the steps 
 waving his sword. 
 
 " Row, boys, row I" yelled Edwards in reply, and 
 with a few lightning strokes of the oar they were 
 close to the shore. Blood, however, recovered his 
 presence of mind in an instant, though struck at first 
 by this sudden apparition, and sprung at Claude, 
 shouting to his men to follow. The subsequent 
 events past with the bewildering rapidity of a dream. 
 Claude remembered exchanging a sharp clash with 
 his enemy's sword, and that in his desperation he 
 tlirew the cliild to Edwards, who fortunately caught 
 it in liis arms. Then, at the moment when all the 
 ruffians poured themselves upon him, he called to 
 Edwards to row off, and leaped into the water. 
 Blood had, however, clutched his cloak firmly, and 
 held him as he buiFeted with the water, calling lus- 
 tily on his men to shoot him. 
 
 Edwards dashed the boat back to the rescue, and
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 105 
 
 made a slash at tlie colonel with liis cutlass — but it 
 was parried by Berry. Observing then that Claude 
 was nearly strangled by the tightness of the cloak 
 round liis neck, he di-ew his keen blade across it, 
 severing the skirts from the collar. Some of the 
 sailors instantly dragged Duval on board, almost 
 senseless, and Edwards gave the order to row out. 
 But the cloak — that cloak which contained so many 
 invaluable documents — remained in Blood's hands ! 
 
 Meanwhile the colonel, furious at his victim's 
 escape, called to his men to fire on the boat — that 
 they were popish conspirators escaping — and a 
 volley of musketry followed their retreat. Luckily 
 all missed, though the shot rained in the water on 
 all sides, and Edwards, stimulating his men by 
 thi'eats and promises, seized an oar liimself, and 
 dashed furiously off. In the distance, however, he 
 heard Blood shouting, "A sculler! a sculler I — 
 twenty pounds for a sculler !" A vessel answering 
 the call, instantly shot from the opposite shore, and 
 Edwards had no doubt but that they should be "vi 
 gorously pursued. 
 
 In the first confusion of his escape, Claude forgot 
 his cloak and every thing else ; and when he missed 
 it, intense as was his regret, to attempt to regain it
 
 106 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 would have been madness. Moreover, tlie extreme 
 danger in wliicli tliey were, quickly absorbed all 
 tKougbts but those of self-preservation. A boat, 
 well-manned by their pursuers, appeared in the 
 middle of the river, in their wake, and the deep 
 hoarse voice of Blood was heard, cursing and shout- 
 ing to the people on the waters, to stop the French 
 incendiaries, who were flying from justice. So 
 great, however, was the panic caused by the fire, 
 and men's ignorance of what they had to dread, 
 that no one offered any obstruction. 
 
 Nothing could equal the rapidity of the flight but 
 that of the pursuit; one boat followed the other, 
 like the bloodhound after liis prey. Many shots were 
 fired by the pursuers, but still the hurry and con- 
 fusion made them all ineflectual ; a^id now, strain- 
 ing every nerve, the fugitives approached London 
 Bridge. Nothing ever surpassed the dreadful mag- 
 nificence of that spectacle. The sky above was like 
 one vast vault of redhot brass, in which shone a pale 
 moon ; the shores on each side seemed like measure- 
 less furnaces, as if indeed the whole earth were on 
 fire. The roar of the flames was like that of the 
 sea. All around the bridge appeared like a vast 
 hill of fire, or rather an ocean of flames wliich the
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 107 
 
 wind drove into monstrous billows. Tlie terror of 
 tte scene, and tlie violence of tlieir exertions, chilled 
 tlie ardour of Edwards's men, and in spite of his 
 threats and Claude's entreaties, Blood was obviously 
 gaining upon them as they approached London 
 Bridge. 
 
 A sight awaited them there which seemed hkely 
 to put a finish to the matter. Tlie bridge was one 
 mass of flames supported on arches of fire ; houses 
 were crumbhng down, timbers falHng and hissing 
 in the water, burning tar-barrels floated past, and 
 almost every description of furniture and goods was 
 tossed madly out of the windows into the river. 
 Beneath and amidst this terrible bower of fire, held 
 up by mere cohesion of redhot masses, it was neces- 
 sary to pass if they would escape. Edwards's sailors 
 paused involuntarily on their oars. 
 
 It was indeed a tremendous sight ; the numberless 
 arches of the bridge, and the blazing houses on it, 
 forming a mass of fire which seemed to toAver to 
 the sky itself. On each side, as far as the eye could 
 reach, roUed eddying seas of flame, bounded only 
 by the horizon. 
 
 In this perilous moment, the native gallantry of 
 the EngUsh seaman broke out in all its peerless
 
 108 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 lustre. " D — n it, lads I" exclaimed tlie captain, at 
 tlie pitcli of a voice which had often been louder 
 than the sea in a gale — " it shall never be said that 
 Jack Edwards was the man to desert his friend 
 in danger. Pull away, boys; the rascals dare not 
 foUow." 
 
 The brave seamen raised a hearty cheer, and seiz- 
 ing their oars again, rushed into the blaze. 
 
 Blood and his myrmidons rested awestruck on 
 their oars, near the entrance of this terrific volcano, 
 probably expecting the destruction of the fugitives. 
 Edwards's boat, and the persons in it, appeared for a 
 moment all crimson in the glare ; they reached the 
 burning arch, and as they shot under it, a gun- 
 smith's shop above blew up mth a tremendous roar. 
 A wliirlwind of black smoke and fire instantly en- 
 veloped them, and when it cleared up, boat and voy- 
 agers had alike disappeared from the pursuers' eyes. 
 Whether or not they had perished in the rush of 
 ruins, it was impossible to ascertain, and Blood, mut- 
 tering a fearful curse, threw himself back exhausted 
 in his barge. 
 
 The fugitives themselves, if interrogated, would 
 have been unable to declare by what exertions, or 
 rather by what chances, they escaped ; but they
 
 CHARLES THE SECOIfD. 109 
 
 found themselves floating like men in a dream, op- 
 posite tlie Tower. Claude's alarms, liowever, had 
 not subsided even when in comparative safety, and 
 though the loss of his precious cloak nearly drove 
 him mad, he felt that all that could be done was to 
 ensure the safety of the young boy, thus obstinately 
 menaced. Cheering the exhausted watermen with 
 the promise of a gold doubloon a piece if they re- 
 newed their exertions, he and Edwards each seized 
 an oar. The burning shores of the river gave them 
 ample light, but it was only by great skill that they 
 avoided the numberless impediments in the waters- 
 
 The tide was in their favour, and they drifted 
 down to Shadwell without difficulty, when once clear 
 of the bridge and wharfs. Edwards's barge, well 
 armed and manned, awaited them there. Once on 
 board this craft they proceeded on their voyage to 
 Woolwich in gallant style ; but it was midnight be- 
 fore they leaped on the schooner's deck, and could 
 pronounce themselves safe. 
 
 Still Edwards was apprehensive of pursuit, and as 
 the wind served, he raised his anchors instantly, and 
 they shot down the river, at a rate which soon left 
 the earthly Tartarus behind them out of sight.
 
 110 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 When morning dawned, Black Betsy, as tKe 
 scKooner was called, had dropped far down the 
 river, and all cause for apprehension seemed gone. 
 
 The vessel and the crew were both of a kind by 
 no means unusual in those stormy and daring times. 
 It was a tight little schooner, admirably adapted to 
 the dangerous coast-trading in which it was, some- 
 what unlawfully, engaged ; but being originally in- 
 tended for more peaceful service, it was rather awk- 
 wardly fitted with war-gear. Still it was the fastest 
 sailer, and the Hghtest coaster, that evers muggier co- 
 veted, and was the darhng and pride of every man 
 on board; indeed they all spoke of it with a kind 
 of rough affection, as they did of their sweethearts, 
 and would as soon have knocked the man down who 
 doubted the merits of" poor old Black Bess" as him 
 who insulted their ladye-loves. Withal they were 
 a wild, ferocious sort of fellows, the very rakings of 
 a lawless and disorganized age ; men of iron frames 
 and unflinching hearts, whose only law was their 
 captain's will. Even now, though sailing with royal 
 letters of marque, it was doubtful whether the go- 
 vernment regarded them as buccaniers or allies ; and 
 Edwards showed by his anxiety to avoid the royal
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. Ill 
 
 fleet, wHcli lay at the nioutli of the river, that he 
 doubted the light in which he was regarded at head- 
 quarters. 
 
 Claude found that, splendidly as he was to be re- 
 compensed, it entered not into the captain's head to 
 find any thing improbable in the account which it 
 had pleased Lord Aumerle to give. Accordingly 
 lie himself passed as a Popish emigrant, and the boy 
 as his son. Meanwhile his anxieties were all trans- 
 ferred to the loss of the papers, jewels, and part of 
 the money which was to bear his expenses. He con- 
 soled himself, however , by the reflection that no 
 blame could be imputed to him, since he had pe- 
 rilled his life to preserve them, and that the earl 
 could soon replace his credentials. Claude moreover, 
 was of a merry, hopeful nature, and troubled himself 
 little with the dark side of things. 
 
 The wind continued very changeable and capri- 
 cious, but Edwards's skill seized advantage from 
 every favourable shift, and on the evening of the 
 second day they were in sight of the French coast. 
 The sky and the sea mirrored each other's calmness, 
 and were both of a clear deep blue. Calais arose 
 every instant more distinctly, with its grim waUs 
 firowning on the edge of the waters. It was not
 
 112 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 Edwards's intention to land tliem at tlie town, 
 wliither, on account of tlie war, lie dared not ap- 
 proach ; but he hoisted a Dutch flag, although there 
 was no vessel in sight, and lay off the coast until 
 sunset. A very brilliant moonHght succeeded, and 
 then the captain steered towards a low headland 
 some leagues to the west of Calais. Every rock 
 and breaker of the coast was as famihar to him as 
 his fields to a villager; but he waited for several 
 hours in expectation of some signal from the shore. 
 Claude at last observed a bright green rocket shoot 
 from a projecting rock, which was answered by the 
 display of a red lamp on their mast-head, when he 
 was informed by the captain that the time had ar- 
 riA^ed to attempt a debarkation, and the two pas- 
 sengers, himself, and a few seamen, got into the 
 jolly-boat. 
 
 The tide was out, and the sea breaking in a 
 mournful murmur on the green rocks which Hned 
 the shore, beneath chalky cHffs of gTeat height. 
 The boats stranded on the shallow reefs very soon, 
 and they were obhged to walk and jump over the 
 sHppery rocks, until they reached what appeared to 
 be a hole in the chff, scarce large enough to admit 
 a single man. Guided, however, by Edwards,
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 113 
 
 they crawled one after the other in, and soon found 
 the hole widen into a spacious sort of passage, 
 formed in the chalk, which terminated, to Claude's 
 great surprise, in a cottage belonging to a fisherman 
 in league with the smugglers. This man and his 
 family received Claude with unboimded kindness, 
 both as being recommended by Edwards, and being 
 of Norman blood, and they readily agreed to do 
 every thing necessary to expedite him on his journey. 
 The captain only staid to drink a cup of brandy, 
 and to exchange a hearty farewell with Claude and 
 little Mervyn, whom he kissed and hugged most 
 affectionately, and then retm-ned to liis vessel. 
 
 The next day beheld our travellers on their way 
 to Saint Omer, well mounted and armed, though 
 without a passport, Mervyn riding deUghtedly be- 
 fore his protector. All these good things were pro ■ 
 cured by a Hberal outlay of Claude's doubloons, 
 but he dared not apply for a passport, lest inquiry 
 should be raised. The news of the great fire was 
 abeady the universal topic in Calais, and Claude 
 desired no questioning on the subject; and as the 
 police of those days was by no means strict, he 
 easily crossed the frontier, and entered Flanders — 
 which was still an appanage of the house of Austria. 
 TOL. I. I
 
 114 CHAELES THE SECOND. 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 CAPTAIN GATES. 
 
 It was a fine briglit morning, and botli travellers 
 were deliglited to be once more on terra Jirma; but 
 towards noonday the beat grew so oppressive, tliat 
 Claude found it necessary to seek sbelter for a time. 
 The road was skirted on botli sides by very rich 
 meadows, and shaded b}^ broad oaks and chestnuts; 
 and as he had taken the precaution to fill his saddle- 
 bags with such viands as he had deemed good for a 
 journey, he thought they might as well alight and 
 satisfy their appetites, in a pleasant rural way, under 
 the trees. Pie dismounted, therefore, and turned his 
 horse loose among the green herbage ; then hearing
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 115 
 
 the babbling of a stream at hand, he penetrated a 
 woody ravine on his left, to seek its cool waters. He 
 had not advanced many yards, however, ere he en- 
 countered a bony Rosinante of a horse, tied by the 
 leg to a crab-tree, and browsing with famished 
 eagerness. This made him look forward with some 
 anxiety, and he perceived a man stretched, either 
 dead or asleep, on the grass. A few steps farther, 
 and the deep nasal snore which greeted him, showed 
 that the latter was the case. 
 
 Duval hesitated as to whether he should retu*e 
 quietly, or take the society which chance offered. 
 He had all a Frenchman's hking for chatter, but on 
 the whole the stranger did not exactly please him. 
 He was of a low, square-set, ill-built form — his neck 
 short and thick, his arms disproportionately long, 
 and terminated by large bony hands. His visage 
 and featiires were of a peculiar cast, for the mouth 
 was in the centre of the face, and the disproportion- 
 ate length of the cliin gave liim the look of a 
 baboon. Tliis natural ughness, aided by an expres- 
 sion of low cunning, wliich the features preserved 
 even in sleep, made it one of the most disagreeable 
 faces Claude had ever seen. 
 
 The man was di*essed in a suit of dilapidated re- 
 I2
 
 116 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 gimentals, such as were worn by tlie old guard of 
 Cromwell, and armed witli sword and pistols. A 
 dirty leather wallet lay near him, and the rehcs of a 
 banquet, consisting of very coarse esculents, were 
 scattered about; also a grey-hen, or stone bottle, 
 which had contained some sort of strong Hquor. 
 
 On the whole Claude thought he would leave the 
 stranger to his slumbers; but it was no longer pos- 
 sible; Mervyn, led by instinctive dishke, lifted a 
 clod, and threw it on the stranger's face. He awoke 
 with a start and a confused curse, and looked around 
 with a pair of small, vicious, pig-eyes, whose ex- 
 pression of alarm almost made Claude laugh. But 
 he civilly explained his purpose in French, and told 
 the stranger that, if it would not interrupt him, he 
 and his little boy would take their dinner in the 
 shade of the fine trees around. 
 
 "I understand no French,"" said the other dog- 
 gedly, and in a very coarse voice. " But if you 
 know any tiling of Aunglish, speak out, and I'll do 
 what I can conscientiously to pleasure ye." 
 
 Claude repeated his apology in English, and the 
 stranger having muttered his acquiescence, Claude 
 quietly proceeded to open his larder, consisting of
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 117 
 
 part of a liaiincli of venison, and a little keg of tlie 
 finest brandy, a parting present from his friend, tlie 
 smuggler. Observing that bis new companion viewed 
 these preparations not without emotion, Claude in- 
 vited him to partake, and soon found that whatever 
 he had eaten pre\4ously, he had left off with a com- 
 petent appetite. He drank in proportion, and soon 
 grew very talkative- 
 
 The fire of London was of course the first topic. 
 The stranger had heard nothing of it, but he Hs- 
 tened with great interest to Claude's details, inter- 
 spersing the narrative with oaths and ejaculations of 
 wonder, and testifying great satisfaction on learning 
 that the catholics were considered or suspected as 
 the authors of this vast ruin. 
 
 ** And what do men say of this paupistical Duke 
 of Yoarck?" he said in his broad manner. " Do 
 they not consider he is at the boattem — the snake 
 coiled at the root of all this ofience? 'SHfe, I war- 
 rant him, he would burn one half of Aungland to 
 make the other a dunghill of damnable paupishtry !' 
 
 " I cannot say I think the duke hath any hand 
 in it," replied Claude, " which were methinks as if 
 a man set fire to his own corn to dry it." 
 
 " Then without doubt, it is the Jesuits," said the
 
 118 CHAELES THE SECOND. 
 
 sfranger, accepting witli a nod tlie brandy-bottle 
 wliicli Claude offered. 
 
 " Pritbee, master," said Duval, somewbat sbarplj, 
 " speak not so disrespectfully of tbose Cbristian 
 fatbers — we are not now in England." 
 
 " Heaven be praised for tbat same !^' replied tlie 
 stranger; " for of all tbe accursed places on earth 
 for an bonest man to Kve in — 'slife ! a man bad better 
 be a dog in any otber country !" 
 
 *' You bave been in tbe army, sir, I presmne, 
 from your attire?" said Claude, inquiringly. 
 
 " Ay, ay, in two armies, tbose of God and tbose 
 of man," repHed tbe gentleman. ' ' But virtue makes 
 enemies wberever it goes, and mine got me kicked 
 out of botb services. You may bave beard of me — 
 my name's Oates — Captain Gates." 
 
 '■'• Faitb, I bave beard of one parson Gates, wbo 
 was cbaplain on board a man of war, and narrowly 
 escaped tbe gallows for practices wbicb — " 
 
 " Yes, sir, I am tbat most injured man; tbe vic- 
 tim of a foul ploat," interrupted tbe stranger, coolly 
 supping bis brandy, tbougb tbe practices alluded 
 to were certainly sucb as migbt bave brougbt a blush 
 to tbe devil's own cheek. " Tbe captain and bis 
 boocanier crew of reprobates could not bear the
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 119 
 
 wholesome boldness of my holding forth and preach- 
 ing of the word, wherein I indeed resembled a glo- 
 rified saint preaching to Lucifer and his fiends ; 
 and so they trumped up that he which, when the 
 day comes, will damn them all to the lowest depth 
 of the bottomless abyss ! But they were obHged to 
 avouch my ung-uiltiness before the commission." 
 
 " What scandalous tongues men have I" exclaimed 
 Claude. '• I did hear that parson Gates was only 
 saved from dangling at the yard-arm by tenderness 
 to his cloth, and that he was dismissed the service 
 with every possible dishonour and shame." 
 
 " I would I could hear the man that durst say so 
 to my face !" said the other, colouring in spite of the 
 habitual brassiness of his complexion. " But to 
 prove mine innocence, I may tell you I was received 
 with joy into the army, and by my great courage 
 and massacring of the popish rebels in Ireland, I was 
 made a captain in my company." 
 
 " And was there some new conspiracy?" said 
 Claude. 
 
 " Troth, no, but my preenciples were well-known, 
 and being good, protestant, and honest, the Duke 
 of York took some sudden occasion to break me,*
 
 J20 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 xeplied the captain. " Some of my men took it into 
 their villanous skulls to plunder and murder some 
 family or other in the wild popish country of Car- 
 rickfergus, and I was made responsible — ^that's all." 
 " And wliither do your bad fortunes lead you 
 now, Mr. Oates?" said Claude. 
 
 " Nay, faith, I have left my old floundering guide, 
 honesty, beliind, and hope to thrive for the loss," 
 said Oates, smiling grimly. " I am on my way to 
 Pauris, where I mean to enter the French king's 
 sarvice ; I hear he needs resolute fellows to carry on 
 his war against these marsh- waddlers of Dutchmen." 
 " But will not your religious principles be against 
 you, Mr. Oates? You are doubtless one of the inde- 
 pendent leaven which Cromwell left in the king's 
 cake?" said Duval. 
 
 " 'Shfe, I'd be a Turk or worship a brazen calf 
 for that matter," exclaimed the captain, Avho was 
 evidently elated with his brandy. " I don't believe 
 one word of all those old trumperies ; the devil take 
 me if I care for him ! Oh, no, we understand all that 
 sort of thing now ! all hypocrisy and state-tricks ! 
 I am not to be bamboozled with a white up-tumed 
 eye and a wliining twang of the gullet I I was a par-
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 121 
 
 son myself once, and know tliat it's all tom-fooleiy, 
 fal-de-ralla ! Did ye ever hear of a quack taking his 
 own nostrum? — ha, ha, ha P' 
 
 The captain continued rattling on in this strain for 
 some time; but Claude was rather annoyed than 
 amused by the blasphemies and unseemly anecdotes 
 of his accidental acquaintance, and though by no 
 means very starched in his own principles, he was 
 almost appalled by those of Captain Oates. As their 
 potations deepened, however, each grew more and 
 more confidential, and Claude could not forbear let- 
 ting some expressions faU which excited the curiosity 
 of his companion. 
 
 " Ye say the young kid is yours. Master Dooval?" 
 said the captain. " And as ye can't aducate him to 
 your mind in Aungland, ye are taking him to those 
 venerable men at — where did you say?" 
 
 " Saint Omer," repHed Claude. 
 
 *' But I have a papa in England, who is a grand 
 gentleman," said Mervyn, " only he hves in such a 
 dark, big house, close by the water !" 
 
 " Any?" rephed the captain, with a suspicious 
 glance at Duval, who smiled and patted his lip T^dth 
 Lis forefinger. 
 
 ** I comprehend — I comprehend," continued Oates.
 
 122 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 " The old one is in pound, and this young one is to 
 be driven out of the wolf's way. Varry good ! — 
 poor lamb ! I take an interest in his behalf, Mr. 
 Claude; 'tis a fair cliild, varry fair, and even as 
 Rauchel mourned over her fruit, calling him Icha- 
 bod, Avliich means in the vernacular, Our Glory is 
 departed, even so I — but you say you were robbed, 
 robbed in the great fire, Mr. Claude ? How in the 
 woorld (not to ask impertinent questions) do you 
 mean to sret on amono* the Jesuitical rosiies without 
 money?" 
 
 " Oh, they did not scrape me clean out ; I had a fat 
 purse in my doublet, though they stole my cloak," 
 replied Claude, proudly. 
 
 " Well, well, I hope no offence," said Oates; " all 
 I mean to say is, I have abeady told you I am no 
 cant; I doant care about making any of your long 
 hobbledy speeches about faith, hope, and charity, 
 which are but the stock in trade of hypocrisy and 
 your soul-dealers; if I had, I might have been a 
 sleek evans^ehcal of a roa^ue still. But this I will 
 say — in short, if you want money, Mr. Dooval, to 
 take the poor little wretch to a safe place, here's my 
 purse, and ye're as welcome to dip your hand in it 
 as my own brother."
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 123 
 
 And so saying, Gates drew out a long red silk 
 purse, whicli seemed, from the cliink and glitter 
 witliin, to be tolerably well lined. 
 
 " If I wanted it, captain, you sliould be my Jew 
 among a dozen— but see if I do," said Claude, pro- 
 ducing his little bag of moidores, and tossing it 
 somewhat ostentatiously in the air, it fell with a 
 massive jingle. The stranger's whole countenance 
 brightened, and he had some difficulty to suppress 
 the chuckle which involuntarily mounted to his 
 throat. 
 
 *' The Loord knows, it is well for us the popish 
 hounds in these parts have no reason from our ap- 
 pearance to suspect us of such riches," said he, re- 
 placing his piu-se very carefully. " They say these 
 marshes of St. Omer are haimted by all manner 
 of vagabond robbers and thieves, that fear neither 
 Goad nor man ; indeed I doubted strongly whether 
 I should go on or spend the night in the next vil- 
 lage, but for your company." 
 
 " So you're traveUing to St. Omer too?" said 
 Duval, though not without a moment's suspicion. 
 
 " Yes, sooth, I have diverged from my direct 
 route of Paris, to visit the poor scattered remnant 
 still left there by the merciless councils of the un-»
 
 124 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 godly paupistical Ahasuerus on the throne of 
 France," rephed Gates, 
 
 Claude glanced at the short uncomely figure be- 
 fore him, and contrasting it mentally with his own 
 fine athletic person, consented to the arrangement. 
 They continued their conversation for some little 
 time longer, till Claude observing the trees shot 
 with a deep crimson, admonished his companion 
 that it was time to mount and resume their journey. 
 
 The travellers were soon again on the road, a 
 wild looking horse-path traversing the heart of a 
 deep forest ; and Gates had some difficulty in making 
 his bony hack keep pace w^ith Claude's good steed; 
 but the latter, as if from pohteness, took care to 
 keep his companion abreast, and never suffered him 
 to get in the rear. 
 
 The conversation was such as the gloomy scenery 
 around naturally excited, and the robberies, murders, 
 and various acts of violence exercised on the road 
 they were traversing, of course formed the staple. 
 Gates pretended to laugh at these stories, but the 
 numerous black crosses skirting the road, each the 
 memento of some act of barbarity, argued well on 
 the other side. From this topic he launched into a 
 dissertation on weapons, and boasted his own to be
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 125 
 
 the best ever made. To back tliis assertion lie 
 handed bis pistols to Claude, wbo remarked with a 
 slight smile at liis own inward thoughts, that they 
 were not loaded. He handed them back with a 
 great increase of confidence, and the dialogue became 
 once more free and cheerful. Oates, in his turn, ad- 
 mired his fellow-traveller's defensive gear, and asked 
 permission to examine the temper of his sword. 
 Claude very readily drew the blade, and flashing it 
 round his head, handed it to the captain, who, ap- 
 parently by accident, let it fall. Oates made as if 
 he would have dismounted to pick it up, but Claude 
 with thoughtless pohteness insisted that it was his 
 fault, and flinging the reins to his companion, leaped 
 to the ground, leaving httle Merv3m on the horse. 
 
 Tlie point which our travellers had now reached, 
 was the descent of a hill covered by the forest they 
 were traversing, and which commanded an extensive 
 view of a sloping woodland, terminated by the wide 
 marshes of St. Omer. The sun was nigh the ho- 
 rizon, but the whole west still glowed with exqui- 
 site colours, darkly reflected in the watery moors 
 which spread in wide desolation beyond. Not a 
 li\TLng thing, no human dweUing-place, was visible 
 for many miles round ; only a few wild fowl fluttered
 
 126 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 over tlie pools and reedy islets of the marslies, and 
 the towers of the abbey of Clairvaux gleamed in 
 the distanee. To the far east indeed the eye could 
 discern the walls and pyramidal steeples of St. 
 Omer, rising on an eminence which terminated the 
 view, but distant several leagues. It was a spot 
 well-suited by its sohtude for the commission of 
 deeds of treachery and assassination, and the thought 
 occurred to Claude almost as he stooped to lift the 
 sword. An exclamation of the child, and a slight 
 start of liis horse, induced him to spring up sud- 
 denly — ^but it was too late. The captain had seized 
 the pistols from his holsters almost as he leaped 
 down, and now presenting them at their owner's head, 
 very coolly invited him to give up his purse, or pre- 
 pare to have his brains scattered among the trees. 
 
 Claude was startled, but after the first moment 
 of surprise he began laughing, as if it were a joke. 
 
 *' Come, sir, none of your horse-grinning at me !" 
 exclaimed the captain, fiercely. "I tell you, you 
 are a fool and in my power — I am a gentleman of the 
 road. Your money or your Hfe !" 
 
 ' Morbleu ! — and is it possible you are in ear- 
 nest?" said Claude, with imperturbable serenity. 
 
 " Never more so," returned the captain. " I don't
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 127 
 
 want to redden a bullet in you if I can lielp it, but 
 you must be quick and make your election." 
 
 " Never fear," replied Claude, mtli unruffled 
 composure. " Do your worst — fire away! — tlie 
 pistols are not loaded. Do you think I was so 
 young as to trust a gentleman of your appearance 
 and conversation? I did but tempt you to disco- 
 ver your real character — and liere it is ! — the balls 
 are drawn." 
 
 The captain glanced for a moment at Duval, with 
 a mixture of doubt and fear in his "vdllanous eye, 
 still levelling the pistols ; but the unalterable cool- 
 ness of Claude's manner produced its effect. He 
 burst into a laugh, and quietly poking the pistols 
 back into the holsters, exclaimed, " Egad, a young 
 fellow of infinite courage ! Loord help us I and did 
 you really think me in earnest, companion?" 
 
 " Faith, and I should have found you in earnest 
 too, had I not been of better nerve than thou art, 
 villain," said Duval, clutching his pistols eagerly. 
 *' I see thou art one of those dastardly murderers 
 that do entrap men to their ruin with caresses, Hke 
 that Judas who is your patron fiend. The pistols 
 are loaded, and for a proof here is a ball through 
 your hat; the next shall be hrough your head, if
 
 128 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 you refuse in your turn to surrender tliat goodly 
 red purse, whicli I will bestow in charity." 
 
 Suiting tlie action to tlie w^ord, he fired, and was 
 somewhat surprised, knowing that he had only 
 carried off Oates's ragged feather, to see him fall to 
 the ground, as if shot dead. After pacifying his 
 restive horse, which began rearing and nearly threw 
 little Mervyn, Claude turned to the fallen highway- 
 man, and giving him an energetic kick, called upon 
 him to rise. The wretch, however, had the beetle's 
 instinct, and feigned to be either dead or insensible. 
 
 For a moment, Claude hesitated as to the pro- 
 priety of effectually disabling him from further 
 wickedness ; but a natural aversion to violence, and 
 even loathing of the treacherous villain, determined 
 him to spare his life. Convinced, however, that he 
 had no rightful claim to the property in liis posses- 
 sion, Claude ransacked liis pockets with great dili- 
 gence. He found some gold and jewels of consi- 
 derable value in his breast, and the red purse; there 
 was also a long knife, and a knotted handkerchief 
 stained with blood, which Claude had no doubt, 
 had recently done yeoman's service. He also found 
 a leaf torn out of an old London Gazette in which 
 he read an exact description of the captain's person,
 
 CHAKLES THE SECOND. 129 
 
 and a reward of twenty guineas offered for liis ap- 
 prehension, on a charge of swindling some trades- 
 men. 
 
 Claude very kindly left him this certificate of 
 respectabihty, and mused for some moments, as to 
 what he should do with liis captive. He finally 
 determined on tyins: him hands and feet, and leaving- 
 liim to the compassion of any good Samaritan, 
 who might be tempted by the reward to take him 
 into custody — a plan wliich was no sooner thought 
 of than adopted — infinitely to httle Mervyn's 
 amusement. 
 
 The captain only groaned once as Claude kicked 
 him over. Then having broken the flints of Oates's 
 pistols, thrown them into a ditch, and let his Rosi- 
 nante loose to feed on the rank grass, Claude re- 
 mounted, and galloped off at a good speed. 
 
 The sunset was rapidly fading into a bright silvery 
 night, when Claude entered the ancient Flemish 
 city. The toils of the day were over, and a gay 
 population filled the streets. It was the ghttering 
 era of the grand monarque, and besides, it was 
 evidently a fete-^j in Saint Omer. There were 
 bonfires in the streets, the shrines were decorated 
 with flowers and lamps ; short petticoats and gaudy 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 CHAKLES THE SECOND. 
 
 caps appeared on lightsome forms at every turn; 
 blue and red stockings were tlie only wear. The 
 peasant-girls' wooden clogs were painted all sorts 
 of pretty colours, and their smart garters hung 
 roguishly down to their ankles. Dancing was 
 going on in every open space, and Claude heard 
 no sounds but those of music and laughter. 
 
 Inquiring of one of the merrimakers the way 
 to the Jesuits' college, he was readily directed, and 
 shortly found himself in front of the antique and 
 massive edifice — the forge of the Romish church's 
 chief thunderbolts in that day.
 
 CHARLES THE SECO^'D. 131 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE JESUITS. 
 
 The Jesuits seemed to sliare the public hilarity 
 of the day, for their convent gates were open, and 
 the good brothers were engaged in distributing wine, 
 cakes, and curdled milk to all who chose to partake — 
 not to mention sprigs of holy rosemary, good against 
 charms, storms, and the headach, they having been 
 blessed by the sovereign pontiff liimself 
 
 Duval inquired of a girl, who was arranging her 
 hair after the dance, for the Reverend General de 
 OHva, who he had heard was on a visitation to the 
 college. Tlie girl pointed to a chestnut-tree of ex- 
 traordinary luxuriance, just before the college gates, 
 k2
 
 132 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 whose foliage, tinged ■w4th the scarlet-brown hues 
 of autumn, formed a sort of hanging tent almost to 
 the ground. Beneath this was a bench of twisted 
 branches, and a rustic table spread with fruit and 
 wine, at which sat an old but still ^dgorous man, in 
 the Jesuit garb, and several gentlemen of the pro- 
 vince — probably of high rank, from the richness of 
 their dress. 
 
 The general himself wore a pm-ple cross woven 
 in his habit, and a rosary of golden beads. His 
 features, though somewhat harsh and saturnine by 
 nature, were subdued almost to beauty, by a mild 
 and noble expression of genius and goodness. Tliere 
 were times indeed, when an indescribable something 
 in the eye, a pecuHar tone of the voice, or an un- 
 guarded gesture, showed tliat it was not apathy, but 
 subdued passions, which gave him that gTacious se- 
 renity. At this moment, however, the padre seemed 
 absorbed in enjoyment of the merry scene before 
 him, smiling and bestowing his blessing on the 
 happy peasants as they crowded to offer him nose- 
 gays of sweet flowers and reverential homage. — 
 Among these sprightly masses Claude Duval made 
 his way very deftly, elbowing the men, and handing 
 the girls aside.
 
 CHAHLES THE SECOND. 133 
 
 "Wliat man is tliis, or rather what peacock?" 
 said the general, turning with a smile to his com^ 
 panions. 
 
 ^' From his flaunting livery he should be of Pro- 
 vence, where the hot sun makes them dote on rich 
 colours," said one of the addressed. " But methinks 
 he is courteous as a new noble shuffling his way to 
 the throne through men whose patents date from 
 Charlemagne." 
 
 " And mine dates earlier, monsieur," said Claude, 
 bowing reverently. " The Duvals came in with 
 EoUo, and though our family is somewhat reduced, 
 we stiU keep our pretensions to half Calvados, with 
 absolute possession of some seven acres. Most re- 
 verend father, your blessing on this Httle traveller 
 and myself." And he knelt at the general's feet. 
 
 " Who and what art thou, son, that thy introduc- 
 tion is so brief ?" said the Jesuit. " And above all, 
 what fair child is this?" 
 
 " My name is Claude Duval, servant of the most 
 noble Lord Aumerle," repHed the traveller. " The 
 child is — is one whom Providence and his unhappy 
 father commend to your holy protection." 
 
 u jjQ^y — Lqi.(_| Aumerle I Explain yourself, son !"
 
 134 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 said the Jesuit, vatli a keen and almost startled glance 
 at the boy. 
 
 *' I cannot before witnesses, even so noble as these 
 Elemish gentlemen," replied Claude. " Messieurs, 
 excuse me ; every thing I say or do is trammelled "vvitli 
 an oath. But that your reverend lordship may not 
 suspect my intelligence of no worth, I would whisper 
 a word in your ear." 
 
 This w^ord, whatever it was, seemed to produce 
 a cabalistical effect. The general entreated his 
 guests to pardon him, and rose as if to retire; but 
 one of the principal among them stopped him. 
 " Nay, father, we will dance awhile with these 
 pretty rustics," he said. "We know the import- 
 ance of news from England at this juncture; and 
 afterwards, if it please you, I would fain interrogate 
 the gentleman, upon the fearful fire which has made 
 London a heap of ashes." 
 
 Claude bowed, and after a slio-ht remonstrance 
 from de Oliva, the gentlemen retired, and mingled 
 with the rural dancers, among whom their ghtter- 
 ing garbs and superior elegance seemed the only 
 distinctions they assumed. 
 
 •' And now thy business ? — from the earl ? is he
 
 CHARLES THE SECOXD. 135 
 
 still in the Tower ?" exclaimed tlie Jesuit, eagerly. 
 "Alas! how the world changes! He was of my 
 best-loved friends.*' 
 
 " To begin then, my lord, I have lost all my 
 credentials, papers, jewels, dociunents — I know not 
 what — from my master to your reverend lordship," 
 said Claude. 
 
 "A brief confession — how and when ?" said de 
 Oliva, a shade of suspicion crossing liis brow. 
 
 " At the great fire," said Claude. "But it will 
 take me some good half-houj: to explain all fully, 
 when I shall not appear blamable in your lord- 
 sliip's sight. Meanwhile do you receive no as^ 
 surance from the cliild's aspect ?" 
 
 " Is this, then, the young disinherited, Aumerle's 
 doubtful son, whom his last letters taught me to 
 expect ?" said the Jesuit, anxiously. 
 
 "Look on him, sir! doth not the grape flavour 
 of the \'ine ?" 
 
 " Certes, he much resembles my unhappy friend 
 — but your story ?" said de Ohva, extending his 
 hand to the child. " Come liither, son ! Alas ! but 
 his beauty partakes much of liis bad mother's most 
 exquisite perfection. Well, your storv?"
 
 136 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 '^ Beseecli you, pardon if I first moisten my dust- 
 choked lungs in a goblet of wine," said Claude, 
 very coolly filling liimself a tankard. 
 
 Tlie padre assented with a smile, and Claude 
 swallowed a hearty draught, taking care to leave a 
 few bright drops for Mervyn, who seemed to taste 
 it with infinite rehsh. He then began, as he had 
 promised, with a circumstantial narrative of those 
 particulars with wliich the reader is acquainted, 
 from liis interview with Aumerle in the Tower to 
 liis arrival at Calais. But he did not seem to think 
 it necessary to mention liis recent afiair with the 
 highwayman. 
 
 The Jesuit listened with deep attention, casting 
 frequent glances of compassion at Mervyn ; and 
 when Claude concluded his narrative, the general 
 sat for some minutes in revery ; then smoothening 
 the boy's fair locks, he sighed deeply. 
 
 *' Your tale needs no vouchers, Duval," he said, 
 at last. " But the loss of all those precious docu- 
 ments — and in such hands — is indeed grievous. 
 What if the infuriate parhament and populace 
 should glut themselves in the earl's blood — no proof, 
 no testimonies remain in our hands."
 
 CHAKLES THE SECOND. 137 
 
 *' It sliall be remedied when I return to my lord; 
 which I purpose instantly, if your reverence accept 
 the charge I have brought," said Claude. 
 
 "I do, as if directly tendered me by Heaven!" 
 said the Jesuit. " God have mercy on that cruel 
 woman ! I did ever warn the earl that — methinks 
 I may trust thee, Claude ?" 
 
 '* With anything but a pretty girl," said Claude. 
 
 " Or a goblet of wine," added the Jesuit, smiHng 
 thoughtfully. '^ Well, it matters not — yet me- 
 thinks this whole afiair is stranger than aught that 
 ever I saw or read, though in my young days I 
 was fond of the ^vild romances of tliis besotted age. 
 You are bound to secrecy, Claude ?" 
 
 " By so many oaths that purgatory would be too 
 good for me if I broke one," said the traveller. 
 
 " I married them at Bruges, during the king's 
 exile ; and what a change is this !" continued the 
 padre, musingly. " Poor Aumerle ! — and for such 
 a profligate flaunter and midnight wassailer as 
 Howard was thy noble heart betrayed !" 
 
 " And my answer to his lordship ?" said Claude, 
 earnestly. 
 
 *' The earl desired me to return only verbal an- 
 swers to his messages," rephed de OHva. " The
 
 138 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 care wlilcli lie commits to me and to my holy 
 order is indeed frauglit with awful responsibility. 
 Tell him, I accept it with fear and trembling. As- 
 siure him, in my name, that all his desires shall be 
 fuliilled to the very letter. I would fain write liim 
 a few words of consolation, but that I perceive it 
 may compromise him with his bloodthirsty ene- 
 mies if he is discovered in secret correspondence 
 ■vvith a poor servant of the church." 
 
 "Your reverend lordship promises then never by 
 word or deed to give this young child any inkling 
 of his true cpahty and birth, unless desired by the 
 earl himself ?" 
 
 "So may Heaven help me in my need!" said 
 the padre, solemnly. " I much fear, Claude, that 
 the time is nigh when the knowledge of either 
 would only prove the poor orphan's ruin." 
 
 " Alas ! my lord, and I do grievously fear the 
 same," said Duval. " However that may be, and 
 though I have lost the moneys which my lord sent 
 to you for charitable purposes, I doubt not to re- 
 turn with such documents as shall convince you 
 that I am in no way an impostor." 
 
 " I do not suspect thee, friend," said de Oliva, 
 with a smile. " And in fine I accept yom* charge,
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 139 
 
 SO now you may join these revellers awliile, for I 
 see you are a jovial companion.'^ 
 
 Duval reverently thanked the general, and was 
 going to leave the boy with his new protector, while 
 he joined the meny company on the green. But 
 Mervyn leaped upon his neck, and clung to him 
 with loud screams. The padre arose and tried for 
 some moments to soothe him with promises and 
 caresses, but the child was not to be pacified, and 
 seemed rather terrified than allured by the Jesuit's 
 foreign-sounding English, though couched in such 
 soft phrase as "dear leetleboyl — chiquito de mis 
 entranas !" 
 
 " Well, take him with you — he will weary anon," 
 said he, at last. " He has a character at least— here 
 are two traits — obstinacy and affection. When his 
 little lids begin to droop, return with him to the 
 college ; we are not much used to the management 
 of such nursery-scholars, but old Ambrose, a lay- 
 brother, will readily take charge of liim." 
 
 Claude withdrew with a lightened heart to 
 join the revellers, among whom he soon estabhshed 
 himself as a general favourite. Independently of his 
 splendid livery, dashing manners, and devil-may- 
 care style of conversation, he danced to admira-
 
 140 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 tion, gossiped witli the old women, and talked soft 
 nonsense -vvitli the young. His presence revived the 
 festival, which was beginning to flag, and a moon- 
 light of surpassing briUiancy had supphed the place 
 of the sun. Jokes were cracked, healths drunk, 
 songs sung, and merry games played, till old and 
 young were all alive with gaiety. The favourite 
 but now antiquated sport — the beloved revelry of 
 the Norman peasantry, and of old England too, be- 
 fore misery and manufactures had worn the hfe-blood 
 out of her hearty and gallant commons — Kiss in the 
 Ring — was proposed by Claude, and carried by ac- 
 clamation of the young men, and faint " nays" from 
 the tittering lasses. And a mirthful sight it was to 
 see them all standing in a vast ring, maid and ba- 
 chelor, blooming and blushing and giggHng, hke 
 grown-up fairies, beneath the sweet moonlight and 
 chequered shade of the venerable trees. The pic- 
 turesque peasant dress of the period; the parti- 
 coloured petticoat, Httle roguish bodice, and gaudy 
 caps of the women ; the gay nether garments of the 
 men, their long dangHng garters, and crimson sack 
 caps, made as pretty a grouping as the most expert 
 ballet-master could contrive. 
 
 The good fathers of the convent (for so they were
 
 CHABLES THE SECOND. 141 
 
 considered by tlie people of Saint Omer, wliatever 
 tlie affriglited puritans of England and the Jansen- 
 ists of France might hold them) looked on with en- 
 couragement and even pleasure; men whose pens 
 were foremost in the fierce controversies of the time, 
 and whose persons were engaged in its most perilous 
 intrigues, seemed to refresh their study-worn souls 
 with this exhibition of natural and hearty feehng. 
 At the same time their presence produced a salutary 
 effect, in restraining any tendency to intemperance 
 or quarrel, to which indeed the phlegmatic people 
 of Flanders were but little addicted. 
 
 De Oliva liimself remarked with a smile that 
 Duval obtained by far the greatest number of crowns, 
 to the vexation of his compeers; but liis perpetual 
 good-nature, and evident courage, kept liim clear of 
 downright quarrels. Tlie Jesuit observed also, but 
 with deeper attention, the young boy who had been 
 so singularly intrusted to his charge. To his sur- 
 prise Mervyn, young as he was, seemed bent on 
 sharing all the joUities and pranks afoot, imitating 
 Duval with a fidelity astonishing in one so green of 
 years. He danced, ran about kissing the little pea- 
 sant girls^ sipped wine, and made the old men shake 
 with laughter at the gallant style in. which he sang a
 
 142 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 little Englisli song. But at last the urcliin fell asleep 
 in tlie arms of an old woman, wliom lie persisted in 
 calling " nurse Alice," and de Oliva ordered lier to 
 take the cliild into the college, and dehver it to the 
 care of the lay-brother appointed to the office. The 
 great bell of the convent soon after tolled, and 
 the good meeting was broken up. 
 
 Claude found a straw pallet prepared for him near 
 another for Mervyn, in an apartment plainly but 
 substantially furnished. Relieved of the heavy re- 
 sponsibility which had pressed upon him, he cheer- 
 fully commended himself to the Virgin, and was 
 soon in a deep slumber. 
 
 In the morning, Mervyn was sent for to break- 
 fast with the padre himself, while Claude was 
 handed over to the care of the lay -brothers in the 
 refectory. These personages appeared in some little 
 commotion, and Claude learned that the movement 
 was caused by the return of Van Huysman, rector 
 of the college, a man of great severity in discipline. 
 He had been in England, superintending some 
 affairs of the order ; but as he travelled in the apos- 
 tolic fashion, with scrip and sandals, the commu- 
 nity were kept on the alert as to his return. 
 
 Claude was earnestly engaged with his bread and
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 143 
 
 fruit, when a brother arnved to summon liim to the 
 general's presence. On entering the apartment, his 
 eye was directed on the newly-anived rector. His 
 figure was remarkable for its great height, and the 
 majestic shape of his shoulders and head, but he 
 was lean and bony to the last degree. His face 
 seemed macerated by constant fasting, but the ex- 
 pression was large, severe, and commanding, espe- 
 cially when liis sunken eye Hghted up as it Avas 
 wont when earnestly engaged. An habitual stoop, 
 caused by weakness or constant study, somewhat 
 detracted from his stature, but gave a kind of devout 
 meekness to the natural austerity of his figure. 
 
 A glance around convinced Claude that some- 
 tliing momentous had occurred. The padre looked 
 pale, and his Hp quivered -^dtli nervous agitation ; 
 ihe rector liimself seemed troubled; only httle 
 Mei-vyn was quite at his ease, supping bread and 
 milk. Tlie padre's first words were ominous. 
 
 "It is unnecessary for you to hurry yourself, 
 Duval, on your return to England," he said. " My 
 friend, and yom' unfortunate lord, is no more; he 
 committed suicide in the Tower on the night of the 
 fire." 
 
 Claude stood for a moment thunderstruck, and
 
 144 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 then exclaiming: " Holy saints ! — I dreaded tliis !— 
 my lord is murdered !" sank sobbing into a cliair. 
 
 " Heaven only knows," said the Jesuit, crossing 
 himself. " But vengeance is His, and He will 
 repay !" 
 
 " But is this certain? or is it but a tale afloat among 
 the mad rumours of the day?" exclaimed Claude. 
 
 " Young man, it is but too true," said Van Huys- 
 man, in his calm measured tone. " A jury sat on 
 the earl's body the evening after, but in such con- 
 fusion and tremors, on account of the still raging 
 flames, that little was done. The jury indeed com- 
 plained of the scantiness and perplexity of the evi- 
 dence, but they hastily returned a verdict of felo de 
 se. And so the earl your master was buried, as I 
 myself saw, in a rude grave dug in the Tower ditch 
 — uncofiined, with his cloak for a shroud." 
 
 Claude fairly wept at this dismal recital, and 
 hiding his face in his hands, sobbed for several 
 minutes like a child. Mervyn, unconscious of the 
 share which he himself had in that grief, ran and 
 threw his arms around Claude's neck, and cried 
 for company. A few drops forced themselves to 
 Oliva's eyes too, but the rector looked on with 
 stoical composure — almost with contempt.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 145 
 
 As Claude still persisted that the earl's prediction 
 had come true — that he was murdered and called a 
 suicide — the Jesuits, though they said nothing to 
 Duval, exchanged looks which spoke their con- 
 viction that the prophecy had a foregone conclusion. 
 But when Claude minutely related his adventures 
 with Blood — the inter^-iew in the Tower — and the 
 fierce pursuit he kept up, as if anxious to destroy 
 witnesses whose evidence was so dangerous — Oliva 
 was once more staggered. Van Huysman, however, 
 coldly remarked, that the very circumstance of 
 Blood's nocturnal chase proved an alibi at least in 
 his favour. Still Claude persisted in his behef that 
 this man had murdered his lord, most probably in 
 the time which had elapsed between his rescue by 
 Edwards, and meeting with him again in St. Paul's 
 Churchyard. 
 
 " We will examine what cohesion there may be 
 in your account, with the circumstances that ap- 
 peared on the quest," said Van Huysman. " Here 
 is a copy of the proceedings, extracted from the 
 London Gazetteer. It is short and timid, but not 
 without significance." 
 
 The Jesuit produced a paper printed on a small 
 sheet, in very brown type, and handed it to Claude. 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 The latter, after a glance at Mervyn, who was 
 looking on in innocent wonder, and receiving a nod 
 from Oliva, read tlie article aloud. It was headed : 
 *' Horrid Self-murder of a Popish Lord in the 
 Tower, on the Night of the Outbursting of the 
 Fire," and proceeded in the following style: 
 
 " Tlie monstrous consequences which flow from 
 a devilish rehgion (or rather atheistical pantheism), 
 were fully and most horridly shown in the dismal 
 discovery which was made yesterday morning, ahout 
 foiu" o'clock, A. M., of a bloody self-murder executed 
 hy the Popish Earl d'Aumerle on his own person." 
 Tlien followed a long tirade against the Pope and 
 all the cardinals, who were designated as Antichrist 
 and his devils; against the council of Trent; an 
 eulogium on Luther; and finally, by no very per- 
 ceptible connexion, a brief narrative of the earl's 
 commitment to the Tower. The certainty of his 
 guilt in the matter of the Irish rebellion, was strongly 
 dwelt on, and his melancholy and desperate expres- 
 sions on that occasion were noted. Tlien it was 
 ambiguously hinted that he was aware of the plot 
 of the Jesuits to burn the city, and it was concluded 
 that the audience which he soHcited of his majesty, 
 was for the purpose of revealing that dreadful mys-
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 147 
 
 tery. But the fire breaking out before tlie king 
 could be prevailed upon to see liim, it was gene- 
 rously left to tlie consideration of tlie public, whe- 
 ther remorse, or disappointment at the partial failure 
 of that most dismal plot, had suddenly driven the 
 earl on to his suicide. The Gazetteer professed 
 itself unable to determine, and proceeded to lay the 
 evidence before its readers. 
 
 The principal evidence was that of Talbot Ed- 
 wards, keeper of the regaha. He stated that he 
 served the earl at his supper, and aided to undress 
 liim, about half-past ten. That he left him in bed, 
 but as he went out of the antechamber, heard the 
 earl get up and draw the inner bolt. That he him- 
 self very carefully locked and secured the three doors 
 leading to the stone stairs of the Bloody Tower, and 
 delivered the keys to the lieutenant. That to ob- 
 lige one of the warders, who was on watch at the 
 foot of the stairs, and who was afraid of ghosts, he 
 brought his supper there, and ate it mth him. That 
 they had a beef pasty and three hoops of strong ale ; 
 that afterwards, feeling sleepy, they agreed to watch, 
 turn about, but he did on his troth believe they were 
 once both asleep at the same time. Tliat, however, 
 about a quarter before twelve at night, he was 
 l2
 
 148 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 awakened by a loud report or bang, wlilcli seemed 
 to him like the falling of a door, or of some portion of 
 tbe building. That the warder and he were greatly 
 frightened, and thought to go to the lieutenant and 
 relate what they had heard ; but that they were se- 
 curely fastened in the tower, as was usual. That 
 after listening for some time, and hearing no farther 
 disturbance, they went up the staircase, and knocked 
 at the outer door, calling on the earl. That while 
 there, they heard two deep, and, as they thought, 
 choked groans, followed by extreme silence ; but on 
 making a great uproar at the door, and calling out, 
 " My lord, doth aught ail ye?" a voice, which they 
 took to be the earl's, answered, and said that he 
 was well, only some timbers had fallen in the court- 
 yard. That thereupon they retired, and spent the 
 remainder of the night very wretchedly; thinking 
 it was some spectral sound; that as soon as the watch 
 was relieved, they went to Master Lieutenant and 
 told him what they had heard : who thereupon was 
 much troubled, and came hastily back with them. 
 Tliat they found all the doors firmly locked on the 
 outside, as on the night before, and the earl's bed- 
 room door still fastened on the inside. That having 
 received no answer to repeated calls, IMaster Lieute-
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 149 
 
 nant directed them to break open the door ; and that 
 entering, they found the earl dead in his bed, with 
 a deep wound on his left side, and a pistol, with a 
 spring dagger, lying on the floor. The only addi- 
 tional evidence was that of Sir John Robinson, who 
 merely proved the finding of the body, and the im- 
 possibiHty of any one having had access to the apart- 
 ment. Tlie only suspicious circumstance w^as, that 
 a piece of torn paper, and, some reported, a lock of 
 coarse hair, were found clutched in the dead man's 
 hands. 
 
 To all this strong and apparently conclusive state- 
 ment, Claude had little to object. He saw that both 
 the Jesuits were convinced that the earl had, in the 
 agony of his feehngs, and perhaps stumbHng on the 
 instrument at some opportune moment of despera- 
 tion, committed suicide. He too was staggered by 
 its coherency, but he protested that he would retm-n 
 to England, and dedicate the rest of his Hfe to dis- 
 covering and punishing the murderers. 
 
 " It were matter of notable peril for you to at- 
 tempt," rephed Van Huysman. " This same Ga- 
 zetteer contains an offer of tlrree hundred guineas for 
 your apprehension." 
 
 " For my apprehension !" exclaimed Claude.
 
 150 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 "You are accused of robbery and Scandalum 
 Magnatum," replied the Jesuit, sternly. " Of rob- 
 bery, in having stolen your master's jewels of the 
 garter, and certain sums of money; and of the still 
 graver offence, of giving out that a child, supposed 
 to be your own, is the lawful heir of the titles and 
 estates of the Earl d' Aumerle ; and tliis suit is in- 
 stituted on behalf of his late lordship's wife, now 
 countess in her own right." 
 
 " I did tell your reverend lordship how I lost the 
 jewels. 'Tis a foul conspiracy!" exclaimed Claude, 
 vehemently; " and that this child is my lord's 
 sole and lawful heir, I will maintain with my 
 dagger, in the throat of whoso denies it, be he king 
 or beggar !" 
 
 " I have some private reason to put faith in your 
 story, Duval," said the padre, gently. " But we 
 are destitute of all proof, of all evidence, either of his 
 birth, or of his father's acknowledgment, and this 
 •wicked woman, his mother, has every engine of op- 
 pression at command. At present our sole endeavour 
 must be to keep his existence a secret. If the earl's 
 death occurred as you suppose, they who have im- 
 brued their hands in his father's blood would fain 
 wash away the stain in his. We must go to work
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 151 
 
 cautiously ; we have emissaries in England wlio will 
 make sucli inquiries as are meet. Meanwhile, this 
 child is under my protection, whatever happens." 
 
 Claude bowed, but his heart was too full to speak. 
 
 " And now, brother," said the General, turning 
 to Van Huysman, " you said you had sometliing 
 to relate of your own mishaps?" 
 
 " Rather my good fortunes, father," replied Van 
 Huysman, " since I arrived in time to succour a 
 Christian in distress."
 
 152 CHAT.LES THE SECOND. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE TABLES TURNED. 
 
 Claude's attention, wliicli was somewhat excited 
 "by the observation concluding the last chapter, was 
 fixed when he heard the Jesuit relate how, passing 
 through the forest of Clairvaux, he had Hghted on 
 a man bound hand and foot, and severely ill-treated 
 by robbers. He had freed him, and engaged some 
 labourers to bring him to the college, where he ex- 
 pected him every moment. He added, with a smile, 
 that his Samaritan propensities were quickened by 
 a mishap which had befallen himself, for that he was 
 robbed and almost murdered by some highwaymen 
 in a wood, near Calais, the day before.
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 153 
 
 Claude was somewliat confused on hearing iliis 
 tale, and on finding that the assertions of Captain 
 Gates (for he doubted Kttle it was that worthy) 
 were all taken for granted. It also occurred to liim 
 that from circimistances, it would be extremely diffi- 
 cult to disprove any charge which his late opponent 
 chose to make. He strove, however, to put on an 
 appearance of carelessness, as he asked the particu- 
 lars of the encounter, hesitating in his own mind as 
 to whether he should relate what he liimself knew 
 of the matter. But the equivocal Hght in which he 
 was conscious his character now appeared, and his 
 doubts as to the opinion which those reverend men 
 might have on the propriety of robbing even a rob- 
 ber, restrained him. At all events he determined 
 that he would avow nothing until the necessity be- 
 came evident. Perhaps, after aU, the person found 
 might not be Gates, and to certify himself on this 
 particular, he asked and gained permission to retire. 
 
 Claude, on leaving the college, having observed 
 a blacksmith's forge near the gates of St. Gmer, 
 through which the victim must enter, led his horse 
 there to have liim shod. There was as usual a con- 
 siderable throng of boors and townsfolk assembled in 
 the black stithy, and Claude found that the conver-
 
 154 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 sation was concerning tlie recent robbery, and fatber 
 Van Hujsman's bumanity. Tbe forge was open on 
 all sides, and Claude stood sligbtly apart, wbile tbe 
 huge bra^\Tiy-armed Vulcan performed bis task. He 
 soon, bowever, found tbat be was, for some reason 
 or otber, an object of general disbke or distrust. 
 Tbe men wbispered one anotber, and looked at bim 
 with inauspicious eyes. Tbe centre of this general 
 sensation was a stumpy Httle man, who seemed ac- 
 tively engaged in exchanging suspicions with his 
 neighbours. 
 
 Claude bore this for some tune, till finding tbat 
 tbe matter did not mend, " Why, how now, my 
 masters," be said, " what is this ? You seem afraid 
 of me, as if I had tbe plague in my doublet ; what 
 mean ye ?" 
 
 No answer was returned to this question for some 
 minutes ; tbe men hustled up together, and even tbe 
 smith dropped bis hammer to look up Tvath expec- 
 tation. AU eyes were turned towards tbe old man, 
 who looked embarrassed with tbe responsibility thus 
 cast upon him. 
 
 " Monsieur," he said, at last, with evident reluc- 
 tance, " Excuse us; but you are not, as I tliink, 
 much known in these parts?"
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 155 
 
 " 'Tis very true, and I care not an I were less," 
 replied Claude. " But why do you make tlie re- 
 mark ?" 
 
 " Because — because," muttered tKe peasant, " I — 
 I am the syndic of the town gates, and — and — " 
 
 Tliere was another solemn silence. 
 
 " And what have I to do with the syndic of the 
 town gates, except to wish it may be long ere the 
 keys cease to grace your worship's belt ?" said Claude, 
 
 "Have you a passport, master stranger?" said a 
 burly looking man, whose garb proclaimed him one 
 of the syndic's porters. 
 
 " When I learn by what right you demand to 
 know, I shall be more ready to inform you," said 
 Claude. 
 
 " I, sir ! I am the syndic," rephed the old man, 
 bristling up with importance. 
 
 " I showed my letters to the padre, when I 
 entered the town yesterday, and I do not think 
 it necessary to repeat the operation," said Claude, 
 sharply. 
 
 " Say you so, say you so, my master?" replied 
 the syndic. *' Then by St. Bertin ! we shall find 
 means to make you. My Kfe against a button, gen-
 
 156 CHAELES THE SECOND. 
 
 tlemen, tliis fellow is tlie very man, Claude Duval, 
 as lie calls himself." 
 
 *' Trotliyou are riglit enougli: my motlier gave 
 me no reason to be ashamed of tlie name," said 
 Duval. 
 
 An exclamation of surprise, and even fear, burst 
 from tlic crowd. The smith ceased his work altoge- 
 ther, those who had swords laid hand on the hilts, 
 and the rest seized such weapons as chance presented, 
 as if against some ferocious animal. Claude Avas infi- 
 nitely puzzled, but could not refrain from laughing 
 at this sudden panic. 
 
 " Ay, laugh away, laugh away! you will grin 
 in another guise when the axe is on your neck," ex- 
 claimed the syndic, suffering himself to be elbowed 
 out of his prominent position. " Gentlemen, seize 
 him in the emperor's name and the good town's; he 
 is a robber — he confesses to the name — and his out- 
 ward presentments are exactly answerable. Seize 
 him." 
 
 " Who dares is weary of the world!" exclaimed 
 Claude, fiercely. " But what in all the saints' names, 
 has put this madness into your empty skulls?" 
 " Here comes one who will explain, good faith,"
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 157 
 
 said tlie syndic, pointing to a mass of moving ob- 
 jects advancing on tlie road. 
 
 Claude had no difficulty in making out what 
 was meant, when he recognised, amidst a confused 
 mob of peasants, a squat figure on a raw-boned 
 horse, which he seemed to sit with difficidty, bend- 
 ing forward in a very ludicrous position. Claude per- 
 ceived that this personage was relating some story, 
 in a raised and much excited tone, exhibiting to the 
 rabble, by way of illustration, his wrists and ankles, 
 which were marked in red rings. The broad tones 
 and vile French in which this individual was ad- 
 dressing his conductors, for it seemed he could 
 speak it when he chose, and the deception he was 
 practising, moved Claude irresistibly to laughter, in 
 spite of the danger in which he stood. Oates's eye 
 was instantly attracted by the unexpected sound, 
 and uttering a shrill cry, he crouched down to his 
 horse's neck, screaming, " Good people, good people, 
 seize him ! that is the murderous thief who mal- 
 treated me ! seize him." And as if overcome by 
 terror, he shded off his raw-boned steed to the 
 ground, where he lay kicking and screaming. 
 
 " Seize him in the emperor's name," shouted the
 
 158 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 syndic, rushing out of pistol range. " Au voleur ! 
 au voleur !" 
 
 Some of tlie boldest of tlie rabble, repeating tbis 
 cry, as liunters baUoo to the dogs, rusbed on Duval. 
 At first tbe good Norman began protesting liis 
 innocence, and accusing Oates of bis villany; but 
 bis voice was overpowered in tbe uproar. Finding 
 tbere was no cbance of fair play from tbe mob, 
 Claude, resolving to force bis way out of tbeir 
 clutcbes, drew bis sword. Tliis movement sent 
 tbem rolUng one over anotber in great confusion ; 
 but tbey were rallied instantly by tbe ponderous 
 porter, wbo struck Claude a stunning blow witb 
 bis cudgel on tbe sword arm. In a moment tbe mob 
 rusbed upon bim like waves of tbe sea, and be was 
 fairly overpowered and forced down. 
 
 Oates, observing tbe success of bis alHes, now 
 rusbed into tbe melee, and screaming, " My purse, 
 my purse, villain !" knelt on Claude's cbest, and tore 
 open bis doublet. Tbe next moment tbe purse 
 waved triumpbantly over Oates's bead, aud changing 
 his cry into, " My joals, my joals, monster !" be con- 
 tinued bis search ; but Claude was now roused to 
 desperation, and exerting all his strength, he dashed 
 Oates to tbe ground with terrible violence.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 159 
 
 The mob tliouglit their prisoner secure, and the 
 suddenness of the onset dismayed them. Claude 
 struck around him with his pistols, his sword being 
 broken, and he quickly cleared a way to the spot 
 where his horse was standing, with the tawny black- 
 smith beside it, staring dumb with amazement. To 
 spring into the saddle and dash out on the road, was 
 the work of a moment, and simultaneously Claude 
 perceived some mounted gendarmes galloping out of 
 St. Omer, shouting, *' Au voleur !" FHght was now 
 his sole resource, for he had little doubt he should be 
 cut do^Ti before he could make any explanation, 
 and he set off at a rate which soon left pursuit far 
 beliind. 
 
 His panic, however, served instead of the gend- 
 armerie, and Claude continued at the same speed 
 imtil his horse, strong as it was, showed symptoms 
 of exhaustion. Covered with foam, and the sweat 
 streaming from its flanks, the spur itself had lost the 
 power of urging it ; and Claude, finding that he was 
 crossing a large tract of unenclosed country, and 
 being satisfied that pursuit was over, allowed the 
 animal to take its own pace. He had now leisure 
 for thought, and his meditations were by no means 
 pleasant.
 
 160 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 He knew that lie was on tlie direct road to Paris, 
 and tliat in tliree hours he had left Saint Omer 
 nearly twenty miles behind him. The general be- 
 lief which Oates's tale had obtained, and the seem- 
 ing proofs which supported it, made it impossible 
 to return. On the other hand, his disappearance 
 would confirm all that had been alleged against 
 him. Resides, he had still in his possession, as he 
 thought, the bank bill which he was to have deU- 
 vered. On rummaging his pockets, however, he 
 found that it was gone, and very likely into Oates's 
 hands when he rifled him. 
 
 Under these circumstances, it seemed madness to 
 return, and when Claude ruminated on how he had 
 fulfilled his promise to the letter — that his lord was 
 dead, and his child's cause hopeless — he determined 
 to continue his route to Paris, and thence write a 
 full explanation of his conduct to the padi*e, and 
 await his instructions. But to efifect even this was 
 not v/ithout difficulty, for he was aware that the 
 whole country must soon be in a hue and cry, and 
 that his torn dress and the exhausted condition of 
 his horse must necessarily raise suspicion. He de- 
 termined, therefore, to conceal himself till night- 
 fall in a forest which stretched to his right.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 161 
 
 rrom this resolution lie "\yas diverted by a new 
 circumstance. As lie approaclied the forest a wild 
 boar rushed out, pursued by a full cry of huntsmen 
 and hounds, whose horses and gear were in not much 
 better pHght than his own ; and the thought struck 
 him that he Avould ride to a village which he saw 
 down in a ravine of the forest, and represent him- 
 self as one of the hunters, worn and ragfo-ed with the 
 day's sport. This idea no sooner occurred than he 
 adopted it, and walking beside his spent steed down 
 a very steep road, he found himself^, to his great joy, 
 before an inn, bearing the appropriate sign of the 
 " Golden Cross of Mercy." 
 
 Meanwhile Gates, though stretched bleeding and 
 senseless on the floor of the smithy, remained master 
 of the field. He was raised with the greatest tender- 
 ness, and agreeably to former orders, carried to the 
 Jesuits' college. Tlie whole story was at first heard 
 with increduhty by GHva. But Van Huysman took 
 the opposite side, less from any partiality to the per- 
 sonage whose fife he had saved, than from the na- 
 tural severity of his temper, and the ill opinion 
 which he had of mankind in general. He took the 
 care of Gates on himself, having studied medicine, 
 as a relaxation from theology; bled him, washed his 
 VOL. I. M
 
 1^2 CHAELES THE SECOND. 
 
 many bruises witli an embrocation, and ordered Kim 
 to remain quiet, altliougli lie testified a great desire 
 to speak — especially wlien lie heard tliat Duval bad 
 escaped all pursuit, tlie gendarmes returning com- 
 pletely exhausted. 
 
 On removing the purse, which Gates continued 
 to grasp convulsively, Van Huysman instantly re- 
 cognised it as that wliich had been taken from liim 
 by robbers in the wood near Calais. Learning, 
 however, that it had been torn from Claude, he 
 concluded that Gates had mistaken it for his own — 
 an opinion which that gentleman took no care to 
 impugTi when he understood how the case stood. 
 
 Every thing was against Claude. Although the 
 men who had robbed him were in black masks, Van 
 Huysman recollected that one of them resembled 
 Claude in height and figure. Little Mervyn's childish 
 innocence made it impossible to gather any confii-ma- 
 tion from him, and even Ghva began to inchne to the 
 painful behef, that Claude was indeed the assassin 
 he was represented. This opinion threw a shadow 
 of doubt on his whole story, which was deepened 
 into con\dction when his prolonged absence and 
 silence left no other mterprctation of liis conduct. 
 
 Meanwhile Gates recovered fast under the care of
 
 CHAKLES THE SECOND. 163 
 
 Van Huysman, wliose severe stoicism of temper and 
 manners nevertheless made even his charity repul- 
 sive. Gates, who had neither principles nor talents, 
 managed to conceal the want of both by the low 
 cunning wliich was liis characteristic. For some 
 time he kept absolute silence on the circumstances 
 which had occurred between liim and Duval, imder 
 pretext of extreme weakness. He however listened 
 to all accounts; questioned on such points as were 
 not sufficiently clear; — and at length, when the 
 general judged liim well enough to answer his in- 
 quiries, he was prepared with a tale so admirably 
 well concocted, that it was hardly possible to sus- 
 pect its truth. 
 
 The hints which Gates had gathered concerning 
 Mervyn, furnished him with the groundwork. He 
 alleged that he had met with Claude in the forest 
 of Clairvaux, that they had dined and drunk to- 
 gether, and that the former, excited by wine, con- 
 fessed that he had a plan afoot to deceive the fathers 
 of St. Gmer, and even gloried in it. This plan, 
 according to Gates, was notliing less than to thrust 
 a base child of his own upon the fathers, under pre- 
 text that it was the son of an Enghsh nobleman, 
 m2
 
 164 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 confined in tlie Tower ; an audacious calumny, wliicli 
 seemed supported by many circumstances. 
 
 On the whole, the balance of evidence inclined 
 strongly against Claude. Still the General withheld 
 his decision until some tidings should come from the 
 accused, and he still hoped that those tidings would 
 contain his justification. But when no Intelligence 
 whatever arrived, and several days past, the padre 
 found his suspicions ripening into certainty. Still 
 he was puzzled by the great resemblance between 
 Mervyn and the late earl, his alleged father, whom 
 he had known well in former times. Unluckily it 
 occurred to him to explain this resemblance in a 
 manner which chimed in with the general taste. 
 Although Lord Aumerle had never been a man of 
 intrigue, the padre knew not what influence the 
 dissolute manners of the restored court might have 
 exercised upon him. He thought it possible that 
 this child might be the fruit of some secret amour, 
 of which Claude bore the public blame. In short, 
 he knew not what to think with any certainty, and 
 finding that Gates knew nothing of the name of the 
 Lord Aiimerle in connexion with the affair, he or- 
 dered all matters pertaining to it to be kept a pro-
 
 CHARLES THE SECOXD. 165 
 
 found secret; and Van Huysman being liis only- 
 confidant, it was impossible for Oates, with all liis 
 cunning, to fathom the affair. 
 
 Doubtful as he was, or rather convinced that a 
 deception had been played upon him, the General 
 resolved to continue his protection to httle Mervyn. 
 The beauty, sweet temper, and talent of the child, 
 and his very helplessness, moved the padi-e's bene- 
 volent spirit, and he determined, in case of the 
 worst, to adopt the boy, and bring him up to the 
 holy ministry wliich he himself exercised ; and the 
 first faint traits of character in his childish nature 
 were such as to give great hopes, to him who would 
 undertake to bring those early blossoms to fruit. In 
 the mean time Oates recovered thoroughly from 
 the treatment he had received, and there remained 
 no longer a pretext for his remaining in the college. 
 He had given out that he was going to Paris, to 
 solicit service in the Dutch war ; but he delayed his 
 departure under various pretexts, the chief of which 
 was a pretended desire to become a catholic ; for he 
 purposely owned liis heretic education. 
 
 Van Huysman was pleased with this chance of 
 making a convert ; but on inquiry he found so much 
 ignorance, presumption, and even infidelity, under
 
 166 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 tlie li jpocritical gloss witli wliicli Oates covered Hs 
 real cliaracter, that lie frankly owned to Oliva he had 
 rather such a man remained a heretic. 
 
 Oates's real object was, however, to worm out the 
 core of the mystery which seemed to envelop young 
 Mervyn. But in this he was haffled; for his utmost 
 dihgence could only ascertain the fact of a large re- 
 ward being offered in England for Claude's capture; 
 but by whom or for what he could by no means 
 learn. 
 
 It became necessary at length to take his depar- 
 ture, for divers rumours came to Oates's ear, which 
 seemed to render that part of the country an uneasy 
 residence for him. He feared in particular that some 
 one might arrive from England who would recog- 
 nise him, especially as the college was then a sort o£ 
 head-quarters of the persecuted Enghsli cathohcs. 
 On the whole, though by no means tired of the hos- 
 pitahty of the good fathers, he judged it expedient 
 to leave the scene. He was stiU Hngering, however, 
 in the hope of hearing something about Claude, to 
 direct him in his future inquiries, when news arrived, 
 but not precisely of the sort which the captain de- 
 sired. Claude wrote to the padre from Paris, where 
 he stated himself to remain in great destitution ; and
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 167 
 
 after giving a brief but energetic account of tlie cir- 
 cumstances wliicli had forced liis abrupt departure 
 from Saint Omer, and accusing Oates of tlie robbery, 
 lie concluded by stating tliat lie bad hired himself 
 as a groom in the train of Rouvigny, the French 
 ambassador to England, who was about to proceed 
 thither. When there, he said, he would make such 
 inquiries as would set his own character in its true 
 light, and ascertain the possibihty of re-instating the 
 young heir in his rights. 
 
 It was not difficult for Oates, by protestations and 
 assertions, to throw an air of improbabihty on tliis 
 narrative, more especially as the Jesuits ascertained 
 about this time that the earl's bill had been pre- 
 sented and paid at Paris, by one who professed to be 
 their agent. At the same time he declared liis re- 
 solution of proceeding instantly to Paris, to find out 
 this vile calumniator, and bring liim to justice. In 
 fact, having now caught scent of his intended victim, 
 he was ready enough to depart. The padre, how- 
 ever, engaged him, if he learned any thing certain 
 about Claude, to communicate -with him before he 
 took any proceedings against him, and lent him a 
 sum of money to purchase a horse and accoutre- 
 ments, and so he departed one fine morning for
 
 168 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 Paris, — first bidding tlie Jesuits a most grateful fare- 
 Avell, and bathing Van Hujsman's hand with tears, 
 as he protested that his Hfe and all he had should 
 henceforth be held as his boon. 
 
 The weasel was now fairly on the track of the 
 hare, and as that persevering hunter, however out- 
 run in the start, never fails eventually to come up 
 with its victim, so fared it with Claude and his 
 pursuer. On aiiiving at Paris, the worthy captain 
 found, to his great grief, that the ambassador and all 
 his train had departed for England. He ascertained, 
 ]ievertheless, that a person answering the description 
 of Claude, was in his suite, and, finding no better 
 could be done, as he dared not venture his own 
 valuable person in England, he wrote to one whom 
 he thought very hkely to interest himself in the 
 matter — Colonel Blood. 
 
 The next news, accordingly, which the Jesuits 
 heard of Claude Duval was, that he w^as arrested 
 and accused of the robbery of his late lord. The 
 charge of Scandalum jMagnatum was dropped, on 
 Claude's making oath tliat the child in question Vv'as 
 his own, and that it had perished on the night of 
 the great fire, by the sinking of the boat as they 
 past under the burning bridge of London. Not
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 169 
 
 satisfied even with, this, tlie countess directed a letter 
 to be read in coui't from her late husband, shortly 
 after the birth of this pretended Reginald, Lord 
 Mervyn, certifying his decease. 
 
 Tlie ambassador made a slight stir about the arrest 
 of one of his servants, but he waived his privilege on 
 ascertaining the felonious nature of the charges 
 against him. And thus poor Claude was apparently 
 abandoned to the rage of his enemies, and OKva 
 heard, without surprise, that he was condemned to 
 the galleys for life. Shortly after, however, he ef- 
 fected his escape, and was not again heard of until 
 he emerged in that character which has rendered his 
 name the representative of all that is gallant, po- 
 lished, and daring in highway robbery.
 
 170 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE REAL POPISH PLOT. 
 
 Our little liero was now fairly installed at Saint 
 Omer. Oliva was indeed thoroughly persuaded that 
 he had been deceived in all Claude's statements, who, 
 he concluded, had taken advantage of an acquain- 
 tance with his master's secrets, to palm the child 
 upon liim. Still there was sometliing so engaging 
 in the beauty and vivacity of the httle foundling, 
 that the Jesuit's heart was touched with compassion, 
 and he resolved to accept the charge which chance 
 had confided to liim. 
 
 Tlie padre easily detected veins of fine and rare 
 materials in Mervyn's mind, which he thought might 
 be hewn into a magnificent pillar of the church. It
 
 CHAHLES THE SECOND. 171 
 
 was a stirring and a stormy period, demanding every 
 resource of genius and courage, when tlie Catliolic 
 power, after ebbmg for a liundred years before tlie 
 furious winds of tlie Reformation, was slowly and 
 majestically flowing back to tlie ancient landmarks. 
 
 Oliva determined on educating liis protege at St. 
 Omer, and afterwards taking Hm under bis own 
 protection as an adopted cliild, if liis future conduct 
 did not disappoint his expectations. There was, 
 however, some danger of tliis catastrophe, for with 
 all the sweetness and goodness of his disposition, 
 there was a wildness and impatience of restraint in 
 his character wliich threatened evil consequences. 
 Van Huysman seemed to think that under the stem 
 disciphne of the college, he could crush tliis rebel- 
 lious buoyancy of nature. The padre took care not 
 to contradict him, whatever he might think of the 
 matter; and as he himself shortly after returned to 
 Rome, Van Huysman had ample opportunities of 
 putting his ideas in practice. 
 
 Before he left St. Omer, OHva gave strict instruc- 
 tions that the circumstances attending Mervyn's ar- 
 rival should be kept secret, above all, from the youth 
 himself. He wished him neither to obtain any ink- 
 lings of Claude's romantic story of his birth, which
 
 172 CHAELES THE SECOND. 
 
 miglit give him unfoiniclcd liopes and expectations; 
 nor, on the other hand, to know the ignominy of what 
 the padi'e concluded to be the truth; especially as 
 Claude Duval's name had now become notorious in 
 England for several daring robberies, and Ohva had 
 little doubt that the scaffold would be liis ultimate 
 fate. 
 
 The man to whom Mervyn was thus confided 
 was by no means suited to the task assigned him, 
 which required rather a training than a pruning 
 hand. Arnold Van Huysman was a Belgian of 
 noble birth, a man whose natural inflexibility and 
 severity of temper were hardened, not subdued, by 
 the extreme ardour of his rehgious principles. He 
 carried devotion to the same pitch of imaginative 
 madness as the early ascetics of the African church, 
 in whose hot blood religion became a passion, and 
 belief fanaticism. Convinced of the apostolic truth 
 of the church of wliich he was a minister, he was 
 ready to endure or to inflict, with equal constancy 
 and unrelenting courage. Insensible to pleasure as 
 to pain, patient, persevering, inflexible in liis reso- 
 lutions, religion was his only enthusiasm, the sole 
 engine wdiich seemed to have poAver to raise his 
 passions. Severe misfortunes, the ingratitude of
 
 CHARLES THE SECOXD. 173 
 
 friends, tlie betrayal of tliose wliom lie had loved, 
 liad dried up all springs of natural aftection in liis 
 heart, and soured his temper, though an habitual 
 self-command, and great knowledge of the world, 
 kept its ebullitions under control. 
 
 Mervyn was soon initiated in the preliminaries of 
 education, as a pupil of the college, which was then 
 one of the most celebrated seminaries in Europe. 
 Many of the noblest families of France, and nearly 
 all the great CathoHc famiHes of England, had their 
 sons educated at St. Omer, which yearly sent forth 
 into the world the most eminent scholars and po- 
 lished intellects of the age. Men of great learning, 
 and of remarkable sobriety of manners, were its 
 teachers and examples, devoting all their energies 
 to the sublime task of educating a future age. The 
 nearly perfect system of training which that great 
 order matured in silence, and which but for the 
 sudden revolution that dashed it to pieces, might in 
 time have realized the grand vision of Loyola, and 
 restored to the CathoHc church her ma£rnificent em- 
 
 o 
 
 pire of mind, boundless as time and human exist- 
 ence, was estabhshed at St. Omer, in all its noiseless 
 but irresistible power. Tlie manufactory of intellect
 
 174 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 went on from day to day, as if of some material stuff, 
 wHch could be woven to the fancy of the artificer. 
 The system of the Jesuits nevertheless did not 
 aspire to what so many others have failed in, — to 
 destroy or to choke the natural current of genius or 
 passions in their pupils, — ^but only to direct them into 
 such channels as they thought expedient and useful 
 to the ends which they had in view. An entire 
 and mireserved obedience to the church in aU tilings, 
 a passionate, and at the same time an argumentative 
 beUef in her infallibility, were rigidly taught, and 
 as it were kneaded into the very thinking power 
 itself. On all others but religious points the Jesuits 
 admitted the supremacy of reason, and without di- 
 rectly impugning the sway of authority, they allowed 
 their pupils to canvass the dogmatic philosophy of 
 the times, and subject it to the analysis of experi- 
 ment. The decrees of Aristotle and of the school- 
 men, though still called infalHble in their acade- 
 mies, were no longer enforced with the weight of 
 ecclesiastical authority. The abstract and natural 
 sciences were studied with infinite zeal in their col- 
 leges. These sciences were indeed cultivated some- 
 what too exclusively, and seemed intended to reduce
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 175 
 
 the mind of man to a laborious macliine of tliought, 
 ratliertlian to inspire it with a creative energy. 
 The flowers of the imagination were rooted up, as if 
 they were weeds that impeded the harvest of soHd 
 thought. And here it was that the great rock of 
 their system presented itself; they committed the 
 great fault of forgetting that man has a heart as well 
 as a soul. 
 
 The discipHne of the convent of St. Omer, though 
 extremely severe, was enforced by Van Huysman 
 with the additional sternness of his character. The 
 commonest actions of existence were regulated by 
 an invisible but iron law, from which no reluctance, 
 no appeal, could obtain exemption. A repubhcan 
 equahty and simpHcity of diet, dress, and maimers, 
 reigned; the only Hcensed conversation, except in 
 recreation hours, was in Latin, and then always on 
 subjects which called forth the controversial powers 
 of the mind. Nothino; frivolous, notliino: even 
 merely amusing, was ever permitted; their very 
 sports had a reasonableness in them, wliich showed 
 that men, and not boys, had planned them. 
 
 The garb of the students was exceedingly simple, 
 and no distinction which rank or riches could make, 
 was allowed. It consisted of dark brown cloaks,
 
 176 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 crossecl-sliaped caps, and cassocks of snowy linen; 
 with sucli sliglit alterations as tlie seasons required. 
 
 Time past on, and as year after year rolled away, 
 Mervyn's cliaracter began to expand in all its beau- 
 ties and defects, to tlie watcliful eyes of his precep- 
 tors. Van Huysman observed its development 
 with close attention, for Oliva continued to exact a 
 particular account of him. It is true, that the 
 interest which the padre had at first taken in his 
 little foundling was somewhat weakened by time 
 and long absence ; but he still continued to cherish 
 a kindly recollection of him, mingled with much of 
 that divine feeling which makes us love the thing 
 we have benefited. But the accounts which the 
 rector from time to time forwarded, were not so fa- 
 vourable as the padre had hoped. Van Huysman 
 had often occasion to complain of the boy's impa- 
 tience under rule, his daring and invincible pride, 
 which no punishment could subdue, and which ge- 
 nerally made him the head and front of all acts of 
 insubordination. Tliese achievements, of course, 
 brought punishment on his head, the extreme seve- 
 rity of which, however, seemed only to rouse an 
 indomitable power of endurance, almost of defi- 
 ance.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 177 
 
 Van Huysman, nevertheless, had remarked, not 
 without some doubt of the efficacy -of liis severe 
 system, that after menaces and chastisement were 
 exhausted in vain, to melt the boy's obstinacy, a 
 few kind words would bring tears into his eyes, and 
 a touch on the point of honour suddenly vanquished 
 all his obstinacy. Tliese were good traits, and the 
 rector, with all his austerity, really loved young 
 Mervyn better than any other of his numerous 
 charge. Indeed it was scarcely possible to avoid 
 distinguishing one so beautiful — for he grew up as 
 his childhood had promised — and withal so finely, 
 though capriciously endowed, that his talents were 
 at once a wonder and a perplexity to his tutors. 
 
 But Van Huysman's affection produced an effect 
 which most observers would have supposed to 
 spring from a contrary motive — it increased his 
 watchfulness and severity towards the object of it, 
 and rendered liis slio^htest fault less venial than 
 heavy misdemeanors in the other pupils. No won- 
 der then, that Mervyn, as yet unacquainted with 
 the metaphysics of the heart, mistook his preceptor's 
 feelings, and imagined liimself an object of peculiar 
 dislike to him. Tliis again produced a reaction, for 
 Mervyn, who was ever too easily led by those 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 wliom lie loved, or who he thought loved him, was 
 inflexible as adamant to the compulsion which he 
 thought injustice. 
 
 With all his faults, however, his talents were un- 
 doubted, and Van Huysman had long dedicated 
 him in silence to the magnificent cause for which 
 he himself was ready to become a martyr — ^the re- 
 storation of the ancient integrity and dominion of 
 the Roman Church. But this purpose was in some 
 respects Hkely to be baffled by the natural disposi- 
 tion of Mervyn, which seemed, from its daring and 
 activity, rather fitted to form a great soldier than 
 a distinguished ecclesiastic. And yet the work for 
 which Van Huysman imagined himself forming a 
 labourer, required many of the virtues which, in 
 less stormy times, were deemed rather the charac- 
 teristics of the killers of men than of the savers of 
 souls. Courage, patience to endure, and daring to 
 inflict, subtlety of intellect, and profound acquaint- 
 ance with the passions and politics of the time, were 
 among the qualifications required by that bold 
 order, whose colossal design it was to bring back 
 the whole northern world to the footstool of the 
 Roman dominion. 
 
 It is true also that Mervyn was not without his
 
 CmVELES THE SECOND. 179 
 
 fits of application to studies of a nature suitable 
 to the pui-pose for wliich he was intended. He 
 plunged, with the reckless enthusiasm of liis cha- 
 racter, into the deep ocean of learning to whose 
 shore they conducted him ; and if he neither dived 
 deep, nor brought up pearls of value, the exercise 
 served to strengthen the muscles and nerves of his 
 intellect. It seemed to Van Huysman that, even 
 in studying the writings of the fathers of the church, 
 it was rather for the historical and poetical material 
 they yielded, than for their devotional and contro- 
 versial stores, that he devoured them with such 
 avidity. The animated picture which those pon- 
 derous tomes present, as it were unconsciously, of 
 ancient manners, opinions, and deeds; the dramatic 
 splendour of the narratives in which the glowing 
 fancies of the African fathers have clothed the 
 stirring events of the times in which they lived; 
 these caught his attention more than their controver- 
 sial value. Van Huysman perceived that he had a 
 poetical nature to deal with ; an inert power which 
 accident might awake, as the chords of the JEolian 
 harp are mute till the chance breeze passes which 
 wakes it into passionate music ; and he had no wish 
 to stifle, nor even divert, this natural sensibiHty, 
 2n
 
 180 CHAKLES THE SECOND. 
 
 but rather to direct its energies into the channel 
 where it was intended they should flow ; for he was 
 too deeply versed in human science, not to know 
 that even the eloquence of religion is cold and 
 powerless, unless kindled by those fine emotions and 
 sparkling thoughts which only poetical enthusiasm 
 can strike out of the flints of locric. 
 
 o 
 
 Mervyn was allowed the full range of the noble 
 library which the Jesuits had accumulated in their 
 college, and though it consisted, of course, of such 
 works only as had past the keen ordeal of their cri- 
 ticism, there was much to kindle strange thoughts 
 and yearnings in so young a breast. Tlie activity 
 of his genius, deprived of its proper exercise, vented 
 its wild profusion of power in inert speculation and 
 dreamy revery, which, however carefully concealed 
 in his own heart, increased the discontent which 
 preyed upon him inwardly. As time passed, strange 
 ideas crept into his mind, he knew not how; indis- 
 tinct longings to venture out on that brilliant, rest- 
 less sea of love and glory which his imagination 
 painted in the world ; a vague yearning for power 
 and freedom, which are, in general, the first wishes 
 formed by the aspiring heart of youth, invaded his 
 monkish solitude.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 181 
 
 The Jesuits, wlio desired that their pupils should 
 he well qualified to mingle in a world which they 
 were to govern only by the supremacy of intellect, 
 had accumulated in their library the choicest works 
 of human genius, even in branches which they con- 
 sidered frivolous. Poets and romancers were in this 
 latter category, and though, in general, forbidden 
 books, the rector was not unwiUing to allow Mer- 
 vyn's taste some exercise in this direction. Among 
 all these, Ariosto soon became the young student's 
 favourite, and many of his happiest hours were 
 spent over those charmed lays. Ariosto is, in truth, 
 the very poet of youth; he breathes nought but 
 love and triumph and pleasure ; his passions are in 
 their full and beautiful energy, liis flowers in their 
 loveliest bloom; no scent of autumn haunts the 
 deep verdure of his forests All things are possible 
 in liis legends; the prejudices and harsh laws of 
 Nature and of man yield alike to his magic, or are 
 not supposed to exist. Even death and despair and 
 sorrow are but shadowed angels, not the black fiends 
 of northern imagination ; liis heroes and heroines 
 die, but it is recHning on beds of violets, with the 
 songs of nightingales sweetly warbling them to rest.
 
 182 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 CHAPTER Xir. 
 
 THE WORLD AND GENIUS. 
 
 As Mervyn's knowledge of tlie deeds and opin- 
 ions of men increased, tlie idea of inquiring from 
 whom lie had derived liis existence occurred to liim, 
 at first as a subject of curiosity, but finally it ripened 
 into a deep and anxious desire. Circumstances con- 
 tributed to fan this kindled wish. Republican as 
 was the equahty Avhich the Jesuits enforced in their 
 academies, and resolutely as they endeavoured to 
 annihilate even the shadows of those distinctions of 
 rank and birth which, in that age were emblazoned 
 in all the pomp and pride of heraldry, those dis- 
 tinctions were recollected and enforced among the 
 pupils with more severity for the prohibition of the
 
 CHARLES THE SECOXD. 183 
 
 masters. Among youths wlio were principally sprung 
 from tlie noblest blood of France and England, what 
 but shame and contempt could be the portion of the 
 almost nameless Mervyn? Even among the poorer 
 class of students, whom the fathers brought up for 
 charity or policy, he found little sympathy. How- 
 ever vulgar and imhonoured their names might be, 
 all had tico — all could speak of famihes and relations. 
 It is true that the fierceness with which he resented 
 any attack, however obHque, on his obscure parent- 
 age, and the courage and success which marked liis 
 outbursts of passion, discouraged many from trying 
 experiments on his feelings. But still schoolboys as 
 well as men know how to pierce the soul with those 
 fine wormds which, deeply as they enter, leave no 
 marks to appeal to, or to justify revenge. 
 
 It was therefore, after long sufferings and bitter 
 heart-burnings, proudly concealed from the gaze of 
 all, that Mervyn at length resolved to venture on a 
 step which nothing but desperation — as he then 
 thought — could induce him to take. Often as he 
 had endeavoured, by various means and from various 
 persons, masters and servants, to acquire some no- 
 tion of his early years, and how he came among 
 those youths who had all Httle histories of a Past
 
 184 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 to relate, lie obtained only cliilling negatives, or 
 absolute commands never to mention tlie subject. 
 
 Mervjn was at lengtli nearly goaded to madness 
 by tlie reproacbes and sarcasms of liis companions, 
 who, with tbe mabce inspired by envy of liis per- 
 sonal superiority, cii'culated among themselves a 
 story, tlie absurdity of wliich only added zest to 
 its falseliood. It was said tbat lie was tbe illegiti- 
 mate offspring of a robber, beheaded at St. Omer, 
 in wliose fate Van Huysman bad taken great spi- 
 ritual interest, and was said to have accepted the 
 charge of his child from the dying malefactor. 
 
 One day, when the Avhole school was collected in 
 the Theatrum, for it was an examination- day, and 
 not a somid was heard but the studious hum of the 
 scholars, Mervyn stepped boldly forward, liis cheeks 
 flushed with excitement, his eyes sparkling, and his 
 whole frame trembling with nervous sensibility. 
 The whole hall watched his movements with sur- 
 prise, and those who had been the most covertly 
 guilty towards liim, were not without terror when 
 they saw him advance to the cathedra itself — the 
 lofty chair in wliich Van Huysman sat, enforcing 
 silence and awe with the mere dignity of his pre- 
 sence.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 185 
 
 The rector himself seldom or never interfered in 
 the direct business of tuition; but his gaunt majestic 
 figure, the consciousness that his searching eye was 
 upon all, the knowledge of his inflexible severity, 
 kept more order and submission than could the rods 
 of a hundred ushers. Towards this dread presence, 
 alone, uncalled for, but seemingly undaunted, did 
 Mervyn advance. 
 
 The rector himself raised Ms eyes from a book he 
 was perusing, not without some surprise, and in- 
 quired with harsh brevity, " Quid vis fili?" 
 
 " I want you to answer me tliree questions, most 
 reverend," rephed Mervjm, resolutely, and in French 
 — a forbidden language during the academy hours. 
 
 " Tu?" rephed the rector, letting his book down 
 on his lap, and gazing with his stern eyes on the boy. 
 There was an emphasis on this sohtary syllable, 
 which made all tremble but Mervyn. 
 
 " Will you answer them, father? — for till you do, 
 I swear by this holy cross woven into my clothes 
 and heart, I will never learn another lesson though 
 you kill me?" 
 
 " Indeed I — and what are thy questions, child?" 
 said the rector, in a milder tone than any one ex- 
 pected.
 
 186 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 *' I want to know from wliom I spring? — have la 
 father? — Why do I know a language which I never 
 learned? — And, why," he continued, bursting into 
 tears, " why do I dream sad things that make me 
 weep, and which yet seem to me, when I wake, Hke 
 recollections of persons and places I have actually 
 known and seen?" 
 
 For a moment Van Huysman was absolutely 
 silent with astonishment at the daring of the boy, 
 and the extraordinary questions wliich he asked. 
 Tlie next, and his severe mind clutched at the ad- 
 vantage to be made by answering — to humble the 
 boy's proud heart, and force upon him the conviction 
 of the utter dependance in which he stood to the 
 power which had thus far been his refuge and sup- 
 port. He therefore replied with perfect calmness, 
 even gentleness, 
 
 *' Since you have asked me, son, I will answer 
 you, and according to our custom, with truth and 
 simplicity, although it certainly pains me to inflict 
 pain upon you. Briefly then, you have a father, a 
 poor serving-man — not beheaded at St. Omer, but 
 who will doubtless undergo that or a similar fate 
 some day either in France or England, for he is a 
 noted highwayman in both countries. His name
 
 CHARLES TEE SECOND. 187 
 
 will rest an eternal secret from you. Witli regard to 
 your second question, English is your native tongue, 
 and for purposes wliicli I sliall explain at a future 
 time, I have carefully cultivated your knowledge of 
 a language which God has given you for great pur- 
 poses. As to your dreams, I must needs impute 
 their wildness and gloom either to a temptation of 
 Satan, or to the irregular course of reading in which 
 I am conscious I have too much indulged you." 
 
 Even as he uttered these harsh truths, Van Huys- 
 man was touched with pity for the young recipient, 
 who stood pale and quivering with contending pas- 
 sions before him. He hesitated as to whether he 
 might not soften liis assertions a Httle, but obser\-ino; 
 the fiery mark of what seemed to him defiance on 
 the boy's cheek, he was silent. 
 
 The first words of liis reply caused a sort of fearful 
 titter among the students, although one glance from 
 his terrible eye utterly suppressed all indications or 
 even tendencies to mirth. But the lauofh was heard 
 
 o 
 
 too distinctly by IMervyn, and haimted him through 
 years and years of far difierent scenes and events. 
 
 The rector, however, seemed to wait patiently for 
 some reply, and when he heard none, though burn- 
 ing tears gushed profusely from his pupil's eyes, and
 
 188 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 he seemed choking with sobs, natiiral feeHngs ahnost 
 conquered liis acquired stoicism. 
 
 " Mj son," he said, with pecidiar gentleness, " do 
 not sorrow as one that hath no hope. You are not 
 fatherless nor friendless; the church, the common 
 mother of all mankind, is pecuharly yom's. She has 
 accepted you as an orphan into her hosom, and re- 
 gards you as one of the most precious deposits which 
 Heaven could confide to her charge. Her vast in- 
 heritance is yours ; your portion in Israel is as hers. 
 I say it aloud, my son, before all these men of proud 
 and ancient blood — obscurely born as you are, I do 
 beheve that nature has created you to be their leader 
 and master." 
 
 " Why then am I their jest and football?" burst 
 from poor Merv3ni's heart, and overcome by shame 
 and agony, he fell insensible at the rector's feet. 
 
 Van Huysman lifted him, and administered re- 
 storatives wliich quickly renovated his exhausted 
 faculties, and then directed liim to retire to liis cell. 
 The rector immediately resumed his habitual stoicism 
 of manner, and the exercises of the morning went 
 on as usual to their conclusion. 
 
 On Van Huysman's seeking Merv^ai in his cell, 
 some hours afterwards, he found him stretched on
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 189 
 
 his mattress, weeping, and evidently exhausted with 
 sorrow. It was in this mood that the Jesuit hoped 
 to find him, and he knew well what springs to set in 
 movement in the proud spirit with wliich he had to 
 deal. He sat down by his bed, and in a tone calmer, 
 graver, and more affectionate than ever he had used 
 before, began to expostulate with the youth. He 
 reasoned profoundly, and with an earnestness which 
 seemed as if he were not himself altos^ether free from 
 the grand mania of the EngUsh repubhcans — on the 
 nothingness of birth, and indeed of all human dis- 
 tinctions ; on the sublime pride of owing nothing to 
 men's opinions, and yet of mastering them; of being 
 the architect of his own fortunes ; and he sketched a 
 dim but magnificent outline of the grandeur to which 
 the gifts he had received from nature alone might 
 raise him ; terminating the -vdsta by a splendid aerial 
 view of the domes of the Vatican. He alluded, 
 with more emotion than ever Mervyn had imagined 
 he could feel, to the misfortunes of his own early 
 youth, from which the greatness of liis birth was so 
 far from protecting him that it had been the chief 
 cause of his sufferings. He did not indeed mention 
 how — but there were rumours afloat which Mervyn
 
 190 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 had heard, concerning some early love for a woman 
 of inferior rank, and of a tragical sequel brought on 
 by the pride and fury of his family. 
 
 All that could be suggested by the noble and 
 austere philosophy of which he was a disciple, Van 
 Huysman offered to Mervyn. But the maxims of 
 stoicism were not made for youth, and its petrifying 
 doctrine needs a deep mingling with the waters of 
 sorrow, ere it can harden the feelings into that stony 
 and passive repose which, according to Epictetus, 
 is happiness. Mervyn, therefore, listened submis- 
 sively, but without being persuaded. 
 
 The rector observed his httle success, and quietly 
 took another tack. He touched him on the score 
 of his pride, and asked him if he meant to give his 
 envious companions the satisfaction of observing 
 what effect their poor sarcasms had upon liim. 
 Mervyn took fire at the suggestion, and dried his 
 tears, declaring he would let them see he was their 
 superior in every thing but the mere chance of 
 birth, and that he was fitted to wm himself a 
 prouder name than any they had inherited. Van 
 Huysman applauded tliis resolution, and having 
 exacted a promise that he would show his contempt
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND, 191 
 
 only by philosopHcal indifference, led liim to tlie 
 refectory, where the scholars were assembled at their 
 noonday meal. 
 
 The dinner past over with the usual silence and 
 order, and at its conclusion the students were allowed 
 to take their accustomed recreation in the grounds 
 of the college. 
 
 Mervyn, who was wont to be foremost in the 
 athletic sports of the playground, kept now at a dis- 
 tance, and wandered aloof, with his arms folded, lost 
 as it seemed in bitter meditation. The other youths, 
 released from the stern watch of their superiors, began 
 to make jests on him, and to mock his melancholy 
 manners. Tliis roused the bitterness and. defiance 
 of his nature; he walked contemptuously through 
 them, uttering not a word, but seeming to glare 
 defiance on all. A general hiss was the consequence, 
 and forgetting his promise to the rector, he turned 
 round and challenged any or all to fight. 
 
 There was an immediate and dead silence to this 
 proposal. It happened, however, that some young 
 men were playing at tennis, and one of them, son of 
 a Marshal of France, threw the ball, whether by ac- 
 cident or design, at Mervyn, who received a violent 
 blow on his temple. To catch the ball and send it
 
 192 CHARLES THE SECOXD. 
 
 back witli empliasis at tlie young noble's head, was 
 the work of an instant ; blood instantly flowed from 
 tlie wound, and tlie suiferer, foaming with rage and 
 pain, raised a cry of " Down with the bastard!" 
 The cry was instantly caught up, and repeated by 
 the whole mob of schoolboys, and a general attack 
 on Mervyn followed, in the midst of which a car- 
 riage, di'awn by mules very superbly harnessed, and 
 surrounded by lackeys in dark livery, arrived at the 
 gates, from which an old man alighted, leaning on 
 Van Huysman's arm. 
 
 So suddenly had the riot risen, that the visiter's 
 attention and that of Van Huysman's were called to 
 it at the same moment, and just as the hunted Mer- 
 vyn stood hot and exhausted at the carriage door. 
 
 Van Huysman's waved hand liTished the whole 
 hubbub instantly, and there was a deep pause of 
 silence. 
 
 " Tliis is singular disciphne, brother," said the 
 new-comer, sternly. " Is it thus that you allow your 
 pupils to hunt each other, like savage beasts? And 
 what is this? — Can it be? Is this poor panting 
 child my — I mean is it, Mervyn ?" 
 
 As if in reply to the padre's question, all pointed 
 to the bleeding skull of the marshal's son.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 193 
 
 " What say you to tins charge, Mervyn?" said the 
 visiter, in tones of great kindness. '* Be not afraid 
 of me, child — I will be your friend, as I have ever 
 been, if you give me not cause to the contrary. Do 
 you not remember me ?" 
 
 " I have never forgotten you," said the boy, pas- 
 sionately, and snatching the padre's hand, he kissed 
 it, and burst into tears. 
 
 '' Your protector, child," said Oliva, gently, for he 
 it was. " And now tell me, why did you throw the 
 ball at De Grammont's head?" 
 
 " He called me bastard!" sobbed Mervyn. 
 
 " Is tliis true, M. de Grammont?" said the padi-e, 
 turning to the young Frenchman. 
 
 " And so he is, my lord," replied he. " His reve- 
 rence told us all he was so, this morning, from the 
 chair." 
 
 " How, brother?" exclaimed Oliva, turning sharply 
 round. 
 
 '' My lord, I will explain all," said the rector 
 meekly ; " but it is not fit that my apology should be 
 heard by these unreasoning boys." 
 
 " And bastard as you call me," exclaimed Mer- 
 vyn, again yielding to the violence of his passions, 
 
 VOL. I. O
 
 194 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 *' I tell you all, French nobles, to your teeth — that 
 I were prouder to be the bastard, if I am such, of 
 one whose fathers conquered at Crecy, than the 
 lawfuUest lieir of the proudest noble that was con- 
 quered there." 
 
 Oliva smiled, though with some degree of re- 
 proof; and commanding all to retire to their cells, 
 he entered the college, leaning on Van Huysman's 
 arm. 
 
 The state of Merv}Ti's mind, which Van Huys- 
 man now described -^dth minute sagacity, troubled 
 the padre, and he determined to examine him more 
 particularly himself. Mervyn was accordingly sent 
 for, and entered with a modest and downcast visage. 
 Tlie padre was secretly touched -with his humihty 
 and beauty, as he knelt to receive his blessing, and 
 arose reverentially before him in his plain garb of a 
 young acolyte. 
 
 *' How is this, son," he said, mildly, " your re- 
 verend rector tells me you grow restless, pining, 
 discontented ; that you are not satisfied with your- 
 self, nor with your companions ? "What is the reason 
 of this ? Wliat do you desire ? Do not fear to tell 
 me," continued he, after waiting a few moments for
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 195 
 
 a reply. ** I was young in other days myself. Tell 
 me boldly, son, what would you have to make 
 you content?" 
 
 *' Glory, father!" replied the boy, resolutely. 
 
 " Glory, my son?" replied Oliva, smiling. " And 
 what glory ? — of heaven or of earth-?" 
 
 " Of both," said Mervyn. " I am dishonoured 
 hy my birth ; I would repair the injustice which fate 
 and men's opinions have inflicted on me. I would 
 win a name, father — a name ! which the crime of my 
 parents has denied me. I would not grow, wither, 
 and die like a weed on a rock, which the ocean of 
 time sweeps away for ever, none know whither and 
 none care." 
 
 " And this glory — have I not put you on the way 
 to win it, son?" said Oliva, somewhat reproach- 
 fully. 
 
 " Father, forgive me; I dare confess to you — I 
 dare I" said Mervyn, passionately. " No ; I know 
 that I can never win glory — never, never fulfil even 
 my duties — as a minister of rehgion. Tlie sword, the 
 sword, my father ! give me a sword ! let me die as a 
 champion of the church in the field of battle ! I ask 
 no better fate ; but I feel that I have not within 
 02
 
 196 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 me the qualities wliicli make tlie priest ; I liave nei- 
 ther patience, nor meekness, nor power to persuade, 
 nor am I passionless as the marble on which I lean. 
 Be not angry, holy father, and let me die for you 
 and the churcli, but on some field of battle, not at 
 the stake." 
 
 " Child, you mistake your vocation," said Oliva, 
 with some degree of sadness in his tones. " Know 
 you not that the same prejudices which declare your 
 birth infamous will meet you on every hand, and 
 keep your soaring genius for ever chained to the 
 dust ! Hope you to wash away the stain in your 
 blood? or that the proud nobles of France will suffer 
 a base-born plebeian to reap the harvest of glory 
 which they have long regarded as their peculiar 
 property? Know you not that the class from which 
 you spring are the hewers of Avood, and drawers of 
 water ; the men whose sinews and blood plough and 
 sow the soil which their masters reap?" 
 
 " Is there no refuge then, father, from the scorn 
 of mankind? Father, how have I deserved this pu- 
 nishment?" exclaimed Mervyn, vehemently. 
 
 " What is, is ; we cannot alter it," repHed Oliva. 
 " The English republicans vainly attempted to break
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND, 197 
 
 the injustice of ages ; tliey liave tlieir king back 
 again, and witli liioi the whole mountain of tyranny 
 which their levers raised for an instant only to let it 
 fall with additional force. Judge yourself, Mervyn 
 — what have you to expect from the justice of the 
 French nobiHty? These boys who persecute and 
 hate you because your merit is superior to theirs, 
 are your cotemporaries — will in time be the noblesse 
 of France, to whom you look for the reward of toil 
 and blood!" 
 
 " Then am I born a slave, and a slave shall I go 
 to my grave I" exclaimed Mervyn, with a fresh gush 
 of t^ars. 
 
 " Not so, my son; there is one refuge, one only," 
 replied the padre, with solemnity. " The church 
 opens her arms visibly to receive you — the only true 
 repubHc where merit may hope to thrive against 
 prejudice, and set her feet on the purple of kings. 
 Deem you the tremendous empire of mind is not 
 worth wielding? Tliink you it is nobler to sway the 
 bodies of men than their souls ? What say you? Hath 
 not the sovereignty over men's thoughts a grandeur 
 more attractive to om- immortal nature than the 
 mere control of the clay that shrines it? And let
 
 198 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 me tell tliee too, my son," lie added, obsendng the 
 effect wliicH his words seemed to produce; " let me 
 tell you, that spiritual as our dominion is, or should 
 be, it doth oft and necessarily involve temporal sway 
 and power. Listen, cliild ! who, deem you, governs 
 France? Not Louis, though he be the king! Who, 
 Spain? Not Carlos, no! But these are secrets too 
 important to be trusted to you as yet. What say 
 you, son? will you be one of us, and share the co- 
 lossal design on which the eyes of Heaven and earth 
 are alike fixed?" 
 
 " Oh, if I but thought I could attain such glory, 
 -without perilHng my salvation through inabihty to 
 perform the conditions," said Mervyn, his fine fea- 
 tures manthng with enthusiasm, when the padre in- 
 terrupted him — 
 
 " You can, you shall, my child!" he said, with a 
 degree of vehemence very lumsual in his subdued 
 nature. " Heaven confided you to my care, hke 
 Moses to the daughter of Pharaoh, a helpless infant, 
 redeemed you from a land of heresy, for the great 
 purpose to which I dedicate you. Yes, my son, 
 your glory shall rival that of Saint Augustine ! He 
 but converted a barbarous people to the fold of
 
 CHAFwLES THE SECOND. 199 
 
 Christ ; you sliall perform a harder task — you shall 
 bring them back to the fold when the wolf has scat- 
 tered them." 
 
 Carried away by the enthusiasm of the moment, 
 and of his own character, Merv}^! threw liimself at 
 the padre's feet, and in broken accents declared his 
 willingness to accept the task confided to him, if he 
 was not altogether unworthy of it. Raising his 
 eyes then to Heaven, and laying his hands on the 
 boy's head, Ohva solemnly blessed and dedicated 
 him to the service of the church, while Van Huys- 
 man echoed a deep Amen. 
 
 Mervyn was on the point of rising vfhen the 
 padre observed him start, and saw that his eye was 
 caught by some object at the door, which seemed to 
 disturb him, Hke the silent entrance of a spectre^ 
 Van Huysman, too, turned and beheld a man whom 
 he thought he recollected, though dimly and un- 
 pleasantly, as if associated with some disagreeable 
 dream. The strano^er seemed indulonno^ in a sort of 
 sardonic grin, probably at the scene he had inter- 
 rupted, though it vanished the instant the elders 
 turned, and became by some sudden transmutation 
 a smile of hypocritical humihty.
 
 200 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE AVOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING. 
 
 *' Disturb not yourself, brother," said Oliva, 
 after a moDient's pause. " It is one of my attend- 
 ants, an acolyte wliom at earnest entreaty I liave 
 been prevailed on to place with you here; but, 
 brother Titus, methinks you somewhat exceed your 
 privilege, to dog my privacy here." 
 
 " My lord," replied the brother, with abject sub- 
 inissiveness of tone, " if you had not bid me wait 
 upon you here, I were, as suits me, engaged in the 
 holy penitence you have been pleased to impose 
 on me." 
 
 Tliere was something in the tones of the man's 
 voice singularly displeasing to Mervyn.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 201 
 
 *' Truly, yes : I had forgotten I meant to intro- 
 duce you to the reverend rector," said Oliva. " I 
 will be candid with you, brother, and in your pre- 
 sence say all that I intend to say about you, that 
 you may know on what terras you stand here. 
 Some weeks ago," he continued, addressing Van 
 Huysman, " I received a letter from our brother 
 Whitebread, in London, which was brought by tliis 
 acolyte. Among other matters, the contents of that 
 letter did recommend the bearer to us, with words 
 to this purpose : Tliat his name is Titus Oates, son 
 of an anabaptist preacher, discharged from the 
 family of the Duke of Norfolk, and the chaplaincy 
 of a war vessel, on accusation of preaching popish 
 doctrines: that he had at one time exercised the 
 martial trade, but gi'owing weary of it and of the 
 world, he desires to be reconciled to the church, and 
 to die in her bosom, if you are wilHng to indulge 
 him with a trial, brother?" 
 
 " Wliat hath induced you, friend, to Avish to be 
 of our society?" said Van Huysman, musingly. 
 
 *' Reverend father," repHed Titus, " a deep 
 conviction that it alone can recall the wanderers 
 of Israel, and work the extirpation of the Cana- 
 anite. But," continued the acolyte, " can you, re-
 
 202 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 verend father have forgotten that you once saved 
 the Hfe of one Captain Gates, left by robbers bound 
 and bruised in the forest of Clairvaux?" 
 
 " And art thou he, friend?" said Van Huysman. 
 
 *'I am all that is left of that sinful man," said 
 brother Titus, humbly; " and I will freely confess 
 that in those days your blessed exhortations fell on 
 mine ear like corn on a barren rock. But blessed 
 is he who throws bread on all waters, for after many 
 days he shall find it again." 
 
 " Ay, brother, but perchance musty and rotten," 
 rephed the rector, sternly. " But tell me, art thou 
 cheerfully resolved to forsake the world and its va- 
 nities, and to become a new man?" 
 
 " Heaven be my witness, I am !" said Titus, turn- 
 ing up his eyes till only the whites were visible. 
 
 " Your name, your country, your parentage, we 
 know,'^ continued the rector, as if anxious to work 
 out some objection. " But, prithee, what is your 
 age? And are you subject to any bodily infirmity, 
 or owe any man debt?" 
 
 ** For the body, 'sbud ! I'm as strong as a horse," 
 said Gates, coarsely. " For debts, I have paid all 
 I owe to the last farthing I had to pay with; and 
 for my age, I was forty-two last Michaelmas."
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 203 
 
 *' Metliinks, brother, at my entreaty, you might 
 admit him to probation?" interposed the padre. 
 
 " Nay, I would not be as one of those harsh and 
 heretic builders who reject the stone because it is 
 flawed," said the rector. " But this man — no matter. 
 We admit you on a trial; go hence to the cell of 
 the examiner, father Lascelles, who will write your 
 name and statements in the books." 
 
 "Son Mer^^yn, guide the no\'ice thither," said 
 the padre. " We must have private speech with 
 the reverend rector. Why do you hesitate, youth?" 
 
 " It likes me not, most reverend," replied Merv^yn, 
 frankly. " I do remember this brother's eyes — I 
 have seen them in a dream." 
 
 *' Tut, tut ! you are a fooHsh phantasist," said 
 Oliva, sharply. " Let us hear no more of these 
 strange reveries. Go with him, I command you." 
 
 Merv}Ti obeyed liis superior's order, but with a 
 sullen ill-will, which was very apparent. Brother 
 Titus, however, seemed not to notice tliis, and fol- 
 lowed him in silence till they were out of ear-shot 
 in the corridor, when the former observed, — 
 
 " I should remember thee, youth — ay, sooth, it was 
 my chance to be an inmate of this convent when 
 thy father abandoned thee here."
 
 204 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 "My father! wliat was liis name? They will 
 not tell me — only that he was a thief I" exclaimed 
 Mervyn, with sudden and vivid interest. 
 
 " Not a thief, but a robber, boy, — which is much 
 more honourable — something between your rogue 
 and your soldier," said Oates. " But I, too, consi- 
 der myself bound by the prohibition thou speakest 
 of, and will not now tell thee his name on any con- 
 sideration. Nevertheless, the time may come, when 
 I shall make thee wiser," continued Oates, taking 
 the boy's unwilling hand. " Meanwhile, count me 
 among those who love thee. Leave me, with this 
 message to the father rector — that I know from 
 whom thou springest, and that the first proofs I offer 
 him of my obedience and Christian spirit, are these 
 — that I will never betray the secret." 
 
 By this crafty means did Oates establish a sort of 
 influence over Mervyn's mind, as the depository of 
 a secret which he would have given almost Hfe to 
 fathom. 
 
 A few days after tliis ill-omened introduction, 
 the General resumed his journey, but he pledged 
 his word to Mervyn, that as soon as he had worthily 
 fulfilled his novitiate, he should come to him at 
 Rome, anl profess. This assurance seemed to re-
 
 CHARLES THE 8EC0XD. 205 
 
 animate tlie drooping spirits of tKe boy, and he se- 
 parated himself almost wholly from liis insulting fel- 
 lows, plunging with renewed ardour into the severe 
 studies which were necessary to place him at their 
 head. 
 
 But this fit of appKcation, Hke all that is violent, 
 was not lasting ; the influence of his mercurial na- 
 ture returned, and inaction began to grow a posi- 
 tive pain. It was in vain that he strove to stifle 
 those thoughts, which involuntarily rose in his heart. 
 A restless voice seemed perpetually to incite him 
 forth, to do — he knew not what, but there appeared 
 to be a niche in destiny left vacant for him. 
 
 These vague aspirations might have at last died 
 away, as has been so often the case, had they not 
 found fuel. Gates had attached himself in a parti- 
 cular manner to the young novice. He laboured 
 also by the subtlest flatteries to worm himself into 
 the rector's good graces; but Van Huysman's cold 
 penetration and knowledge of the world, were not 
 so easily deceived. He conceived a very evident 
 dislike for his new inmate, and seemed to have 
 privately resolved that the term of liis probation 
 should be that of his residence in the college. 
 
 It was otherwise with the unsophisticated novdce.
 
 206 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 Brother Titus soon managed to overcome tlie aver- 
 sion wHch lie had at first found in Mervyn, and 
 to twine himself insidiously into his confidence. 
 Against all prohibition and rules, he lent him works 
 which it was httle less than treason to introduce 
 into the college — novels of a profligate age, which 
 seemed to have lost even that phantom of mo- 
 rality, decency. The curiosity of youth induced 
 Mervyn to read these compositions with eagerness, 
 and though his pure mind revolted at the vicious 
 manners dehneated, still there was something but 
 too fascinating in the excitement and glow into 
 w^hich they cast the imagination. Oates's influence 
 was also increased by his talent in describing the 
 world he had left, having acted many parts himself 
 in its stormy drama. 
 
 These narratives, coloured by the vivid fancy of 
 youth, roused the lulled restlessness of Mervyn's 
 nature. He longed to join that brilHant march of 
 men and events, and soon began to regard the mo- 
 nastic walls which enclosed him as a prison, barring 
 out pleasure and glory. 
 
 As Oates's project began to ripen, he increased 
 his artifices to entangle the innocent boy, whom he 
 had apparently taken into training. He infiamed
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 20? 
 
 his discontent by insinuations wliicli "vvere eagerly 
 cauglit at by Mervyn. He dropped hints that he 
 doubted the story of his base parentage ; and as all 
 particulars concerning it were carefully concealed, 
 there was abundant scope for the romantic conjee- 
 tures which he threw out from time to time. He 
 stirred the fanciful mind of the boy with vague 
 hints that he was sprung from a noble source, and 
 that the story which gave him a robber for his 
 father, was invented to cover some iniquitous secret ; 
 and he gradually proceeded to instil a notion that 
 the Jesuits were in some black conspiracy with those 
 who had cheated him of his inheritance, and to re- 
 present that England was the only place where he 
 was hkely to obtain any information on tliis interest- 
 ing point. 
 
 Oates seemed as well acquainted -with the pohti- 
 cal condition of England at the period, as if he had 
 made it a peculiar study, and he knew how to dress 
 out his information in an attractive garb. Mervyn 
 was both amused and excited by the description 
 which he gave, though without any formed pur- 
 pose or notion why he took such pleasure in them. 
 
 *' And do you see, brother," said Oates one day, 
 as they walked alone in the gardens of the convent
 
 208 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 — " do you see — a stirring worid mil there be soon 
 in England. The Jesuits liave concealed every 
 thing from you, though they mean to use you as a 
 blind instrument. Tliey have a vast plot whereby 
 tliey mean to bring back arbitrary government and 
 popery — I mean our holy Cathohc faith. Tliey 
 have gained the king secretly, and the Duke of 
 York is a notorious papist. The ministers are a 
 base and bloodthirsty set, who will do any tiling to 
 preserve favoiu', and keep their enemies on the cold 
 benches. But there are many in England who 
 would rather see all in confusion again than lose 
 their precious religion and hberties. Yea, the old 
 leaven of Cromwell is still fermenting in the masses, 
 and what an angel from heaven, what a second Sal- 
 vator Mundi would he be who could, and would, 
 expose tliis wicked plot — I mean that Jesuitical plot 
 — which is afoot. Neither would he lack powerful 
 friends and men of great quaUty to back him. 
 There's all my Lord Shaftesbury's party, and the 
 fine- old republicans, who hold their lives as cheap 
 in the balance of England's good ; — not to mention 
 that fierce and turbulent commonalty of London, 
 which wants but a leader to show itself mighty as 
 under the Roundliead parliament. But it were a
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 20^ 
 
 bold man sliould lead them ! He must not pause or 
 pant, or, like ill-trained bloodhounds, they would de- 
 vour their own master." 
 
 " But our fathers — if indeed they have any such 
 plan — are too politic men to be easily baffled," said 
 Mervyn. 
 
 *'Ay, there it is!" repKed Gates. "But I do 
 think, if a man could by any chance get to see the 
 correspondence which the rector carries on perpe- 
 tually with England, it would need small explanation 
 to understand how things are going." 
 
 " Perhaps not," said Mervyn; "but doubtless| 
 brother, these things are concealed for good reasons." 
 " And yet I marvel that you, who are constantly 
 closeted with Van Huysman — who must so often be 
 left alone with these precious documents — have 
 never had the curiosity to examine into the secrets 
 they contain?" said Gates, carelessly. 
 
 "Now Heaven forbid I should chime into the 
 tune of my birth, by such meanness !" rephed Mer- 
 vyn, colouring. " And if this great plan be indeed 
 formed, it becomes both you and me, as true ser- 
 vants of the church, to forward it with our Kfe's 
 blood, and perform in silence whatever is enjoined 
 by her infalHble authority." 
 VOL. I. P
 
 210 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 " No doubt, no doubt," replied Gates, wltli one of 
 his ugly smiles. " But liow know you, brother, but 
 that those letters may contain some inklings of your 
 true birth and stolen inheritance? — those especially 
 which pass between Van Huysman and the Ge- 
 neral? — Bah! if I were you, and had such occa- 
 sion given me, I would look over those documents, 
 with proper prudence — and then if you report their 
 contents to me, I may be able to dive deeper into 
 these mysteries than your iimocence permits you." 
 
 " I had rather die as I have lived — a beggar, de- 
 pendant for existence — than be guilty of such be- 
 trayaL" replied Mervyn, indignantly. 
 
 Gates laughed it off, as he generally did when he 
 found himself baffled, and quietly turned the con- 
 versation into some other channel. But he had laid 
 the iirst stones of the foundation on which he hoped 
 to erect his future superstructure of cunning and 
 guilt, and lie determined not to forego his plans at 
 the first unfavourable symptom in the soil on which 
 his proposed building was to rest.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 2 1 1 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE TEMPTER. 
 
 Although this proposal of Gates shook Mervyn's 
 growing good opinion of him, he soon recovered his 
 ground, with one so ignorant of the world, and of its 
 wickedness and artifice. 
 
 Meanwhile Van Huysman viewed tliis intimacy, 
 and indeed all his new guest's movements, with sus- 
 picion. Certain facts, which could not elude his 
 keen observation, very soon induced him to order 
 Mervyn to cease associating with brother Titus, and 
 to convey information to the latter, that he must hold 
 himself in readiness to quit the college as soon as a 
 p 2
 
 212 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 reply could arrive to liis demand to that effect from 
 Rome. 
 
 This prohibition appeared to Mervyn, and was re- 
 presented by Gates, as an act of intolerable tyranny ; 
 and the youth's compassion was excited by observing 
 the state of excommunication in which his friend 
 was shortly placed. He was not allowed to converse 
 with any of the scholars ; he dined at a sohtary table 
 in the hall, and was treated in all respects as one out 
 of the pale. 
 
 Gates appeared to bear this with great patience, 
 secretly harvesting his revenge. But Mervyn's heart 
 was touched with the seeming injustice, and he took 
 private opportunities of assuring brother Titus of 
 his continued sympathy and regard. But even these 
 stolen interviews became suspected, and Van Huys- 
 man strictly commanded him not to speak to Gates, 
 whom he now openly designated as a crafty spy. 
 
 Matters were in this state when Van Huysman 
 was summoned to Paris, to attend a meeting of the 
 order, which was to discuss certain important mea- 
 sures. The rector exacted a promise from Mervyn 
 that he would not speak to Gates during liis absence ; 
 informing liim, at the same time, that on his return
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 213 
 
 that worthy would be expelled, for certain offences 
 which he had committed against the rules of the 
 order. The better to secure liis pledge, Van Huys- 
 man ordered his pupil to keep in his private cabinet, 
 except at meal-times, and to employ himself there in 
 translating a homily of St. Chrysostom, which he 
 knew would occupy him until his return. 
 
 Unhappily Oateshad already lent Mervyn a book, 
 wliich, from its being at once so celebrated, and so 
 strictly forbidden in the college, that it stood in the 
 library chained and padlocked to the shelves, had 
 always been an object of great curiosity to him — the 
 novels of Boccaccio. The exquisite style of this 
 work, the fascination of its inflammatory descriptions, 
 the brilliant satire, even the boldness with which 
 the licentious Italian assailed all that he had been 
 accustomed to revere, took a forcible hold of the 
 youth's imagination. Although, in the severe and 
 intellectual order to which he belonged, Mervyn 
 had never observed any of the scandals wliich form 
 the staple of Boccaccio's satires on the monks of his 
 time, still it seemed strange to him that in the period 
 of her greatest grandeur and prosperity, such rotten- 
 ness should be at the very heart of the church. 
 This shook the foundation of all his behefs ; which
 
 214 CHAKLES THE SECOND. 
 
 was precisely tlie effect, coupled vrith. tlie awakening 
 influence of the passionate poetry of Boccaccio's le- 
 ii'ends on tlie dormant emotions of liis youtliful 
 nature, that Gates had calculated on producing. 
 Mers'yn's romantic temperament was flattered at 
 every turn by some sweet melody of hope and love. 
 The hideous prejudices of the world, which had long 
 glared at him like the heads of the hydra, seemed 
 utterly annihilated. Love conquered and subdued 
 ev^ry thing; the obstacles of birth and fortune va- 
 nished at the mere touch of his roseate fingers. All 
 the cares and vicissitudes of Hfe, the stormiest turns 
 of fate, were but matters for a midsummer revery, 
 or an enchanting and musical tale told to the mur- 
 mur of waterfalls, and dim voluptuous strains that 
 came and went like the breezes that brought them, 
 no man knew whence nor whither. 
 
 With this sealed book in his possession, still 
 Mers^yn was obliged to use the greatest caution in 
 reading it, and liis apprehensions of discovery per- 
 haps increased his relish. The present opportunity 
 seemed to him irresistible, and he abandoned himself 
 to the delicious perusal. Depending a great deal 
 on the facility with which he usually performed his 
 tasks, Mervvn continued to read and read, until in-
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 215 
 
 formation that the rector was expected much sooner 
 than he had calculated, fell like a thunderbolt in the 
 midst of his enjoyments. He was obliged imme- 
 diately to apply liimself with great vigour to the 
 homily of St. Chrysostom, which he fomid much 
 longer than he expected; and to finish his task he 
 found it necessary to continue it after the college 
 hours; but as no lamps were allowed, this was suf- 
 ficiently difficult. Unluckily he recollected that 
 Gates had a little taper and flint which he often used 
 himself, and he shppcd a piece of paper into his 
 hand, requesting liim to lend them. Gates com- 
 plied instantly, and with a look so expressive, that 
 though much puzzled by it, Mervyn saw that his 
 friend understood much more in his words than 
 their simple meaning. 
 
 Dreading the severity of his preceptor, who, he 
 now learned, was expected home early in the morn- 
 ing, Mervyn appHed himself to his task with ner- 
 vous trepidation and haste, and certainly took little 
 heed of the niceties of the great father's Greek. It 
 was growing late, and his toils were far from finished ; 
 tlie moon, which was very bright, shone in upon 
 him and his papers as he sat pale and exhausted, — 
 half quenching the rays of his taper. The college
 
 216 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 was profoundly quiet, tlie whole society having re- 
 tired to rest, and no sound was audible but the 
 sighing ani waving of the trees in an orchard im- 
 mediately adjoining. Mervyn felt a deep shadow 
 of melancholy steahng over him, and once or twice 
 tears gushed to his eyes, and fell on the paper which 
 he was elaborately covering. The silence and re- 
 pose of the night gave his fevered spirits pause for 
 reflection, and he began to repent that he had ever 
 listened to Oates's advice, and forfeited the sweet 
 peace of conscience which he had once enjoyed. 
 The strictness of his education caused him to imagine 
 that the faults he had committed were of the black- 
 est dye, inasmuch as he had broken a solemn com- 
 mand of the church. A sensation of superstitious 
 fear crept over him, and he almost imagined he 
 beheld the Evil One himself at the moment when, 
 raising his eyes suddenly, he encountered the sinister 
 gaze of Oates, fixed upon him. 
 
 " Sancta Maria! how art thou here?" he ex- 
 claimed, for it was no longer possible to keep his 
 pledge to the Jesuit. 
 
 "Hush! make no noise! — ^have you discovered 
 any thing?" said Oates, eagerly.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 217 
 
 *' Discovered any thing ! In Heaven's name, wKat 
 do you mean?" 
 
 "Among tlie papers — among tlie papers! "ex- 
 claimed Oates, clutcliing up his manuscript, — " any 
 thing I mean about your birth, or — the ploats of 
 these Jesuits?" 
 
 " These papers, Mr. Oates, are but a translation 
 from St. Clirysostom," replied Mervyn, angrily. 
 " I know not what you mean, but I advise you to 
 return to your own apartment instantly." 
 
 *' Bah, bah! — a homily?" said Oates in a disap- 
 pointed tone. " You are a calf to make no better 
 use of such golden opportunities. Tut! — is yon 
 the casket where he keeps these choice letters of 
 his? — Who knows! — it may contain some marvel- 
 lous particulars of your birth. You may be a king's 
 son, for aught I know." 
 
 " It is locked; and if it were not, I would defend 
 it with my Hfe," rephed Mervyn. 
 
 *'Bah! bah! you rave, my young sprig," said 
 Oates, turning sharply. " You dare not, boy ! — 
 you are in my power." 
 
 As he said this, he advanced towards an escritoir 
 of massive oak, highly carved and pohshed, wliich
 
 218 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 he looked at for some minutes with great curiosity, 
 at the same time feehng it round the lid. 
 
 " He hath them well secured; the contents must 
 needs be valuable," he said with much unction. 
 " We will examine them, Mervyn, but he shall 
 not suspect either of us. He shall think he forgot 
 to lock this casket of his." 
 
 And brother Titus suddenly produced a bunch of 
 skeleton keys, with one of which he twisted the lock 
 open, and threw back the lid. The vista of letters 
 carefully packed and endorsed, which was thus re- 
 vealed, seemed to kindle his eyes as gold might a 
 miser's. 
 
 " Come hither, Mervyn dear, come hither," he 
 exclaimed; "doubtless, the great secret of your 
 birth is here — quick, despatch ! — open some while I 
 examine these." 
 
 *' On your peril touch not one, Oates I" said the 
 boy, springing forward and seizing his arm. 
 
 " What, boy, would you have me murder you?" 
 said brother Titus, his countenance flaming up like 
 a demon's. " I should be loth to hurt you, child, 
 because I have uses for you; but I have cut a 
 tougher throat than yours ere now."
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 219 
 
 " You dare not, Gates — ^you are not sucli a mon- 
 strous ruffian !" said Mervyn, vehemently. " But 
 you shall not read these papers, though I die to 
 hinder you." 
 
 " Pooh, pooh, fool ! why would you stand in your 
 own light?" continued brother Titus, more mildly. 
 " Go on with your homily, if your sickly conscience 
 will not let you aid in the work, and leave me to 
 manage this stuff. Ha, what's this? letters from 
 Master Coleman, the duke's secretary?" 
 
 " Leave the papers alone, Gates, or whatever be 
 the consequence, I will summon assistance !" said 
 Mervyn, resolutely tearing the letter from liis friend's 
 hand. 
 
 "\\niythen, I must do a desperate tiling," ex- 
 claimed Gates, groping his hand in his doublet 
 pocket. 
 
 " What will you do. Gates?" said Mervyn, turn- 
 ing pale and Ms heart beating thickly, for he thought 
 he saw the gleam of a knife in Gates's pocket. 
 
 "Do! do notliing; but I must have these pa- 
 pers," said Gates in an altered tone, and withdraw- 
 ing his hand from the weapon. " I love thee, boy, 
 and would make thy fortune ; and there is that in 
 these papers will do it for us both. Read here,
 
 220 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 child, read here — from the duke's secretary, I tell 
 you. 'Tis a pious robbery; we shall pluck out the 
 heart of this popish and royal conspiracy !" 
 
 " Once more and for the last time, begone and 
 leave these papers unread, or I call for help!" ex- 
 claimed Mervyn, with a fierceness and energy on 
 which Oates had evidently not calculated. 
 
 " Unhand me, imp I" he said, shaking his grasp 
 loose. " And utter but one word more, much less 
 call out, and I'll Hush, what is that?" 
 
 *' Some one is coming !" said Mervyn. " I hear 
 steps. Do, dear Oates, begone; if they discover 
 us " 
 
 " They are in the corridor; we cannot escape 1" 
 replied the brother, staring aghast at Mervyn. 
 " Put these away — ^put out the candle — stay, I'll 
 hide this in my pocket. Now for the desk — what 
 a cursed chance !" 
 
 Steps were now heard coming up the corridor, 
 and a voice wliich brought the tliick dew to Mer- 
 vyn's brow. Tliey looked at each other with an 
 expression of guilty alarm, wliich Mervyn shared, 
 though he scarce knew why, and then both began 
 hurriedly thrusting the papers back again. But 
 •unhappily, in the confusion of haste, Mervyn stum-
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 22t 
 
 bled over a footstool, and fell with considerable noise 
 on tlie ground. The door was instantly opened; a 
 voice demanded, " Who is here at this time of 
 night?" and the stately figure and severe counte- 
 nance of Van Huysman appeared, Hghted by two 
 monks who carried torches. 
 
 Oates's first idea was to make a rush, but the 
 cowardice of his nature banished the idea as soon as 
 formed, and he stood Hvid and trembhng beside the 
 violated escritoir. 
 
 " Ha, what is this? My desk forced — my papers 
 scattered about ! Gates, Mervyn — alone — at mid- 
 night !" exclaimed Van Huysman, turning pale too. 
 " How is this, brother? Tell me instantly." 
 
 " We — we — found the desk open, and out of cu- 
 riosity — out of curiosity merely," said Gates, stam- 
 meringly. 
 
 " Mervyn, my son ! can this be true? is this pos- 
 sible?" said Van Huysman, in a voice husky with 
 emotion. " A taper too — with this vile man — my 
 most precious papers thrown about! Wretched 
 l^oy^ yo^ liave indeed proved yourself to be the 
 true son of a robber !" 
 
 *' I — I — ," began Mervyn, but overcome by shame
 
 222 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 and despair, he sobbed convulsively, and uttered not 
 an intelligible word. 
 
 " How did you procure this taper, boy? and 
 what book is this? — Boccaccio !" 
 
 " As for the taper, he had it from me, and for 
 this purpose !" said Gates, boldly. " He as well as I 
 suspect that he is of noble birth, kept here for some 
 villanous intent, and we intended to examine these 
 papers to learn the truth, when your abrupt entrance 
 disturbed us." 
 
 " Is this true, Mervyn?" said Van Huysman. in a 
 tone of sorrow and anger so mingled, that it was 
 impossible to tell which preponderated. 
 
 " It is a lie, a monstrous lie, and you know it. 
 Gates," exclaimed the boy. 
 
 " What, brother, did I not lend you a taper, and 
 did we not agTce to search this cabinet together? 
 Wliy, there are the skeleton keys, which you told 
 me you borrowed of the blacksmith of St. Gmer — 
 there, in the folds of your mantle." 
 
 Which was the case, for he had dexterously shpped 
 the keys into the boy's dress, directly he heard the 
 footsteps approach. 
 
 '* It is true, indeed, unhappy boy ! but he who rears
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 223- 
 
 a tiger must expect to be torn to pieces," said Van 
 Huysman, shaking the keys out of Mervyn's mantle. 
 *' Retire both of you to your cells, and to-morrow 
 I mil hold a chapter to determine on what punish- 
 ment is fit for the destroyer and misleader of youtli, 
 and the criminal folly of youth itself Brothers, see 
 that every outlet be well secured, and convey tliese 
 conspirators to their apartments." 
 
 *' Father, do you — do you condemn me unheard?'* 
 exclaimed Mervyn, in an agony of grief. 
 
 " You are heard, sir, look around!" returned the 
 Jesuit, seating himself and clasping his hands. Then 
 raising his eyes to Heaven, he exclaimed, " Be thy 
 will done ! the last hold I had on earthly affections 
 is torn from me !" 
 
 Mervyn was taken to his cell by one of the 
 monks, with a heart swollen ahnost to bursting, but 
 too proud to make any further attempt at justifica- 
 tion. Gates was also taken to his dormitory, not 
 without a smile of malicious triumph at his young 
 victim. Van Huysman then proceeded to gather 
 up his papers, and to ascertain if any were miss- 
 ing, debating in his own mind the possibihties of 
 Mervyn's innocence, and what punishment it would
 
 224 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 be necessary to inflict. Unfortunately lie was so 
 deeply involved in tliis latter train of tliouglits tliat 
 he did not miss, until it was too late, a packet which 
 Gates had secured, which was of the most import- 
 ant nature. 
 
 Mervyn was meanwhile abandoned to his reflec- 
 tions, in the silence and solitude of his cell, where 
 the monk left him after a brief but sharp lecture, 
 to which he replied not a word. He then threw 
 himself on his pallet, where he lay in a state of 
 moody desperation for nearly two hours. All the 
 desolation and helplessness of his condition rushed 
 upon him; his orphan childhood, deserted by all 
 who should have loved and cherished him; his 
 hopeless dependance ; the irresistible force of the ap- 
 pearances against him ; the shame which awaited 
 him before those proud nobles, who would rejoice in 
 the humiliation of the roturier; — all these thoughts 
 combined nearly drove him frantic ; and still the 
 calm and lovely moonhght, as if mocking his misery, 
 flowed through the narrow casement of his cell, fill- 
 ing it with shadowy hght. The extremes of joy and 
 sorrow ahke make men indifl^erent to death; for in such 
 moments it seems as if all the objects of existence 
 were filled and cloyed, and that to hve longer were
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 225 
 
 only to occupy a dreary vacancy in thought and 
 feeling. Mervyn was almost astonished at his own 
 hardness when he found he could not weep, but sat 
 with dry eyes gazing around, and all but wisliing 
 he had some means of self-destruction, by which to 
 escape the unutterable ignominy which he thought 
 awaited liim. 
 
 This gloomy rcvcry was disturbed by the sudden 
 creaking of his door, and turning, not without a hope 
 that it might be Van Huysman, he beheld the short 
 clumsy figure of Gates, wrapped in a dark cassock, 
 and seemingly tightly strapped up with divers little 
 packages, as if for a journey. He entered with a 
 stealthy step, putting his finger to his lips, and 
 carrying his shoes in his hand, as if to move more 
 noiselessly. Mervyn would have spoken, and pro- 
 bably in no very complimentary tone, but Gates 
 whispered, "For your own sake, speak not !" and 
 closed the door carefully after him. 
 
 " What do you want with me, \'illain ! have you 
 your knife?" said Merv^yn, recklessly. " Murder 
 me if you like — I do not care — you have already 
 slain my noblest part, my honour I" 
 
 " I come to save you, foohsh boy," said Gates, 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 CHIELES THE SECOND. 
 
 qiiicMy. " What is honour? The skin of an onion — 
 peel off one and there's another below. To be sure 
 you have no longer an honour in St. Omer, but 
 there's one spick and span new for you in England, 
 whither I am going. Will you accompany me? 
 Choose !" 
 
 "But how! it is impossible?"" said Mervyn, 
 eagerly. 
 
 *' By no means, not at all,Vhen a man flies from 
 such a bad possibiHty, or rather certainty," said 
 Oates. " For ensample, it is certain that to-morrow 
 you and I are to be publicly examined, condemned, 
 shamed before these sanctified hypocrites, and these 
 young sneering gentry, who will hiss us to death mth 
 scorn. Flight is our only resource; flight, and to 
 England ! There the mystery of your birth may be 
 solved, or you may acquire such renown as will hide 
 it in a blaze of glory. I have friends in England 
 who will protect you for my sake : dare you accom- 
 pany me ?" 
 
 " I have no money, no friends, no hope in the 
 world !" exclaimed Mervyn. 
 
 '^ I have all, and you shall share them," said 
 Oates, clinking a well-stocked purse in Mervyn *s
 
 CHAELES THE SECOXD. 227 
 
 ear. '' I tell you it in secresy, and because I know 
 you cannot betray me — tlie Lord Shaftesbuiy is my 
 protector, my patron, and shall be yours." 
 
 *' But how can we escape ?^^ said Mervyn. 
 
 *' Leave that to me; do but follow; every moment 
 is precious," replied Titus. 
 
 " But these garbs will betray us wherever we are 
 seen ; we shall be brought back with shame V^ 
 
 "No, no, I tell you ! we will give out that we 
 are novices exercising our month's hmnihty by beg- 
 ging ere we profess," repHed Oates, very eagerly. 
 " In short, cither foUow me, or stay behind to suffer 
 all the shame and dishonour which can be heaped 
 on human head by priestly maHce." 
 
 *' Oh," said Mervjni, " I know not whether to fly 
 or stay be the worse part to take.'' 
 
 *' Flight at least escapes shame, pubHc shame ! 
 Will you stay to be the butt of these sarcasmous 
 young nobles, to whom justice and mercy are equally 
 strangers?" rephed Oates. 
 
 This suggestion gave Mervyn the strength of 
 heart and energy of purpose which he lacked. 
 When the mind is in such a state of doubt, swayed 
 to and fro by a thousand different and opposing 
 motives and feelings, a single bold word or asser- 
 Q2
 
 228 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 tion is often sufficient to fix the balance — at least 
 so long as to produce a degree of action which 
 forces on its own conclusion. Besides, he was too 
 much hurried, confused, and tossed in mind, by fears 
 and conjectures full of terror, to reason calmly on 
 the dangerous step he was about to take. He as-^ 
 sented, therefore, hastily; seized the few articles 
 which Gates suggested, and also the cross which 
 the padre had given him, and in a few moments he 
 was following that worthy on tiptoe down the dark 
 corridor. 
 
 Gates led the way breathlessly back to his own 
 cell, and motioning Mervyn to follow his example, 
 got on a stool, opened the lattice, and pushed him- 
 self with slight difficulty out, dropping some few 
 feet into the garden below. Mervyn then, at his 
 desire, threw a bundle after him, and easily fol- 
 lowed. 
 
 Tliey were now in the garden of the convent, 
 which was richly cultivated, and seemed balmy and 
 beautiful as a mimic Eden, under the serene light 
 of the moon. Mervyn looked sadly round, and 
 the sweet dewy scent of the flowers seemed hke the 
 voices of famiHar friends, imploring him not to desert 
 them for ever. He looked up at the Httlc oriel win-
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 229 
 
 dow of Van Huysman's closet, wHcli was liigli in 
 the dark pile of building, and perceived a light still 
 burning in it, by which he knew that the father had 
 not gone to rest. Compunctious visitings of remorse 
 strained hard at his heart, and recollections of what 
 a blow his conduct would inflict on him and on the 
 venerable Oliva, almost unnerved his resolution. 
 But it was too late to repent. Oates commanded 
 him to hasten, in a tone of harsh control, such as he 
 had never yet ventured to use, and dragged rather 
 than led him through a Httle orchard which con- 
 ducted to the walls enclosin;]^ the convent cjrounds. 
 These walls, though of considerable height, were 
 densely clothed in ivy, so that they easily clam- 
 bered to the top, dropped deftly down, and immedi- 
 ately set forward at a very rapid rate on the road to 
 Calais.
 
 230 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 WHIGS IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTUEY. 
 
 It is not necessary to follow our fugitives step by 
 step to England. Tliey found few obstacles, and 
 none wliicli Oates's cunning or cash did not obviate. 
 They procured a passage in a Dutcli trader, and 
 landed on a briglit summer's morning at Wapping, 
 a district purposely cliosen by Gates as the most 
 suitable to his objects. 
 
 As it was by no means safe to appear among the 
 puritan population of London in a Jesuit garb, Gates 
 chano-ed it immediately an opportunity offered after 
 landing. He then ordered Mervyn to follow, in the
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 231 
 
 tone of a master addressing his servant, or rather 
 slave, and set off to a quarter on the river side, in- 
 habited principally by Jews and old salesmen. In- 
 deed, during the whole voyage, Mervyn had re- 
 marked a wonderful change come over his compa- 
 nion's manners, not gradually, but from the very first 
 moment in which he had trusted himself so fooHshly 
 to his protection. All his hypocritical softness, his 
 ilatterings and cajohngs, had changed into a harsh 
 imperious insolence, which every moment revolted 
 Mer^'yn's proud spirit. But bitterly as he began to re- 
 pent the step he had taken, the youth felt that it was 
 too late to retract, and that moneyless and friendless 
 as he was, he had no resource but to submit, at least 
 imtil he saw some feasible means of extrication. 
 
 Gates probably guessed that some such ideas were 
 passing in his mind, for he looked round at times 
 with a watchful eye, and as they plunged deeper into 
 the dark mazes of the shore, he seemed to relax his 
 new-blown dignity. At last he called Mervyn to 
 him, and affably leaning on his shoulder, asked him 
 how he Hked London, and whether it seemed to him 
 so gorgeous a city as he had imagined. Mervyn 
 frankly allowed that nothing satisfied liis expectations 
 except the river, crowded with its forests of masts, and
 
 232 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 seeming to unload the treasures of tlie whole eaith 
 on its wharfs. 
 
 *' You will live to see a more splendid portion of 
 the city of London," said Gates, with a grin. " This 
 city is the Sodom of the west, which God's great 
 judgments of plague and fire have in vain striven 
 to cleanse. And even as the shores of this great 
 city are foul and unseemly to look at, so are the be- 
 ginnings of thy fortunes, which are now on the anvil 
 of destiny ; for being freed from these accursed 
 paupistical trammels, you have only to bear a wit- 
 ness before men in His cause, to obtain all earthly 
 and Heavenly rewards." 
 
 " Pray you, brother Titus, wdiat mean you?" said 
 Mervyn, puzzled with this new and ponderous style. 
 
 *' Never dare to call me by that idolatrous title 
 again, boy I" said Gates, fiercely. " I am Doctor Titus 
 Gates, a humble professor of the Christian evangele of 
 the church of England." But observing that Mer- 
 vyn looked at him with a remarkable expression, he 
 added more mildly, ** Nathless. take courage, boy ; 
 fight the good fight, and your crown shall be ever- 
 lasting light. I do intend, and that presently, to 
 lead you before the great and generous loard 
 whereof I spoke."
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 233 
 
 Mervyn made no reply, but these words broke a 
 confused light into his mind, and he began to ima- 
 gine that brother Titus was but a wolf in sheep's 
 clothing, and that he had been lured from the flock 
 for no very advantageous purposes, wdiich, however, 
 he could not yet clearly divine. Absorbed in very 
 unpleasant revery, he followed Oates in all his 
 meanders through the dingy alleys sm-rounding the 
 Tower, mitil they arrived at a broker's, with whom 
 Oates seemed well acquainted. Here they purchased 
 some very decent second-hand apparel, which Oates 
 cheapened to ahnost half the price demanded. He 
 purchased for himself a costume which Mervyn at 
 first did not understand, but which he afterwards 
 knew was that of a doctor of divinity. It consisted 
 of a black gown, a plain collar, waistband, and cap 
 mth ears, all cut in the most formal and stifi" style 
 possible. Mervyn had a suit of very sombre colours, 
 fit for an apprentice in a puritannical family of the 
 period, when not only the broad distinctions between 
 citizen and courtier were exhibited in the style of 
 dress, but almost every shade of reHgious opinion 
 was so indicated. 
 
 Thus handsomely fitted out, Oates no longer 
 avoided the great thoroughfares, but took his way
 
 234 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 through tlie heart of the busthng city. Mervyn 
 was dehghted and dazzled by the splendour and 
 riches wliich burst for the first time on liis monastic 
 eyes, and gazed in silent bewilderment at the glit- 
 tering wares, the curious signs over the shops and 
 booths, the dark-clad burghers moving with solemn 
 pride through their wealthy marts, and richly bedi- 
 zened courtiers raffling it haughtily past. The very 
 ser\dng-men in their flaunting liveries shared his 
 admiration, and even the sad-coloured garbs of the 
 puritans, and other sorrowful reHcs of the Cromwel- 
 lian times, by wliich they were less distinguished 
 than by their long hard-boned visages, excited his 
 eager cunosity. 
 
 The city, as we now emphatically call it, was only 
 beginning to lose its palmy dignity as the royal re- 
 sidence, and was still the haunt of fashion as of 
 commerce. The enormous warehouses had not yet 
 usurped the ghttering Hne of shops and party-co- 
 loured booths, where all that wealth and luxury 
 could demand were collected by the toils of half the 
 globe. Tlie palaces of the nobihty were mingled, as 
 in the middle ages, with the merchants' marts, and 
 the Tower itself was occasionally honoured by the 
 presence of the king and court. Consequently, the
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 235 
 
 scenes they now traversed were full of objects likely 
 to kindle and gratify tlie curiosity of a boy like 
 Men-^Ti, educated in sucli seclusion. Every gilded 
 coach, as it rolled past with, its pageantry of hanging 
 and running footmen, raised his admiration, and 
 many a wild romance shaped itself in his fancy, as 
 the rich sedan, carefully closed, bore its burden 
 past, or some masked beauty tripped Hghtly from 
 it, followed by her stalwart footmen with their 
 gilded wands. 
 
 Tliese agreeable objects quickly chased Mervyn's 
 gloomy anticipations, and splendid A^isions, such as 
 he had dreamed at St. Omer, succeeded in rainbow- 
 coloured masses. Tliis illusion was broken by the 
 harsh tones of liis conductor, who bade liim sud- 
 denly halt; and looking up, he foimd himself before 
 a huge, irregular pile of buildings extending a great 
 distance down a court to liis right, and facing Al- 
 dersgate-street. This, as Gates briefly explained, 
 was Tlianet House, the residence of the Earl of 
 Shaftesbury, whom the court accused of fixing liis 
 abode there to carry on a more uninterrupted inter- 
 course with the city, then the great strength of the 
 Wliig or country party. Gates knocked, and a tall 
 porter in very rich Hvery made his appearance ; he
 
 236 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 inquired if his lordship was at home " to a humble 
 servant of the suffering church, Dr. Gates." The 
 porter replied that the earl had visiters with him, 
 but that he doubted not his reverence would be wel- 
 come; and he commissioned a lackey to inquire, 
 wliile another guided the doctor and Mervyn into a 
 waiting-room, wdiere they were left. 
 
 At the period at which our story has now arrived, 
 the great masses of the people Avere firmly persuaded 
 that a laborious policy, or rather conspiracy, was at 
 work, to consummate the ruin of the constitution and 
 of the protestant church, by introducing popery, as it 
 was called, and arbitrary government, on the detested 
 model of France. 
 
 This conviction had obtained a deep and settled 
 possession of the pubHc mind, and, as subsequent 
 events proved, it was but too well founded. Tlie 
 poHtical horizon w^as black with the impending tem- 
 pest, though no man could with certainty predict 
 from what point it would burst. But Gates, or 
 rather the great party which used him as its instru- 
 ment, had long since decided that it should be from 
 that quarter wliich would collect again all the scat- 
 tered thunderbolts of the commonwealth, and lash 
 to madness that wild ocean of fanaticism wliich had
 
 CHAELES THE SECO^'D. 237 
 
 SO long slumbered as ifbeneatli tlie wand of an en- 
 chanter. And this lightning Tvas to be brought 
 down from Heaven itself. ReHgion, which had 
 broken so many chains, was again to be invoked 
 from her starry throne, to wave the sword and the 
 torch over mankind. 
 
 Different and even opposed as were the wishes 
 and intentions of the various existing factions, all 
 were united on certain great points by the skill and 
 energy of a great poHtical leader, a man born to be 
 the master spirit of a stormy crisis, such as that which 
 was fast approaching. The " false Achitopher' of 
 Dryden, that Shaftesbury whose name seems the 
 t}^e of the bold, restless, MachiaveUian poHcy which 
 sprung from the sanguinary school of Richeheu, and 
 adapting itself to the milder forms of the age, still 
 did not scruple to employ violent means mider a 
 darker disguise — Shaftesbury was at tliis period the 
 great idol of popularity, the head of the parha- 
 mentary opposition to Charles, the centre of all the 
 intrigues against the government. His talents, 
 reckless daring, and unscrupulous morahty, his per- 
 sonal hatred of the king and his brother, eminently 
 quahfied him for the tempestuous pilotage he had 
 assumed ; and his keen sarcastic wit, vehement ora-
 
 238 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 tory, and perfect knowledge of the men and motives 
 of his time, rendered liim almost unique as a popular 
 leader. Tlie insults and wrongs he had suffered from 
 the court, which had only used him as a tool, his de- 
 gradation from the chancellorship which he had held 
 with high reputation, and his recent imprisonment 
 in the Tower, had raised him, in spite of his many 
 shiftings and changes, to the rank of a popular mar- 
 tyr, and at the same time exasperated liis inborn 
 restlessness and impatience of control mth the venom 
 of personal and rancorous mahgnity. 
 
 The real wishes and objects of Shaftesbury are 
 still a mystery, for they were so multifarious and 
 changeable that no man can with certainty judge 
 them, even in the silence of all those great passions 
 and interests which have gone to repose with the 
 turbulent generation that bred them. That he de- 
 sired to see no power greater than his own is pro- 
 bable, for it was impossible for him to rest under 
 any yoke; and the commonwealth men, the broken 
 soldiery and discontented repubHcans of the Crom- 
 well era, looked at liim as their leader in the fierce 
 strife for which they were silently bracing their 
 loins. 
 
 On the other hand the moderate party, who
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 239 
 
 wished to see a monarcliical but strictly constitu- 
 tional government in England, followed Shaftes- 
 bury's counsels with blind zeal ; and the still smaller 
 faction, who chose the young Duke of Monmouth 
 as their head, and aspired to tlirust him on the 
 tlirone, also regarded him as their cliief support. 
 The principles of his youth, and the destructive ten- 
 dencies of his own impetuous character, inclined 
 Shaftesbury to the re-estabHshment of the republic; 
 but a still more absorbing hatred of the Duke of 
 York, whom he beUeved to be the author of liis 
 disgrace, incHned him to support the pretensions of 
 the Duke's hated rival. 
 
 The dreamers and enthusiasts of the old rcliojious 
 parties who thought to estabhsh a theocracy on 
 earth, in imitation of that of Moses; the wild fana- 
 tics of the fifth monarchy scheme ; the discontented 
 dregs of the royaHsts; and even the timorous and 
 wavering of the Catholic party, were all imited by 
 his singular and Protean art of infusing himself 
 into all men's passions and motives. Thus was 
 constituted a soHd and powerful engine, wielded by 
 the activity of one mind, which finally crushed all 
 resistance ; for the temporary success of Charles II.
 
 240 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 against his parliament was but tlie lull wliich pre- 
 ceded tlie earthquake of 1688. 
 
 It must not be supposed, however, that the clouds 
 which were gathering rose from nought, at the com- 
 mand of a magician, and that the direful phantas- 
 magoria which was shortly to be made "vdsible by 
 the fiendish glare of Oates's discoveries, were merely 
 chimeras and shadows of unsubstantial horrors. A 
 plot no doubt existed, though not in the sense and 
 form given to it by the authors and supporters of 
 the popish plot ; it was a plan or conspiracy ha\ing 
 for its object the overthrow of the great heresy 
 wliich had so long rent the church, and the restora- 
 tion of the dominion of the ancient religion. The 
 impossibility of accomplishing this object with a 
 free parhament, and without the assistance of mili- 
 tary power, was the reason which, no doubt, in- 
 duced the Jesuits to embrace the idea of establish- 
 ing an arbitrary government as the basis of their 
 operations. The general and cstabhshed opinion 
 of their intentions furnished Oates, and his fellow- 
 monsters, with the ground -work of their plot, and 
 took away all defence and disproof from the go- 
 vernment, which neither dared nor could impugn
 
 CHAELES THE SECOXB. 241 
 
 the imaginary, 'v\-ithout allowing the real conspi- 
 racy. 
 
 It was upon the threshold of these terrible storms 
 of state that Mervyn sat tranquilly and uncon- 
 sciously down, awaiting a summons which, though 
 he knew it not, was the call of his destiny. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 242 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 SHAFTESBURY AND HIS COLLEAGUES. 
 
 The lackey despatched from Gates returned with 
 a promptness which showed that the arrival was one 
 by no means to be sHghted, and desired them to 
 follow to his lordship's presence. They ascended a 
 richly-carved oaken staircase, terminated by a portal 
 of the same materials, which swung open, and re- 
 vealed an extensive library of finely-bound books. 
 This apartment was furnished with massive ele- 
 gance, and ornamented with many articles of virtu. 
 
 In a deep recess, formed by a bay window, was 
 a table, spread with wine and comfits, at which sat 
 three gentlemen one of whom — a small but well-
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 243 
 
 shaped man, very richly dressed, and with a very 
 acute and intellectual cast of physiognomy, illu- 
 mined by an eye of singular brilHancy — rose to 
 greet them as they entered. The other gentlemen 
 kept their seats. One of these was a dull, heavy- 
 looking divine, with a fat credulous face, and two 
 little eyes deeply imbedded in the sockets. The 
 other was evidently a man of great quality, from 
 his dress, which nevertheless had a careless rakish 
 appearance, not contradicted by the worn-out ex- 
 pression of a countenance, once extremely handsome, 
 but now pale and sunken with excess. Tlie extra- 
 vagance of his dress did not, in tliis instance, dazzle 
 Mervyn's judgment, for in the first glance he caught 
 of the stranger, he thought he detected something 
 evil and sinister, which kindled a great disHke in his 
 bosom. 
 
 " Honest, worthy Master Oates, true seeker of the 
 manna, eschewing self, welcome home from St. 
 Omer," exclaimed the earl, shaking Titus's hand 
 with extreme cordiahty. "But softly; we have 
 heard you are dubbed doctor — welcome home then, 
 worthy doctor !" 
 
 " I thank your lordsliip in all humility," replied 
 r2
 
 244 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 Oates, abjectly bending. " I am here in good sootb, 
 and glad to be out of tlie jaws of tlie wliale. But 
 •whom have we here, my loard? — all safe?" 
 
 " Why, Gad-a-mercy, the light dazzles you, bro- 
 ther," said the earl. " See you not?— a true cham- 
 pion of the cause, my Lord Howard of Escrick, and 
 the blessed expounder of the word, whose labours 
 have been crowned with such increase, Dr. Tongue." 
 
 " Ah, Master Oates — what. Dr. Oates — welcome 
 home !" exclaimed both gentlemen, springing eagerly 
 up. Oates and liis recognised friends embraced with 
 seeming heartiness, and mutual recognitions ha^dng 
 taken place, Lord Howard filled a goblet with a 
 trembling hand, which he pushed to Oates, exclaim- 
 ing, '' Drink, boy, drink, and rest thy carcass, and 
 tell us the news." 
 
 '* Ay, sit, good doctor," said Shaftesbury, smil- 
 ing. " I had small hopes to welcome you home so 
 scatheless from the den of wolves — I did fear that 
 even your tough heart might fail in the good but 
 perilous fight." 
 
 " My strength was from above I" replied Oates, 
 meekly. " I glory not in my work, though it be 
 well done ; 'tis none of mine. It was the cause, my
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 24S 
 
 loard — tKe cause of a miglitier than I, wliose slioe- 
 latch I am not worthy to fasten — that supported me 
 through all my trials." 
 
 " Ay, without such holy motives we should never 
 get through half the sin of this world, doctor," said 
 the earl, with a shght sneer. " But have you ga- 
 thered any fuel for the fire — any useful information 
 which may serve to set this ^vronged and deluded 
 nation on its guard?" 
 
 " Know you aught of this most dreadful plot 
 against our Hves and Hberties whereof you warned 
 us, even as a shepherd placed on a high rock shout- 
 ethto the herd on the precipice?" said Dr. Tongue, 
 with an awestruck look at the venerable Titus. 
 
 " Oh, my loard, such a dreadful ploat has not 
 been discovered since wicked Haman's," said Oates, 
 turning his eyes up. " All oiu' throats are to be 
 cut, and the accursed popish superstitious idolatry 
 brought in, over the carcass of Magna Charta and all 
 our hberties." 
 
 " Why then — there vnH be many a rogue the 
 less in a world that can well spare them," said 
 Shaftesbury, with a satirical smile. " But what boy 
 is this, doctor, whom you have brought in your
 
 246 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 skirts and apparently forgotten. Is lie a young pro- 
 phet — your Elislia?'' 
 
 " Nay, my loard, but a poor novice of St. Omer, 
 wliom I have brought over to the true faith, and 
 who is anxious to serve your lordship," repHed 
 Gates. 
 
 *' Marry, Gates, he may be useful in cases that 
 need two witnesses — in the swearing drudgery,'' 
 said the earl, eyeing Mervyn with a penetrating 
 gaze. " Yet, 'slife ! by that proud blush, I doubt 
 you have scarce hit on the right nail. Are you 
 willing to be of service to me, youth ?^' 
 
 " In all matters that may be without prejudice to 
 my rehgion and honour," said Mervyn, sharply and 
 even haughtily, for he was both surprised and dis- 
 gusted with the strange assertion which Gates had 
 made, though he dared not contradict it openly. 
 
 *' Marry, 'tis a lad of mettle — what name may 
 you give him, doctor?" said Lord Howard, who 
 had been gazing for some minutes in deep and 
 gloomy attention at the youth. 
 
 " They call him Mers-yn, a poor chm^ch foimd- 
 iing, son of some wild robber executed at St. Gmer, 
 and indebted to the crafty brothers of the college
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 247 
 
 for life and education," said Titus, with a malignant 
 smile at his victim. 
 
 *' Ay, is it so?" said Howard, his complexion 
 darkening; "I did think — but no matter. He is 
 fitter for our work." And he drew his hand slowly 
 over his brow, as if to wipe away some unpleasant 
 recollection, then turned and swallowed a deep gulp 
 of wine. 
 
 ** Trouble not at thy parentage, youth, '^ said the 
 earl, observing the passions which struggled in Mer- 
 vyn's countenance. " The greatest conquerors that 
 have ever been were but successful robbers of man- 
 kind, and the founders of dynasties have all been 
 traitors to humanity itself Well ! — for the present, 
 Oates, I leave him in your service. I know not 
 where he may better serve a 'prenticeship to mine. 
 And now, man, what new facts have you discovered 
 of tliis royal treason? Is there aught direct against 
 the Duke of York?" 
 
 " Most monstrous certainties, my loard, since I can 
 clearly convict his secretary, Coleman, of a treason- 
 able correspondence with France !" replied Oates, 
 vehemently. 
 
 " The duchess's secretary now,'^ said the earl. 
 " And thereupon I would advise you to be cautious
 
 248 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 how you fill up your great outlines, for it is on little 
 matters tliat great ones hinge, and the discovery of 
 a mistake in the smallest portion of your evidence 
 will furnish your enemies with a battering ram 
 against the whole.'* 
 
 " Trust me, my loard, I shall ever have my crook 
 raised, as one who expects the wolf,'' rephed Oates, 
 with a knowing look. " But here is the brief extract 
 or epitome of that which I have aheady discovered, 
 and will, please God, sartify before the king and 
 mighty of the land, even as holy Daniel in the pre- 
 sence of idolatrous Belshazzar, feasting on gold and 
 purple, and turning the sacred utensils into vessels 
 of abomination and iniquity. But methinks it were 
 not amiss if the young acolyte, seeing he is as it were 
 green and tender in the affairs of this world, do 
 retire to yonder recess, where he may find sweet 
 nutriment for thought in the precious tomes which 
 your loardship's taste and generosity have collected." 
 
 Mervyn gladly took the hint, for he was embar- 
 rassed with the keen observation of Shaftesbury, 
 and bowing shghtly, crossed the room to the spot 
 indicated. It was a richly-carved alcove, separated 
 from the library by long curtains, which might be 
 drawn at pleasure, so as to seclude the inmate, and
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 249 
 
 •was fumished with various luxurious appliances of 
 study. He seated himself at a desk, on which lay an 
 open volume of Lucretius, and seemed to be soon 
 absorbed in the perusal, though from time to time 
 he glanced at the opposite group with involuntary 
 curiosity. 
 
 Gates continued speaking, for his tliick, harsh 
 voice was audible in an uninterrupted course, though 
 the words were not sufficiently clear to make any 
 sense to Mervjm. This was the more provoking, 
 as what he said seemed to excite the most anxious 
 attention in his hearers, and Dr. Tongue's fooHsh 
 face was all agape with amazement. Oates's hypo- 
 critical countenance seemed also the index of a won- 
 drous tale; but as the earl listened, an incredulous 
 smile was lurking on his Hps. Gates then appeared 
 to produce his vouchers, and handed certain letters 
 to his patron, which Mervyn had Httle doubt were 
 part of those stolen at St. Gmer. Shaftesbury took 
 them with avidity, and Mervyn remarked a beam of 
 joy light his sallow countenance as he mminured 
 the contents over to his companions. 
 
 " This indeed strikes home !" he said, rising and 
 stepping forward, as if the restlessness of his ambi- 
 tious nature required even physical action. " Tliis
 
 250 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 indeed strikes home ! — my Lord Howard, wliat say 
 you? Is not here a thunderbolt which, skilfully 
 forged, will waken the nation from its lethargy, and 
 shake the throne of this licentious Jupiter of ours?" 
 
 *' Methinks 'tis high time, now that our rehgion 
 and constitution are in such mortal pass and jeo- 
 pardy," replied his lordship, carelessly. 
 
 " Faith, Howard, for our religion and constitu- 
 tion, methinks they can incur no further damage," 
 said Shaftesbury, smihng. 
 
 *' Verily these tidings "svill summon Israel as with 
 a roar of brazen trumpets and drums," said Dr. 
 Tongue. 
 
 '-'- Yes, we shall live to shake the throne of the 
 mock Nero," continued the earl, walking up and 
 down in triumph. " The nation may yet be saved, 
 and the glorious heritage our ancestors bought with 
 their blood may be transmitted intact to our chil- 
 dren. But, Gates, look that your tale be well told 
 — and yet it rings like good metal. This design of 
 the papists on the king's life — the resolution to 
 place his brother on the throne, in order to introduce 
 popery and to set parliaments aside since their con- 
 sent could not be obtained — combined with Cole- 
 man's cravings for money from France to raise an
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 251 
 
 Irisli army — are all admirable. But how will you 
 prove it, doctor?" 
 
 " I will swear it, my loard !" replied Oates, ener- 
 getically. 
 
 " Ay, ay ; but will folks believe us ?" said Shaftes- 
 bury, with a peculiar glance of his gUttering eye. 
 
 " Why, my loard, have I not seen, heard, felt 
 this accursed ploat? — have I not hved among the 
 viUanous Jesuits, Hstened at their doors, been at 
 their consultations, carried messages, intercepted 
 letters—" 
 
 " Why, sooth, you are the very bell-wether of 
 black sheep — a white Judas !" interrupted the earl. 
 ** But we shall need some strong support, lest the 
 king crush our discovery by some sudden exertion 
 of prerogative, and then adieu, dear Doctor Oates, 
 to your nose and ears?" 
 
 *' What needs, more than your lordship's and other 
 good pautriots?" said Titus, with a somewhat dis- 
 mayed glance around. 
 
 *' And, my good lord, methinks the nation is al- 
 ready well-primed, and needs but a spark to bring 
 out such an explosion as — as will blow this arbitrary' 
 court, and Popery and the Duke of York, and what
 
 252 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 not, to tKe devil?" said the Lord Howard, sipping liis 
 wine to fill up divers little pauses of hesitation. 
 " But how and when and where shall we com- 
 mence?" continued he. " 'SHfe, I am weary of the 
 common side of the hedge, and would be again 
 among the clover. Besides, I am vexed and stung 
 by those damnable gadflies, a man's creditors." 
 
 " Do you and Dr. Tongue, Gates, accost the king 
 on his morning walk," said the earl. " Or, stay — 
 Tongue knows one Kirby, a foohsh chemist, who is 
 oft admitted to the honour of cleaning his majesty's 
 crucibles, and preparing some of those wonderful 
 experiments of his, at which the court ladies clap 
 their little hands, and cry la ! What if he proposed 
 the matter to the king?" 
 
 *' What if all of us unitedly? I would not seem 
 behind in my duty to the king's majesty, but this is 
 a service for which he will thank no man," said Dr. 
 Tongue, warmly. 
 
 " Ay, ay, doctor, 'tis known you have half an 
 eye on the rich deanery of Wells, which is now 
 held on the tenure of an apoplexy," said the earl, 
 with his tart smile. " But, Gates, revealed only to 
 the king, your discoveries may be stifled in the
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 253 
 
 throes of bringing forth, wherefore ^ve must also 
 have it pubhcly deposed before some zealous magi- 
 strate, who will see it have fair play for Hfe." 
 
 " Ay, indeed. What says your lordsliip to the 
 godly and worshipful Master Bethel? he is a true 
 sers^ant of the cause," said Oates. 
 
 " A greedy curmudgeon! he did deny me a 
 paltry hundred guineas on my own security," mut- 
 tered the Lord Howard. 
 
 " No, no, not Bethel; he is too eager and head- 
 strong,^' said Shaftesbury. " He would push the 
 matter before its parts are fitted and coherent ; it 
 needs time to harden ; and besides, I would not have 
 it brought out too far before the Parliament assem- 
 bles, and we have had time to study its temper. No, 
 take your deposition before Sir Edmundbury God- 
 frey in Westminster. 'Twill seem the more impar- 
 tial, as men rumour he is rather incHned to the 
 papishers and court.'' 
 
 " My loard, I will obey you in all things, for 
 as Gideon was sent by God to rally liis scattered 
 peoples — " began Gates, when the earl sharply in- 
 terrupted him. 
 
 " Obey me ! Not so. Mi-. Oates !" he said. *' I do 
 think that in this transaction you follow the dictates
 
 254 CHAELES THE SECOND. 
 
 of your own conscience, but, mark ! no advice nor 
 instigation of mine. I will liave nothing to do witli 
 the midwifery of this discovery ; but bring it forth, 
 and perchance I shall prove a good gossip at the 
 christening." 
 
 " Nay, good truth, but your loardship, as head of 
 the true j\Iagna Charta church party, cannot but 
 support me in my discovery of this horrid, bloody, 
 and execrable ploat?" said Oates, very humbly. 
 
 " I shall in no respect be wanting in my duty to 
 my country," replied the earl. " But you know 
 me, Oates. I am not fond of working in the dark 
 wheels of other men's contrivances. We must not 
 appear to understand each other, or it will ruin all. 
 What if they bring evidence to prove you were at 
 St. Omer at these times when you say you were in 
 England?'^ 
 
 " Paupish evidence, my loard, which is not to be 
 suffered," said Oates, grinning. " Besides, I have 
 this boy to swear I was not there till — till I choose." 
 
 " I tell you again, you have mistaken your drudge ; 
 there is some gentleman's blood in his veins," said 
 Shaftesbury, thoughtfully. 
 
 "And how pale he looks, hanging over that book," 
 said Howard J " as if he had been d-ebauching it last
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 255 
 
 night with me at that drink-bushel Monmouth's I 
 Is he hungry? Do you starve him, Gates, as Bethel 
 does liis cook? Odd's life ! that puts me in mind 'tis 
 noonday, Shaftesbury, and we are to dine with my 
 Lord Russel, Sydney, and the other coimtry people.'" 
 
 " Faith were we,"" said the earl, rising, " where- 
 fore I must make scant manners with you, Doctor 
 Oates, and bid you farewell until such time and 
 place as I shall appoint, so soon as I shall have 
 heard you are afloat." 
 
 Oates rose too, and bowing profoundly, shook 
 Tongue's hand, which was extended in eager friend- 
 ship towards him. 
 
 " But I have forgotten a small matter,*" said the 
 earl,, drawing Oates aside. " How are you ofi* for 
 the king's portraits, old boy ? Ha, wouldst dishke 
 this small nest o' em ?" 
 
 " Owing to your lordsliip's liberahty, I lack no- 
 thing," replied Titus, condescending, however, to 
 take the offered purse. 
 
 " Nay, nay, you must not want," said Shaftesbury, 
 with a smile. " If the state knows not how to 
 honour virtue, I do ; and thereby honom- myself. 
 Young man," he added, turning to Mervyn, whom 
 Oates had beckoned out of his studio, "I see you
 
 256 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 are of rising metal ; do but what tliis wortliy gen- 
 tleman tells you, and you will live to see great 
 tilings." 
 
 Mervyn clioked tlie reply wliicli rose to his lips, 
 with some difficulty ; and after the usual ceremonies 
 of adieu, the worthy Gates marched off with his 
 young coadjutor. 
 
 " There he goes for a most pestilent Har, thief, 
 and demagogue," exclaimed Howard, almost as the 
 door swung on his heels. *' I do marvel your lord- 
 ship will have any thing to do with such a vicious, 
 perjured, blasphemous, foul-mouthed, monstrous — " 
 
 " Egad, brother, you would not have me clean a 
 pigsty with a silver fork!" interrupted the earl. 
 *' The man is fit for his work, and his work for the 
 man, and, as the saints say, did not the end sanctify 
 the means I could be loth to but it is dinner- 
 hour, and we must not keep my Lord Russel's stately 
 lady waiting." 
 
 And the poHticians moved off together, leaving 
 Dr. Tonsfue to finish the bottles alone.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOXD. 257 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 SAIXT GATES. 
 
 After this satisfactory interview, Gates left 
 Tlianet House in a state little short of ecstasy, and 
 Mervyn shared the genial effects of his good-hu- 
 mour. He leaned patronizingly on his arm, and 
 began talking with him very familiarly, asking him 
 how he liked the earl, his mansion, and the splendid 
 dress of the Lord Howard. *' You see, child," he 
 said with swelling importance, " I have not deceived 
 you ; I am a man of some little consequence in Eng- 
 land, and may turn out more than you yet dream, 
 boy." 
 
 "But what is all this coil about ; these strange 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 258 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 metamorplioses, these unlicensed assertions in which 
 yoii deal, Mr. Gates?" said Mervyn, hastily; for 
 little as he had overheard of the late scene, and 
 small as his knowledge of the world most cer- 
 tainly was, the high rank of the personages, and 
 much of Oates's conduct, filled liim with suspicion 
 and inquietude. 
 
 " I cannot and will not explain aught at present, 
 child," said brother Titus, after a glance of rat-like 
 alarm at the youth. " But know that I — that I — 
 Taitus Gates, will soon be as much dictator of this 
 great nation as ever was Sylla of the Roman state. 
 In my hands shall be the judgment of life and death, 
 triumph or defeat. You have but to support me, 
 child, and your fortune is made." 
 
 Leaving his young victim time to ruminate on 
 these strange anticipations, Gates plunged into a 
 chaos of entangled alleys and by-streets, whence 
 he emerged in the Strand, near St. Clement's. He 
 proceeded a short distance, and arrived before a 
 silversmith's shop, which displayed a scanty set-out 
 of ghttering wares in the window, and suddenly en- 
 tered. There was a large, fat, and eminently foolish- 
 looking man sitting at work with an ill-looking 
 pug-nosed apprentice, chasing some ornaments for
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 259 
 
 a fruit-basket. Oates's entrance caused tliem both to 
 look up, and tbe master's countenance underwent a 
 curious succession of changes, from a very deep and 
 evidently disagreeable surprise to a forced expression 
 of delight. 
 
 "Good lard! Mr. Gates? who'd a-thought it?" 
 he exclaimed, and, as the fashion of the day was, 
 locking his visiter in a fraternal embrace. Tliis was 
 followed by an earnest invitation into his Httle back- 
 parlour, which, coupled with an assurance that he 
 was just going to dine, proved irresistible. 
 
 " Well, and where have you been so long, for- 
 getting all your old friends?" said the silversmith, 
 when he had comfortably estabHshed liis visiters in 
 immense oak chairs. 
 
 " Oh, among the Jesuits, raking out all their ex- 
 ecrable practices — but you will soon hear more. 
 Master Prance,'^ repHed Gates, significantly. 
 
 " Well, but in good truth, tilings are tending 
 very much that way," said Prance, with an attempt 
 at the style jocular. " He-he ! they say now that 
 the short road to Rome is by Gxford. 'Shds, Master 
 Gates, I do sometimes think of tui'ning papisher 
 myself, for that's the cork to swim with now^adays. 
 S2
 
 260 CHAKLES THE SECOND. 
 
 And wliat a fine religion that is for gold and silver- 
 smiths' work ! For my part, I don't care how soon 
 it comes in. All I can say is, times can't be worse, 
 protestant as they are. Do but look here, what 
 beautiful gold work I am beating into tins choice 
 Genoa velvet, for the queen's chapel." 
 
 " Tlie mantle of the Scarlet Woman of Babylon I" 
 exclaimed Oates. " Oh, brother Prance, I am grieved 
 to hear you talk so far adrift. What is all tliis pomp 
 but leaven of earth, fleshpots of Egypt, vapours 
 from the nostrils of Satan? But what are the 
 news at home, for I am but just landed? — How is 
 your worthy lady? I trust her soul prospers." 
 
 "Ay, and her body too; she grows fatter and 
 fatter every day," said Prance, with a melancholy 
 smile. " Ay, and rules the roast still, Mr. Oates, I 
 warrant me. Her soul, quotha! She saved that 
 long ago, or there's no salvation to be had for love 
 or money." 
 
 " She was indeed a zealous seeker of the manna, 
 and with a blessing from above, I have often assisted 
 her to find it," rephed Oates, piously. " Well, well, 
 I am glad to hear she is fat ; it looks Hke good keep- 
 ing. Master Prance."
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 261 
 
 " Adzooks ! it's as mucli as I can do to keep lier 
 and her retinue of canting soul-savers !'* exclaimed 
 Prance, hastily. 
 
 " Ay, indeed; and wlio is her principal spiritual 
 adviser at present?' said Oates, liis complexion 
 darkening. 
 
 " Marry, now, be not jealous, in a ghostly sense," 
 said Prance, laughing. " For since you left us, 
 Master Oates, she hath run from light to light, from 
 teacher to teacher, without any constancy, and com- 
 plains that the pillar of fire is vanished from the 
 wilderness, and that she stumbles in her ways." 
 
 "Poor soul!" said Oates, with a grim smile. 
 *' Well, Master Prance, let us have your merriest 
 news first." 
 
 "Nay, the prettiest I wot of, is concerning a 
 crafty adventm'e of Claude DuvaPs," said the silver- 
 smith, laughing. " I do marvel at that fellow, and 
 how he hath so long eluded law and justice.'' 
 
 "So do not I, seeing he is so unchary of his 
 cash, that he hath always a friend in need," repHed 
 Oates. " Mind you not of the time at SaHsbiury, 
 when he and the catchpoles got drunk together, 
 and he escaped in one of their apparels ? Marry, 
 he served me a scm-vy trick many years agone,
 
 262 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 when lie was but commencing liis villanies; but I 
 have long since Cliristianly forgiven him, for certain 
 considerations. We should not quarrel now if we 
 met — unless I had a troop of dragoons at my elbow." 
 
 " Is Claude Duval a famous robber?" said Mer- 
 v}Ti, somewhat eagerly. 
 
 " Yea, and what is that to you, boy?" replied 
 Oates, with a suspicious glance at him. " Doth it 
 seem to you as if every thief were a relation of 
 yours?" 
 
 Mervyn looked confused and was silent. 
 
 " Nay, brother," interposed Prance, " but what 
 trick did he play you? — his tricks are all so merry." 
 
 *' Tut ! I have forgotten and forgiven it ! — He 
 robbed me in the forest of Clairvaux — he didn't get 
 much by it, though," said Oates, with a chuckling 
 laugh. ' ' But what new trick is this he hath played ?" 
 
 '^ Oh, la, so mighty funny, 'twere enough to make 
 a skeleton grin," said the silversmith. " You know 
 old avaricious Bethell, that was the famous sheriff— 
 And behold you last week comes a letter from one 
 of his correspondents in Darby, offering him a won- 
 derful bargain in sheepskins, but, forsooth, he must 
 go well provided with cash — hard cash. Off he 
 goes, and for saving, without any attendant, on an
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 263 
 
 old horse, "with a heavy bag of gold; and between 
 Darby and Ashby, on the moor there, "what meets 
 him but Mr. Duval, who makes liim surrender all 
 he has — and when he goes to Darby, Hght of his 
 bags, he finds me out that his correspondent knows 
 no more about sheepskins than the mutton, and it 
 was all a trick of Duval's — ha, ha !" 
 
 " But they say he is mighty courteous and ci\dl 
 to his prisoners^" said Oates, joining the laugh, de- 
 spite his assumed gravity; " in especial to the ladies 
 wherein he is a Frenchman to the backbone." 
 
 " Agad, that he is," said Prance, wiping his eyes, 
 which ran over with mirth. " Have you heard what 
 passed between him and beautiful Mistress Aurora 
 Sydney? — My lord Leicester, some few months ago, 
 was coming to town in his coach-and-six, with his 
 footmen and flambeau-men and what not, and his 
 lady granddaughter, mistress Aurora, with him. 
 She was coming to the court to be presented, on 
 occasion of being named maid of honour to the 
 queen, at the personal request of the Lord Shaftes- 
 bury, just before he was knocked out of office — he- 
 he-he ! — but that's neither here nor there. Well, 
 well, as I was saying — Claude Duval and a lot of his 
 fine fellows meets 'em on Hounslow, as sure as a
 
 264 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 gliost, and there was notliing for it but stand and 
 deliver. And wlien Claude looks in the coach, 
 seeing such a charmiag young lady in it (for they 
 say she beats even Mistress Stuart, and my Lady 
 Castlemaine is a fool to her), what does he do but 
 insist on dancing a minuet with her ! And in spite 
 of all her ifs and ans, out she must upon the heath, 
 and it being a fine moonhght night, foot it away for 
 a highwayman's pleasure. But I have heard Jack, 
 the coachman, say, he danced as solemnly as any 
 courtier, with his hat under liis ann; and she 
 being a witty pleasant lady, was so taken with the 
 mirth of the thing, that she danced as if with his 
 Majesty. And after the minuet, he hands her 
 safely back to my lord, who was nigh bursting with 
 rage, and saying he could not think of robbing so 
 perfect a lady of her adornments, gives her back a 
 casket which contained her jewels; and away they 
 go without further molestation." 
 
 " A marvellous pretty tale, an it be true," said 
 Gates, -with an uneasy glance at Mervyn. " But 
 know you, brother, por acaso, as the Spaniard hath 
 it, where Colonel Sydney now is?" 
 
 '' In England, but rather under cover," said 
 Prance. " He hath not yet obtained formal permis-
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 265 
 
 sion to appear, but lie came back to attend tlie old 
 earl's deatlibed, and is now in a sort of liide and 
 seek at Lord Howard's house, wbo is bis special 
 Hiend." 
 
 *' Ay, indeed ! and pritbee, are there any news 
 concerning tbat persecuted protestant,Colonel Blood? 
 Is be still at bide and seek with tlie law, about tbat 
 affair of tbe Duke of Ormonde?" 
 
 " Yes, and dare not be seen for bis life," said tbe 
 silversmitb, sbrugging bis sboulders. " Wby, Mr. 
 Gates, tbat was a terrible affair! My Lord Ossory 
 swears to make mincemeat of liim wberever tbey 
 meet; andtbougb Blood cares as bttle for tbreats as 
 any man, tbere is a warrant out, and a reward of a 
 thousand guineas for bis apprehension. I warrant 
 me, he is in some of bis old lurking-places in Wliite- 
 friars ; but here comes dinner, by my nose — ^boiled 
 beef, boiled beef, Mr. Gates ! and here comes Goody 
 Prance in all her bravery." 
 
 Mrs. Prance entered as be spoke. She was a tall, 
 fat, jolly woman, very fair and well conditioned, 
 with a Httle pouting sensual mouth, good colour, 
 and excellent eyes. She was dressed irresistibly, in 
 her Sunday kirtle and a handsome sacque, with
 
 266 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 a huge chain of blue stones crimping into her 
 fat neck, and with her hair very finely curled, pow- 
 dered, and scented. 
 
 The greeting between Gates and this fair lady 
 was edifying, from its affectionate eagerness, and the 
 large blush which overspread her vast bosom and 
 cheeks, as Gates squeezed her hand in silence for 
 several moments, while she poured forth her ac- 
 knowledgments for the honour of his visit. 
 
 Tliey now sat down to a hearty substantial repast, 
 in the olden style, beef with suet dumplings, and such 
 small matters as Mrs. Prance had hastily cooked up 
 for the distinguished guest ; and strong ale and brandy, 
 which had the additional zest, as Prance whispered, 
 of being contraband. Gates ate away at every thing 
 before him Avith shark-like voracity, and seasoned 
 the feast with deep draughts of the brown home- 
 brewed, all the time discoursing, very lengthily 
 and eloquently, about the state of religion, and the 
 persecution which the church laboured under, and 
 Mervyn thought at moments that the doctor's dis- 
 course had somehow or other a more earthly mean- 
 ing, which Mrs. Prance understood. This was par- 
 ticularly remarkable at those times when Mr. Prance
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 267 
 
 was called out to attend some customer, though the 
 dialogue still continued in that allegorical and mystic 
 style affected by the saints of the period. 
 
 " Ah, sister Prance !" groaned Gates, on one of 
 these occasions, " I do grieve to see how the 
 withered leaves still hang on a fruitful vine, and 
 that the unhappy paupistical bhndness is still on 
 that stray sheep, your husband, for all he liides it 
 carefully imder the veil of the ark, like a rotten 
 sore covered Avith a golden plaster." 
 
 " Yes, verily, 'tis not in man or woman's wit to 
 save a beam of wood from the burning temple, 
 though it be of the cedar of Lebanon, worthy master 
 Gates," repHed the lady. " I'm sure I've tried, soul 
 and body, and now he is unhappily hardened in his 
 idolatries by the queen's giving liim her Romish 
 idols to make, and his behef that the Brazen Calf is 
 once more to be set up among us." 
 
 *' He will Hve to repent it, poor man !" sighed 
 Gates. 
 
 " But you don't take a drop of any thing, doctor," 
 said Mrs. Prance, filhng his glass with brandy. " I 
 am sorry as the widow of Sarepta, dear master, that 
 I have nothing wortliier of a prophet in Israel ; but 
 such as I have, is entirely at your ser-s-ice. But godly
 
 268 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 master Gates, I do pray and hope on my bended 
 knees, you will never breathe a word of my poor 
 husband's prevarication, which I trusted to you in 
 strict confidence, that, knowing where the shoe 
 pinched liim, you might apply spiritual salve and 
 lint to his wounds." 
 
 ** Heaven forbid ! Madame Prance, Heaven 
 forbid !" said Gates. " We will but weep and pray 
 over him, and reveal not our cognizance of his 
 frailty. But I am minded that I cannot indulge 
 me longer in your company, for this season, '^ said 
 the reverend gentleman, after Hstening to a cuckoo 
 clock over the fire — " it is nigh three o'clock, and 
 I have calls on my time which even you do not 
 understand, sister in love." 
 
 ^' Pooh, pooh, man, you'll stay and taste a dish 
 of mulled sack I have warming," said honest Prance, 
 who retmned at tliis moment. " Wliy, there are 
 some of the rarest apples roasted you ever caught 
 sight of, all from the king's garden at Hampton." 
 
 But Gates, for some reason which he did not find 
 it necessary to explain, dechned even this genial in- 
 vitation, and declaring his business admitted of no 
 delay, took his departure. The usual greetings were 
 exchanged, and once more Mervyn found himself
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 269 
 
 following his wortliy master tkrougli the hot noon- 
 day streets, in great tribulation as to his own posi- 
 tion and prospects. He was now convinced that he 
 had committed a great but irreparable act of folly, in 
 trusting himself to the protection of this false brother. 
 Still he felt that any thing was better than the igno- 
 miny from which he thought his flight had saved him. 
 His situation was nevertheless, even to one so young 
 and thoughtless, sufficiently embarrassing. He be- 
 held liimself without friends or relations, in a strange 
 coimtry, in the power of a man who, to liis extreme 
 surprise, he found to be an apostate from the reli- 
 gion he professed, and who seemed engaged in dark 
 and dangerous manoeuvres, involving the greatest 
 personages and events. But liis moneyless condition 
 forced him still to temporize; against which, as a 
 matter of morality, liis education among the Je- 
 suitical casuists presented no obstacle, He however 
 determined to seize the first opportunity which pre- 
 sented itself, to escape from the trammels of his 
 hypocritical master.
 
 270 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A EOYAL EEVEL. 
 
 On leaving Prance's house, Gates directed his 
 course to the river, where he hired a sculler, order- 
 ing the boatman to convey them to Whitefriars, 
 and land at Water-lane. Mervjn was of course ig- 
 norant of the evil fame of the locality, and if he had 
 not been so. Gates was not in a humour to consult 
 liis opinions on the subject. Still he thought he 
 had never seen any place that seemed a fitter recep- 
 tacle for the offscum of fermenting multitudes, the 
 sink of a great city's crimes and wretchedness. 
 
 The entrance of Water-lane was distinguished by 
 a rude stone cross, marking the bounds of the sane-
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 271 
 
 tuary, and near tliis, day and night, stood sentinel 
 one of tlie Friars, as the refugees were called, with 
 a horn at his girdle, to give the signal for mustering 
 forces when any sheriff's officers made their appear- 
 ance without a miHtary force (wliich they seldom 
 did), and then to give the alarm to their intended 
 prey. Once past this sacred line of demarcation, a 
 maze of dark narrow lanes, bhnd alleys, and courts 
 very conveniently ending on the water, presented 
 themselves to the bewildered stranc^er. 
 
 The population of this wild district was of a cha- 
 racter extremely suitable to the haggard desperation 
 of their local habitation. "Wliitefriars, or Alsatia, 
 as it was called in the slang of the day, had reached 
 its highest excess of nuisance under Charles II. as a 
 sanctuary for all manner of crimes and lawless vil- 
 lanies. Fugitive debtors, murderers, and robbers — 
 bad men and women of every shade of vice and mi- 
 sery — were there congregated, in open and ahnost 
 secure defiance of the law. Debauchery of every 
 kind rioted in undisturbed impunity. Brandy-shops, 
 gaming-houses, and others of a still more revolting 
 character, whence, night and day, issued the roar of 
 i-uffianly contention, ending not unfrequently in 
 murder ; a few shops, kept by Jews, devoted osten-
 
 272 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 slbly to tlie sale of old rags and kitchen-stuff; and 
 some filtliy lanes in wliicli a clamorous fisli-market 
 was carried on, seemed tlie only means of subsistence 
 possessed by a part of tlie inhabitants ; but tlie great 
 majority lived no man knew how. Tliieves and 
 beggars who spent the day exercising their gifts in 
 other parts of the metropolis, came here to roost at 
 night, and scatter in debauchery what they had 
 earned at the risk of their necks. Occasionally, how- 
 ever, might be seen the gaunt, vsdthered frame, and 
 threadbare garb of some unhappy debtor, forced to 
 take refuge in this horrible place, from the fangs of 
 liis creditors. Nevertheless, this district, lawless as 
 it appeared, was governed by certain regulations, 
 which for the common good were rigidly enforced; 
 among which was most remarkable the law by which 
 all were bound to resist any invasion by justice, vi 
 et armis. 
 
 Oates stopped before a pubHc-house on the bor- 
 ders of the Temple, which had for sign a battered 
 coat of arms over the gate, under which was hewn 
 in stone — " The Heaven." But as it happened that 
 this house, which was part of the ruined palace of 
 the bishops of SaHsbuiy, had escaped with Httle 
 damage from the great fire, the pious owner had
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 273 
 
 added the title of " The Brand from the Burning." 
 Oates paused a moment to adjust his coif, and the 
 youth happening to raise his eyes, read with sur- 
 prise the motto round the shield. " Esperance and 
 advance, Merv3rQ!" 
 
 He pointed this name out to Oates, who said in a 
 gruff tone, " Ay, ay, there are more Toms in York 
 than one. Your rogue of a father gave you the 
 name of a family he served, but henceforth I bestow 
 upon you one more appropriate, and presume not 
 to prick thine ears to any sound but Ichabod." 
 
 He then stalked majestically into the house, and 
 was met by an hostess whose flushed face, disordered 
 garb, and rakish eye bore tokens of recent inebria- 
 tion. Nevertheless, she rejoiced in a name wliich 
 promised better things, and was in truth our old 
 friend. Temperance Bradley. Of her Oates in- 
 quired whether Mr. Butcherlaw were there. 
 
 " And what do you want with him, my master?" 
 replied the hostess, eyeing him suspiciously. " If 
 you mean to do any good with the colonel you 
 should have brought a file of musketeers." 
 
 " I am his friend, good woman," said the doctor. 
 '' Wliy, Mistress Bradley, do you forget an old 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 CHAELES THE SECOND. 
 
 friend in a new dress? or are you too proud to own 
 him?" 
 
 " Good lackadaisy ! Captain Oates in a parson's 
 rind !" exclaimed she, cordially returning liis salute. 
 " What, on your tricks again? Well, if you must 
 see him, he's upstairs diinking and boozing with 
 some ruffling gallants of the court, come on purpose 
 to see him now he's in trouble." 
 
 " Tell liim, good madam, I must see him directly, 
 alone, in your Httle back tap," said Oates, stepping 
 on through some barrels into a little dark room, 
 with the air of one famihar with the place; " and 
 let them bring me a pint of your best red Canary, 
 with a toast." 
 
 Mrs. Bradley nodded, and Oates closed the door 
 on liimself and his companion. Disgusted and 
 weary with the day's occupation, Mervyn refused 
 any share of the liquor, although Oates pressed him 
 with a quaint smile, and seated himself moodily in 
 the window-sill. He sat looking into a ruffianly 
 court below, until Butcherlaw, or as the reader has 
 perhaps divined. Colonel Blood, made his appear- 
 ance. 
 
 Years had made Httle perceptible alteration in the
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 275 
 
 athletic frame of this worthy, but a good deal in his 
 dress, for he was clad in a very worn and faded 
 garb, though once of rich materials. His face was 
 deeply flushed with wine, and he had altogether the 
 look of one disturbed in some dnmken debauch. 
 Mervyn remarked that while he wrung Oates's hand 
 with affected cordiahty, he glanced around, and 
 that as their eyes met, his complexion grew hvid as 
 lead. On his own part he felt an inconceivable 
 dread at the mere sight of the man, which induced 
 him to turn aside, and divert his unpleasant feelings 
 by watching a fight between two ragged boys in 
 the court below. 
 
 Meanwhile the two friends discoursed in a low 
 key, and in a cant which Mervyn did not under- 
 stand; but at last Oates turned to Mm, and said, 
 *' this is the young gentleman, Llr. Butcherlaw ; 
 this is Mr. Butcherlaw, Ichabod, who is a near re- 
 lation of yom'S, and will tell you all about your 
 parentage, when time serves. At present he is good 
 enough to take you under his protection till we can 
 do better for you." 
 
 The colour again forsook the colonel's counte- 
 nance as Mervyn looked at liim with extreme eager- 
 T 2
 
 276 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 ness ; but lie muttered something about bis satisfac- 
 tion at tbe office, and wiped the dark dew from 
 bis brow with an ague-bke shudder over his whole 
 frame. 
 
 " Tell me then who is my father ? is he alive ?" 
 said Mervyn, hastily. 
 
 " I have told you, sirrah, that this question is 
 forbidden you at present," said Oates, severely. 
 "In a short time the objection to teUing you 
 will be removed ; till then you remain as I have 
 said." 
 
 Mervyn felt strongly inclined to inquire by what 
 right he was thus turned over to a stranger, but the 
 bait thus artfully thro^^oi out, and his own forlorn 
 condition, deprived him of power. Oates then be- 
 stowed his blessing upon the boy, and observed to 
 the colonel that he should take a sculler, and attend 
 a godly meeting which he heard was to take place 
 in Holborn fields." 
 
 *' Tut, man, never lie to the devil," said Blood, 
 coarsely. " Tliou'It deceive neither him nor me. 
 Say at once thou art aAvay to sec thy old acquaint- 
 ance, Mother Creswold !" 
 
 " Mr. Butchcrlaw, you are in liquor,'' said Oates,
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 277 
 
 with dignity. *' But you will be sober enough when 
 we meet again." 
 
 And with a pecuhar glance at iMervyn, the mean- 
 ing of wliich he could not in the least fathom, he 
 left the apartment. 
 
 *' If ever the fiend took human form — " muttered 
 Blood, but checking himself, he turned to Mervyn, 
 and asked whether he had dined. Mervyn repHed 
 in the affirmative, but he remarked that the colonel 
 watched him as he spoke with intense interest, and 
 seemed rather Hstening to the sound of his voice 
 than to what he said. He then took a turn or two 
 in the room, and stopped abruptly. *' Be of good 
 cheer, youth," he said in a low tone. " I Hkc your 
 appearance, and will prove a better friend than most 
 relations. Follow me ; I mean to introduce you to 
 some of the best society in England." And, with 
 a swagger of no common significance, he strode up 
 a narrow dark staircase, Merv}^! following, though 
 with considerable repugnance. 
 
 As they mounted, Mervyn distinguished sounds 
 of loud merriment from above, a chorus of voices 
 roaring out some bacchanal staves, to an accompani- 
 ment of clashing goblets and thumps on the table. 
 Blood went first, and threw open the door of a large
 
 278 CHAELES THE SECOND. 
 
 apartment, battered and decayed, but evidently tlie 
 relics of one of considerable magnificence. Indeed, 
 it was a remnant of tbe episcopal palace, of whose 
 ruins tlie inn consisted. Tliere was a table in the 
 middle covered with wine, fruit, dice, and a steam- 
 ing bowl of punch, round which sat a number of 
 gallants. 
 
 Mine host of the Heaven, large-nosed Simon 
 Bradley, presided over the nectar, and was at the 
 moment rolling in his chair, in a fit of laughter, 
 caused by an obser^^ation of one of the guests, a 
 tall, dark, muscular man, dressed in a flaunting 
 livery. Next to him sat two gallants who looked 
 Hke worn-out rakes of the town, but both hand- 
 some, well-made men, whose high-bred manners 
 strangely contrasted with their out-of-elbow appear- 
 ance. Tliere was a fourth whose glittering habih- 
 ments instantly attracted Mervyn's attention. He 
 was a handsome gallant-looking cavaHer, verging 
 perhaps on forty, with long curled hair, mustache 
 and beard of the newest cut. His dress was some- 
 what military, though not strictly the uniform of 
 any service. He wore blue slashed small clothes, 
 liigh boots, and a scarlet coat richly laced, a collar 
 of the finest work, jewels on his fingers, and a cocked
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 279 
 
 hat. A long basket-hilted sword hung by his side 
 from a steel band, and a pair of pistols lay at hand 
 on his cloak. 
 
 " What ! an addition to our company?" exclaimed 
 the gentleman in liveiy. 
 
 "Ay, faith, and a proper addition too, old Row- 
 ley," returned Blood. " My nephew, gentlemen, 
 just arrived from foreign parts." 
 
 " What, hath he been cooHng his heels in the 
 Low Countries, running from the French?" said one 
 of the gallants. " Or hath he been to the ItaHan, 
 studying the art of cutting throats in the refined 
 manner?" 
 
 *' Nay, he hath been but lately in France, Saint 
 Wilmot," repUed the colonel. 
 
 " Oh, I understand — at Paris, learning to poison 
 under Brinvilliers?" rephed Wilmot. 
 
 " By the mass, no I he looks an honest youth — I 
 say it, though he be thy nephew, Butcherlaw," said 
 the personage styled Rowley. " What say'st thou, 
 boy — art honest as times go?" 
 
 " Methinks it will not increase my welcome to 
 this good company, if I say yes," repHed Mer^^. 
 " Yet he who says no, is a false knave, and hes." 
 
 *' Why, then, thou art a very great curiosity,"
 
 280 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 said Wilmot. "Honest! prithee, let me see thy 
 face; thou art as rare as a squeaking mandrake." 
 
 " You had as well look at a basilisk, for an honest 
 eye must needs shame you to stone," said Mervyn, 
 vehemently, for he was irritated by the mode of 
 this reception. 
 
 " Well answered, by these nails!" shouted Row- 
 ley. " Come hither, boy; I like thee. Tliou hast 
 a ready wit and a daring, — and as times go, these are 
 good quahties. Sit thee here beside me. Methinks 
 there is some favour in thy countenance which I 
 should remember, could I see through the hogshead 
 of punch in my skull. But the image I should re- 
 call wavers in its glimmer. Wilmot, whom doth 
 he flavour of ?" 
 
 " My father must have travelled in England, 
 since I am likened to so many," said Mervyn. 
 
 ** Faith, Hackum, it strikes me too," said Blood, 
 addressing the cavaUer in scarlet, who was gazing 
 with remarkable earnestness at Mervyn. ' ' Deem you 
 not he smacks something of your once master, the 
 lord who murdered himself in the Tower?" 
 
 " Say, rather, who was murdered," rephed the 
 cavalier, in a low tone. " Sainte Vierge ! but 'tis 
 even so. Prithee, boy, look not on me; thine
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 281 
 
 innocent eyes do seem to reproach my villanous 
 friendsliip witli tliis man." 
 
 " Thy villanous friendship !" exclaimed the colonel, 
 fiercely. " Why, sirrah, did I not get you out of 
 the galleys some short ten years agone, furnish you 
 with the file and the crow-bar, have a boat waiting 
 for you, and finally hide you in Alsatia till the hue 
 and cry was over?" 
 
 " And then you took advantage of my despair, 
 and made me what I am," said the cavalier, obviously 
 much excited. " But for the life you gave me, did 
 I not break the oath wliich bound me to avenge my 
 master's blood in yom'S? — And have I not repaid 
 the service many times? But, villain, I have shaken 
 thy trammels off again ! My master's ghost is here, 
 and I will have thy life or thou mine — so have at 
 thee!" 
 
 " Fool ! — he is mad with brandy and lemons," 
 said Blood, contemptuously. *' Look you, gentle- 
 men, how the chance resemblancce of an Irish nose 
 and eyes to some English ones, long since rotted 
 into dust " 
 
 ''What! were you born in Ireland, boy?" said 
 the cavalier, eagerly. 
 
 " Faith, I know more of his parentage than he
 
 2tf CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 knows Mmself," said the colonel. " And I promise 
 you, 'tis a cliick from a real Lisli egg" 
 
 *' Tell me, boy, who was thy father?" continued 
 Hackum. 
 
 "I had no father, sir, that ever I knew," said 
 Mervyn, innocently. 
 
 " Nay there is a proverb concerning that," said 
 Wilmot. 
 
 " And born in Lreland?" muttered Hackum. 
 
 *' Come, come, friend, let not the wine make a 
 fool of thee," said Blood, coaxingly. " Thou knowest 
 it is not safe to jest mth me." 
 
 " For whoso sups with the devil, should have a 
 long spoon," said Wilmot, laughingly. 
 
 " Menace not me, Blood. I despise thee and thy 
 threats," returned the cavaher. " 'Shfe, thou hast 
 told me lies umiumbered, how thou didst mistake my 
 purpose that night — thought I was sold to the vil- 
 lanous countess, forsooth, and touched with com- 
 passion, laboured his rescue ! But I did never put 
 faith in thee, and will choke my thoughts no longer ! 
 I teU thee. Blood, despite all the enterprises wherein 
 we have been brothers, thou art a black and felo- 
 nious murtherer !" 
 
 *' You lie, scoundrel! I did never slay any man
 
 CHAPwLES THE SECOND. 283 
 
 but in fair fight," roared tHe colonel, yielding to his 
 hitherto suppressed fury. 
 
 *' Ha, the lie ! take it back again with tliis, thou 
 cruel ruffian !" returned Hackum, and seizing a de- 
 canter, he dashed it at Blood's head, but it missed, 
 and fell from the opposite wall in fragments on the 
 floor. 
 
 With a savage cry resembhng that of some wild 
 beast. Blood sprang forward, his sword flashing out, 
 and meeting that of Hackum with, a fury which 
 sent sparks around. The whole company rose in 
 confusion. 
 
 *' Rochester, Buckingham, part them I" exclaimed 
 Rowley, seizing the colonel's arm. " Blood, I com- 
 mand you, sheathe you sHt-buUy — what drunken 
 brawl is this? Marry, is the gentleman some par- 
 tisan of the Ormondes?" 
 
 " I am none of the faction — I scorn it," said the 
 cavaher, fiercely. " Unhand me, sirs ! 'tis an old 
 quarrel suppressed many years ; but there is truth in 
 wine, and I tell you, he is a monstrous atrocious 
 villain, not fit to five." 
 
 " Tut, every man knows that: have you nothing 
 new to urge against him?" interposed Rowley in a
 
 284 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 peace-making tone. " Heard you ever of man wKo 
 became a Wliite Friar for his virtues?" 
 
 "But the man is a devil!" shouted Hackum, 
 boiling up again, after a glance at the pale and 
 affrighted countenance of Mervyn. " He is a devil, 
 a devil, a devil! confess, thou villain! didst thou 
 not with that felonious hand murder the noble Lord 
 Aumerle, when he was a prisoner in the Tower?" 
 
 Blood raised his sword irresolutely, but Rowley 
 held him back; his lips were covered with foam, 
 and he looked black in the face, as if about to fall 
 into a fit. 
 
 " What, man alive, art dreaming?" exclaimed 
 Wilmot. " My dear friend, beheve me the punch 
 hath flooded your judgment. Why, every body in 
 England knows the Lord Aumerle committed Siuicide 
 in the Tower, the night of the great fire?" 
 
 " Beware, sirrah, beware!" said Blood, his teetli 
 chattering with rage, "or by tliis light of Heaven, 
 I will reveal who you are !" 
 
 *' What care I ? have you a file of the king's guard 
 at your heels?" returned Hackum. " Gentlemen, I 
 care not; hear me! I am Claude Duval — Claude 
 Duval, the highwayinan !"
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 285 
 
 *' Claude Duval !" echoed all tlie gallants with 
 great astonishment. 
 
 "Yes, Claude Duval, sirs. Shrink not back — I 
 have met you in friendship, and no man lives who 
 can say that Claude Duval ever betrayed his reli- 
 gion or his friend." 
 
 "Are you the great robber?" exclaimed Mervyn. 
 " Why then, I rank myself on your side. For all he 
 says he is my uncle, robbers are of a nearer kindred 
 tome." 
 
 " I am proud to make your acquaintance, gallant 
 Duval!" said Rowley, after a moment's pause. 
 *' Here is my hand; I have long wished to see you, 
 for of all the rogues in England you are the only one 
 that dares to be a villain like a man." 
 
 "Why, so say I," exclaimed Wilmot; " so let 
 us all be sociable and friendly, man; you are in 
 sooth the only honest robber of us all." 
 
 " But methinks you -wrong your friend, the co- 
 lonel," said Rowley. " He introduced you as a 
 merry companion to our meeting, and if you be so 
 much a gentleman as we have heard it said, you 
 should not interrupt our fellowship with a private 
 quarrel. Why, man, I was on the jury which judged
 
 286 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 my Lord Aumerle a suicide, and we did it on per- 
 fect proof. I saw with my own eyes, that it was 
 impossible for any one to have got in to murder him ; 
 there were three massive locked doors, man, and 
 unless the colonel could get in at the keyhole—" 
 
 "Besides," interrupted Wilmot, "why should he 
 murder liim when he had only to leave his dagger's 
 work to the axe of the law ?" 
 
 " It is a behef which I will stick to in my dying 
 hour," said Claude, in a melancholy voice, and with 
 tears standing in liis eyes. " But, gentlemen, as 
 you say, there is no proof — and every man is in- 
 nocent till he is found out — it wiU be judged some 
 day!" 
 
 " I have borne more from thee, Duval, than ever 
 I thought at any man's hand," said Blood, slowly 
 dropping liis sword's point. 
 
 " Yes, truly. I am of use to you," rephed Du- 
 val. " But thank Heaven, you have never coaxed 
 me into any of your bloody deeds^ though I have 
 shared more of your crafts and robberies than I 
 shall know how to account for." 
 
 " What, were you not with me in the rescue of 
 Captam Mason from the dragoons?" said the co- 
 lonel -svith a black smile.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 287 
 
 " Ay, but it was man to man, a fair figlit," re- 
 turned Claude. 
 
 " Nonsense, man, tlie wine darkens your better 
 judgment," said Blood sheatliing liis sword. " And 
 so my quarrel was with tlie wine, and not with 
 Claude Duval. Here is my hand, sir, and reserve 
 your cold iron for cold hearts." 
 
 The persuasions of the company induced Claude, 
 with much reluctance, to accept the offered hand, 
 wliich was remarkable for huge size and the de- 
 formity of its thumb. All then resumed their 
 seats, and the host suddenly made liis appearance 
 from under the table, where he had taken refuge. 
 A Iresh bowl of punch was ordered in, and Rowley 
 laboured, not without success, to restore the j oviahty of 
 the meeting. By degrees all recollection of the recent 
 quaiTel vanished in copious draughts of the nectar, 
 and Mervyn saw with astonishment that as they 
 grew more and more intoxicated, the belUgerents' 
 rancour decreased, until at last they actually em- 
 braced each other, protesting they were the best 
 friends in hfe. 
 
 Accustomed to the sobriety and severe decency 
 of manners enforced at St. Omer, almost every 
 word he heard brought blushes to Mervyn's young
 
 288 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 cheek, and lie sat gazing and listening like an in- 
 nocent shepherd straying by chance on the orgies 
 of satyrs. The free opinions delivered on all topics 
 — women, religion, laws human and divine — made 
 his ears tingle with shame ; but there was something 
 fatally captivating in the licentious vivacity of these 
 gallants. Rowley seemed a man of great humour ; 
 there was a satirical depth in what he said which 
 showed a long acquaintance with mankind, and his 
 two companions were evidently men of great parts 
 and brilliant wit. But even these two were dis- 
 tinguished by deep shades of character. Wilmot's 
 wit was bitter, misanthropical, tinged with gloom 
 at times, at others libertine to excess ; Villiers's 
 was rather sparkling and ambitious than mahgnant, 
 yet often extremely sarcastic, especially when rat- 
 thng away at Wilmot, Avith whom he waged a con- 
 tinued skirmish of repartees. 
 
 Mervyn thought he could discern that these com- 
 panions were of higher rank than they pretended 
 to be, and there was something of mastery assumed 
 by Rowley, to which all the others seemed to yield. 
 Still he was shocked with the irreligion and blas- 
 phemy which all seemed to take pride in display- 
 ing. But Rowley continued to drown his scruples
 
 CHAKLES THE SECOND. 289 
 
 in laughter and wine. In vain he resisted ; lie was 
 jeered at as a milksop, and forced to swallow glass 
 on glass, till excited by the liquor, and his own 
 natural vivacity, he launched out in a style of 
 daring which, from its freshness, seemed to dehght 
 those wild companions. 
 
 VOL. I
 
 290 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A NIGHT IN ALSATIA. 
 
 " Thou art a merry little dog, Ichabod, with thy 
 Jewish name !" said Rowley, throwing himself back 
 in liis chair. " Methinks I shall love thee, and be 
 of service to thee." 
 
 " Canst thou eat mutton, child, then ?" said Wil- 
 mot, smiling. " If so, thy fortune is made." 
 
 " Ay, that can I, but fat ven'son better," replied 
 Merv3m. 
 
 " Fore Heaven, Rowley, and is not this better 
 than churning our brains to curds in the whirligig 
 of state affairs ?" said Villiers, blowing the froth 
 from his punch into Rowley's plate.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 291 
 
 " Yea, tills is the only life for men of sense — an 
 it would last for ever," said Wilmot witli a sigh. 
 " What sinsfs old sao;e Anacreon ? 
 
 "Could gold prolong our life's 'brief span, 
 One moment snatch from fate, 
 I, too, would heap the glittering dross; 
 
 I, too, toil early — late; 
 That if Death chanced to journey nigh. 
 He might take something and pass by. 
 
 But if one cannot purchase life. 
 Why sigh in vain and weep ? 
 
 And if Death's steps are fated, how 
 Can gold resist his sweep ? 
 
 So be it mine to grow divine, 
 
 'Mid genial friends, in purple wine!" 
 
 " I have noted thee, Jack, these latter times," 
 said Rowley, as Wilmot concluded his recitation. 
 " And take my word for it, thou wilt not die in the 
 jolly fellow's faith. Thou wilt repent and turn a 
 whiner." 
 
 " Of a surety and verily, for his spirit quaileth," 
 said ViUiers with a sanctimonious twang. " Mind 
 you not last summer when he had the fever, how he 
 winced, and called in the harsh Scotch canter, Bur- 
 net, to pray by his bedside?" 
 u2
 
 292 CHAELES THE SECOXD. 
 
 " The devil was sick then, gallants," replied Wil- 
 mot. " Well, well, fill up your glasses — but though 
 it be a merry life to lead, I doubt me if it end in so 
 cheery a death." 
 
 " Pooh, pooh, man, enjoy life while it lasts, and 
 take death when it comes," said Blood. " Why, 
 Jack, the saint and the sinner both come to the 
 same thing — a statue cut in flesh, that's all." 
 
 " I warrant me, you have chiselled many such a 
 statue with your dagger and Toledo, Blood," said 
 Duval. " And to my thought, I can see one of 
 your handiwork even now." 
 
 " Wliat canst thou see, fool?" said the colonel, 
 giving a fearful glance round the apartment, and 
 "svith a forced laugh he began sipping his wine. 
 
 " Let us have no more of that folly, gentlemen," 
 interrupted Rowley. *' But no marvel we are turning 
 into the green and yellow leaves of discourse : our 
 punchbowl is empty as an honest man^s purse. — 
 Mine host, look to it." 
 
 " Pimch for ever I" exclaimed Simon, bustling 
 up. " I wonder if the water boiled last bowl — 
 methought it smacked too much of the lemons.'' 
 And he tottered out -with the nectar pot, as Wilmot 
 called it.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOXB. 293 
 
 " Come, come, Claude, murder or no murder, 'tis 
 ten years agone," said Rowley, watcliing the melan- 
 choly musing countenance of Duval. " And as the 
 rascal Scot says, let bygones be bygones ; though 
 by the by, they themselves never forgive. Cheer 
 up. Jack ! — what avaib looking so sad, man? — Why 
 art so down in the muzzle?'' 
 
 " Faith, my lord, I have been in better spirits," 
 replied Wilmot with an absent smile. " My health 
 fails, and methinks, if what Dr. Lloyd warns me be 
 true, I shall die a horrible death." 
 
 " Why, man, you are still in the summer of your 
 days," said Rowley, cheerfully. " 'Tis time enough 
 to repent when you can do no better — at worst, 'tis 
 but turning Catholic and getting absolved. Besides, 
 if you are damned, lad, 'tis in rare good company. 
 Wliat says old Sliirley? since you have given us a 
 slice of Anacreon." 
 
 He then began singing, or, rather, murmuring, 
 the fine stanzas, which are recorded to have been 
 his favourites, in the Contention of Ajax and 
 Ulysses. 
 
 " The glories of our birth and state 
 
 Are shadows, not substantial things ; 
 There is no armour against fate : 
 Death lays his icy hands on kings :
 
 294 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 Sceptre and crown 
 
 Must tumble dowTi, 
 And in the dust be equal made 
 ^Yith the poor crooked scythe and spade." 
 
 " I would your grace liad a better voice — ^you 
 have a good will," said Wilmot, whose eyes were 
 full of tears and wine. " Well, well, I shall not 
 live very long to wish so, and when I die I shall go 
 to the devil— eh. Blood?" 
 
 "^n there be such a person, doubtless," replied 
 the colonel, carelessly. " But hang it, here comes 
 old Simon with the punch — so no more words — 
 they interrupt drinking." 
 
 '*' And now," said Rowley, after a moment's pause 
 in the conversation, " tell us. Blood, how dost thou 
 prosper with that affair in the Tower thou wot- 
 testof?" 
 
 *' My liege !" exclaimed the colonel, in an alarmed 
 tone. 
 
 " How ! thy liege? Am I the devil or the Duke 
 of Monmouth?" said Rowley, sharply. 
 
 " Why, I do prosper mightily, sir," said Blood. 
 " I have paid the old keeper sundry visits, and he 
 is thoroughly persuaded that I am a most religious 
 puritanical Baxterian divine. And I have broached 
 a small matter how I will wed a son of his — a rough
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 295 
 
 sea-captain — to a fair daughter of mine, that is rich 
 by some grandmother's will." 
 
 " And doth the poor old man really take thee, 
 with thy villanous countenance, for a man of decency 
 and morals?" said Wilmot. 
 
 " Yea, and we do discourse godly matters, in the 
 perfect style of the saints, so that it is a balm out of 
 Gilead to hear us in spiritual communion," said 
 Blood in a hypocritical wliine. "But how is this, 
 my masters? — our punchbowl dry again, and I have 
 never lipped it !" 
 
 " Go, Simon, and mix us a httle more of the 
 pleasantness of lemons with the strength of brandy, 
 and look that thou put less water, and yet that it be 
 filled," said Rowley, with great solemnity. 
 
 *' Ay, ay, more punch I warrant me — merry gal- 
 lants, good troth," stammered the host feebly, and 
 laughing with a tipsy silliness. "So, so — I promise 
 you I know my way. There's one of my eyes sober 
 yet." 
 
 But honest Simon had scarcely moved from his 
 chair ere he fell prone, punchbowl and all. Rowley 
 picked him up, but all efforts to sober him were in 
 vain, and they were obhged to let him snore in his
 
 296 CHAELES THE SECOND. 
 
 chair. They then rang a bell on the table, and Mrs. 
 Temperance entered, somewhat excited herself. She 
 demurred, however, to the demand for more punch. 
 " Ye have di'unk enough, gallants," she said, reso- 
 lutely, " and I don't know how I'm to be paid. 
 There's the colonel here owes me a three months' 
 score, and I have never, as I'm a Christian woman, 
 seen an angel of it." 
 
 " Nay, now, woman, what foolery's this?" said 
 Blood; " would you shame me before my guests? 
 Thou shalt be paid all in good time; and mean- 
 while dost thou not owe me a kiss, for slapping my 
 cheek tliis morn till it blushed !" 
 
 And seizing the hostess by her shoulders and 
 stout waist, Blood inflicted a very hearty salute. 
 This seemed to mollify Mrs. Temperance, and call- 
 ing him a " deceivous honey of a man," and her 
 husband *' an ugly little snoozling porker," she 
 picked up the broken punchbowl and made her 
 exit. 
 
 " I pity thee. Blood," said Wilmot; " 'tis a pe- 
 nance to wipe out half thy sins, having to kiss such 
 lips for thy board." 
 
 " I would not for my life," added Rowley, groan- 
 ing.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 297 
 
 " Faith, your grace can afford to say so," replied 
 tlie colonel, " seeing you Have the pick of London's 
 fairest ladies." 
 
 " Why, man, thou must be enviable by the king 
 himself, favourite as he is among the fair Enghsh 
 dames !" exclaimed Claude Duval, awaking from a 
 long revery, dming which he sat contemplating 
 Mervyn's countenance. 
 
 " Nay, come, I am not so much to be envied, an 
 it were all known," muttered Rowley, in a discon- 
 tented tone, " for w^hat says old James Sliirley? 
 my father, that had not wit enough to keep his 
 head on his shoulders, loved him well. 
 
 " The glories of oiir birth and state 
 Are shadows, not sub " 
 
 *' Gadskilly ! what manner of chant is this for 
 Alsatia?" exclaimed a new voice, and following Mrs. 
 Temperance and the punchbowl, entered an ex- 
 ceedingly handsome young man, wearing the mii- 
 form of the king's guard, but apparently disordered 
 in some recent scuffle. 
 
 *' Good now, gentlemen, excuse me," said Mrs. 
 Temperance. " Indeed I cannot help it. This young 
 gentleman comes me roystering in, and understand-
 
 298 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 ing what good company ye were by the tingling of 
 your glasses — " 
 
 " Oh, make no pardonnez-mols, good hostess," in- 
 terrupted the young officer, "" all rogues are brothers 
 in Alsatia. I have just killed my man in Holbom, 
 and ran here for shelter, where I know that virtue 
 never lacks it — till my friends make the matter up." 
 " Thou killed thy man ! siu:ely thou hast begim 
 early, my slashing blade !" exclaimed Rowley. *' But 
 no matter ! As I said before, an the devil come he 
 is welcome. Bring him a tankard, mother Tem- 
 perance—name but not thing; but that is the age's 
 fashion." 
 
 " What had the man done to rouse thy wrath, 
 thou sweet epitome of the times?" said "VVilmot. 
 " Had he trod on thy corn, or sworn that thou 
 laekest beard, as, by my blue garter, thou dost most 
 smockishly !" 
 
 " Nay, not so bad as that, or I had eaten him 
 too," replied the young homicide; " he but called 
 my mistress no better than she should be, and it 
 was the trutli too ; but it suited not with mine ho- 
 nour to hear it said." 
 
 " And prithee what green girl hath thee in lead- 
 ing, for lack of a monkey ?" said Wilmot.
 
 CHAELES THE SECOND. 299 
 
 " Oh, I can tell you she is none of your small fiy,** 
 said the ofl&cer. " I know two great men that have 
 shown a great deal of folly to win her smiles, and 
 there is a third, a very great man indeed, who would 
 give the world, an it were in his gift, to keep her 
 faithfully his." 
 
 •* Here's some new scandal of our virtuous court," 
 said Rowley, winking at his companions. " TVTiat 
 nobles are these that do affect thy Dulcinea ? Are 
 they of the rogues in, or the rogues out — court or 
 country — speak !" 
 
 " Oh, they are notorious for being any thing that 
 hath a relish of villany in it," repUed the fugitive. 
 " To-day they are for the king and court but what 
 they may be to-morrow depends on the winds and 
 weather. Yet men say they have good head-pieces, 
 and they are reputed Tthough it may be falsely) to 
 be the sons of two notorious profligates, my lords of 
 Buckingham and Rochester." 
 
 " Villain, thou hest!' exclaimed both TTilmot 
 and Yilliers, starting up and clapping their hands 
 on their swords. 
 
 ** Peace, gentlemen !" exclaimed Rowley, laugh- 
 ing heartily. " And you, sir soldier, restrain your 
 choleric valour, when I tell you that these worship-
 
 300 CHAELES THE SECOND. 
 
 ful squires are servants to those two great lords, and 
 love tliem so well that they hold nothing dearer in 
 earth or heaven." 
 
 *^ Oh, I thought by their look they could be no- 
 thing better," said the officer, contemptuously, and 
 sheathing his half-drawn sword. 
 
 " Sit down, sir, and drink to the drowning of all 
 unkindness," exclaimed Rowley. " Odd's fish ! he 
 takes me sharp enough on the word ! But prithee 
 what great man do you speak of, and what is your 
 lady's name, that we may drink her health in a 
 bumper?" 
 
 " That is a secret everywhere but in our mess- 
 room," replied the young officer. " But I'U not drink 
 your punch for nothing, for I'll teach you to reform 
 your singing. Is that doleful ditty of Shirley's a 
 song for Alsatia? And when there's so choice a no- 
 velty composed by that rogue, Sedley ? Listen to 
 it, and join chorus: 'tis very wicked and pleasant." 
 
 He then sang, in an extremely sweet but feminine 
 voice, the following song : 
 
 THE JOLLY WHITE FRIAES. 
 
 " We are all jolly friars — well met, brother rogue! 
 
 Though the name's out of fasliion, the thhig's much in vogue;
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 301 
 
 For stripp'd of the surplice, the robe, or the sword, 
 The devil can't tell a whipp'd tliief from my lord; 
 Aiid if truth may be smig, if 'twere not for the name. 
 My lady and Bess are extremely the same : 
 So, jolly White Friars, our toast shrink from never — 
 Here's success to all rogues — ^Wine and Woman for ever! 
 
 We are all jolly friars — ne'er blush, brother knave! 
 
 'Tis a title as common and old as the grave; 
 
 If the priest call you infidel, laugh in his face. 
 
 And ask him, what were he without his grimace. 
 
 If the soldier call coward, the lawyer cry thief, 
 
 Ask them both what they are without red-coat or brief. 
 
 So, jolly White Friars, our toast will fail never — 
 
 Here's success to all rosoies — Wine and Woman for ever!" 
 
 " A very good song and very well sung," said 
 Rowley, eyeing the young officer with a ludicrous 
 mixture of drunkenness and curiosity. " But pri- 
 thee, there's a sweet fellow of thine inches, do tell 
 us what wench is this whom those two great lords 
 affect? I'll never betray thee; thou knowest there is 
 honour among thieves, and whoever trusts me trusts 
 a rogue." 
 
 " Nay, youth, it were not consonant to the ex- 
 cellent honour of thy recent murther and future ex- 
 pectations, to betray thy lady's confidence," said Vil- 
 liers, eagerly. 
 
 " Nay, she told it not in confidence; all the
 
 302 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 town may know but lier foolish Limberwell," re- 
 plied tlie officer, laugliing. " Look Here — I sliow 
 it in all companies — 'tis a present she made me this 
 morning, laughing very heartily at the fond Solo- 
 mon who gave it her scarce an hour before !" And 
 he threw down a diamond armlet of exquisite work- 
 manship and brilHancy. 
 
 " A present to thee !" exclaimed Rowley, snatch- 
 ing at it fiercely. " Why, thou girl-faced popinjay, 
 thou liest worse than the Black One ! A present to 
 thee ! Rogue, thou hast stolen it." 
 
 " Stolen it ! I scorn the word," rephed the offi- 
 cer, contemptuously, " and but that I see you are 
 mildewed with Hquor — why, I tell you, man, 'twas 
 Mistress Gwyn that gave it me, swearing she would 
 never have parted with it but to a fellow of my in- 
 finite merit." 
 
 *' What Nell Gwyn — Nelly Gwyn !" exclaimed 
 Rowley, stuttering with rage. *' Why then — I say 
 — odd's life, I'll never stand it ! Give me the brace- 
 let, boy, and I'll see thee hung yet an I be not my- 
 self.^' 
 
 " Only with my life will I surrender it," retorted 
 the youth, putting the bracelet in his bosom, and 
 cocking his hat fiercely.
 
 CHAKLES THE SECOND. 303 
 
 " Why then, with thy life," returned Rowley, 
 making a successful catch. " And now, an thou 
 wouldst win it back, out with thy rapier. Pll not 
 show the white feather so soon as the cliicken thou 
 hast killed by surprise." 
 
 " Marry, Pm tired of kilHng for this sunset," 
 said the officer, carelessly. " But now you know 
 the lady's name, gentlemen, you surely have not the 
 confidence to deny what I have asserted of you — of 
 you, false nobles ! for you are not disguised so much 
 by these beggar's clothes as ye are in your earl's 
 mantles." 
 
 " I will not brook so base a Hbel in this pre- 
 sence !" exclaimed Villiers, springing up and draw- 
 ing his sword. 
 
 '* ^Tis a scandal on human nature," said Wihnot, 
 drawing his blade simultaneously. 
 
 " Fie on you, gentlemen! the odds are not fair, 
 and I'll stand on the youth's side," said Claude, 
 flashing his sword out, and waving it in a graceful 
 flourish. 
 
 "And I'll throw tliis bottle at any body's head 
 that touches him," exclaimed Mervyn, seizing a de- 
 canter, and blushinsf scarlet with indio^nation.
 
 304 CHAELES THE SECOXD. 
 
 " Faitli, brothers, thanking ye, I need no aid," 
 said tlie officer mth perfect sang-froid. " I'll make 
 mincemeat of him who stirs, for or against me — 
 skewer ye on my sword hke kidneys. Zounds, 
 sirs, do you think I am to be bulhed by a parcel of 
 poor knaves in a Ram-alley tavern?" 
 
 " Why, what proof canst thou allege, rogue ! that 
 we — that I, Buckingham, could ever so betray my 
 royal master?" exclaimed VilHers. 
 
 "Or that I?" shouted Wilmot. 
 
 " WHiy, since you challenge me to the proof, my 
 lords, here is one not easily refuted," said the seem- 
 ing officer laughing, and taking off his hat he shook 
 a shower of rich golden ringlets over his beautiful 
 face. " Ye may stare, sweet gentlemen, but methmks 
 I should be able to report the truth concerning Nell 
 Gw3ai's sweethearts, eh?" 
 
 " Why, Neil, Nell, 'sHfe, what manner of wild 
 prank is this?" exclaimed Rowley, dropping his 
 sword. 
 
 " Why, Charles, Charles, what manner of wild 
 prank is tliis?" returned the eccentric beauty. " Are 
 you turned squire of Alsatia ? Is this a proper place 
 for the majesty of England to harbour in? Shame
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 305 
 
 on ye, lords, to bring your king to these roguish 
 haunts of yours, and peril the safety of England on 
 the point of some rude taverner's sword !" 
 
 " Nell, Nell, thou art the indiscreetest creature !" 
 ejaculated the king, catcliing her in his arms. " And 
 the sweetest officer! — but, Nell, these rattlesome 
 pranks of thine will undo thee some day." 
 
 " Est-il possible I are you the king, Mr. Rowley?" 
 exclaimed Claude. " But king or cobbler, you are a 
 hearty good fellow, and that's better. Sweet mistress 
 Nell, I do commend me, as a sometime acquaintance, 
 to your recollection." 
 
 " And, Claude, thou art a good fellow too in thy 
 way," said the king, rising with dignity. " But for 
 all that, if I catch thee in my sheriffs' clutches, thou 
 shalt as certainly swing for it as the sun sets that 
 day." 
 
 " And, Charles, thou art a better fellow than 
 nine-tenths of the rogues that wear crowns," replied 
 Claude, who was much intoxicated. '* But if I 
 catch thee alone, and ease thee not of thy purse, the 
 sun shall never rise that morrow." 
 
 " It were scarce worth the pains," said Charles, 
 good-humouredly. 
 
 *' But, sweet mistress Nell, beseech you," said 
 
 YOL. I. X
 
 306 CHAELES THE SECOND. 
 
 Wilmot, in his most blandishing tone. *' You do 
 not mean to accuse us to liis majesty of such treason?" 
 " Yea, and half the men of the court," replied 
 Nell, with a roguish look, which made both the 
 nobles smile and colour too. " But the best of ye 
 got but a tart speech, or it may be the tag-end of an 
 old song for your pains — 
 
 " Nay, never blusli brother knave ! 
 ' Tis a title as common and old as the grave !" 
 
 sung she off. 
 
 "Tut, sirs, I forgive ye — ye are men like the rest," 
 interrupted Charles. " But it is full time we were 
 wagging. Nell, thou hast brought me back to my 
 senses. Here's mine arm, thou spruce little soldier 
 — hast any conveyance at hand?" 
 
 " My barge waits at the stairs below, and the men 
 w^ill know none of us in these disguises," repHed 
 Nell; "so let us to Whitehall with all diligence! 
 'Tis a bet between me and my lady Castlemaine, 
 and I have won it." 
 
 " Come with us, lords," said Charles, smihng. 
 " Farewell, Duval; rob only rogues, and the whole 
 human race are thy bankers. Blood, look to thy 
 nephew: see how heavy sleep hangs on his fine
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 307 
 
 eyes ; and bring Mm with thee to court, when thou 
 art sufficiently out of trouble to come there thy- 
 self." 
 
 Tliese words broke up the disorderly revehy. 
 The king, his courtiers, and Nell Gwyn, took their 
 way down the Friary to embark for Whitehall ; and 
 mine host being roused, was with difficulty made to 
 understand that he was to prepare a bed for the 
 yomig kid, as he called him. A truckle bed, in a 
 garret destitute of all other furniture save rats, two 
 or three old saddles, and some bundles of hay, was 
 then prepared for Mervyn ; but miserable as was the 
 accommodation he was so exhausted with fatigue and 
 drink that he dropped asleep the instant he lay down 
 upon it. 
 
 Blood and Duval prolonged their festival to a 
 later hour; Mrs. Temperance was snoring on the 
 stairs, and old Simon himself Hterally fell asleep 
 with a lighted candle in his hand, on the threshold 
 of Mervyn's garret. Luckily it was extinguished in 
 the fall, and the night past with marvellous tran- 
 quilhty — considering. 
 
 x2
 
 308 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE UXXATURAL MOTHER. 
 
 Late on the following morning Mervyn was 
 awakened by the entrance of some person into his 
 garret; and, starting up, he saw, with dazzled eyes, 
 a fio'ure which he at first mistook for a Jew. It 
 was clothed in a long mantle of green baize, with 
 a slouching Spanish hat, and had a short grizzly 
 beard, though the eyebrows were unnaturally black. 
 A sort of pedler's pack was slung on his back, con- 
 taining a few articles such as the Jews at that 
 period were wont to hawk about the streets. 
 
 " Get up, boy," he said, in a tone which Mervyn 
 instantly recognised. " It is late, and good luck is
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 30^ 
 
 waiting for you. I intend to introduce you to a 
 most noble lady, a friend of mine, wlio may, per- 
 chance, put you in a way of advancement." 
 
 " Colonel Blood !" exclaimed ]Mervyn, with an 
 involuntary shudder. 
 
 " Thou marvellest to see me thus 'guised ?" said 
 the colonel. " The truth is, I dare not step out of 
 the Sanctuary without some precautions. But make 
 no delay; dress thyself and join me suddenly in 
 the room below, where I am breakfasting." 
 
 Mervyn obeyed, though with a reluctance which 
 increased with every reflection that he made as he 
 proceeded. Tlie events of the previous night swam 
 in his memory hke a dream, and for some moments 
 he could scarcely think it otherwise ; so improbable 
 did it appear to him that the king and nobles of so 
 great a country as England could thus degrade theh 
 dignity. 
 
 Blood, ^however, allowed him but little time to 
 reflect on liis situation. He shouted to him to come 
 down, in a harsh voice wliich he dared not disobey 
 He foimd a substantial breakfast, which they par- 
 took in almost total silence, and then Blood made 
 preparations for a sortie. Mer^^n watched his toi- 
 let with some curiosity. He put on a wig which
 
 310 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 fell in long matted locks on liis shoulders, and muf- 
 fled up liis jaws with an old shawl, so that little 
 was visible but liis fierce eyes. Then after a morn- 
 ing draught with httle Simon, they took their way 
 down Water-lane. The colonel took a boat at the 
 stairs, and giving the men directions w^here to go, 
 stretched himself lazily at the prow, wliile Mervyn 
 sat silently watching the brilhant play of the sun on 
 the waters. 
 
 Aumerle House was the place named by Blood, 
 wliich, as he had heard the name before, under pe- 
 culiar circumstances, rather excited Mervyn's atten- 
 tion. They landed at Westminster Stairs, whence 
 Blood, keeping a sharp look out on his young com- 
 panion, turned do-\vn a series of streets and gar- 
 dens — perhaps with a view to bewilder him — and 
 emerged at length before a lordly mansion, whose 
 gardens descended to the river. It was of an an- 
 tique style of architecture, rich and elaborate, like 
 that Avhich distinguished the era of Henry VH. 
 and was environed with aU the appurtenances of 
 the highest rank and luxury. Embroidered porters 
 opened the gate, and a crowd of menials appeared 
 in the haU beyond, gaming or playing on musical 
 instruments, apparently for their own amusement.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 311 
 
 Mervyn was surprised at the ease witli wliicli 
 they obtained admittance to tliis palace, Blood 
 merely muttering a few cabalistical words to the 
 porter, as they passed into the haU. A nimble page 
 instantly darted before them to announce their ap- 
 proach, and they followed in silence through a series 
 of antique but very magnificent apartments. They 
 paused at length at the entrance of an apartment 
 defended by a large gilded screen, where the page 
 motioned them to wait his retmn. 
 
 Blood amused himself in the mean time by peep- 
 ing between the chinks of the screen, an example 
 which ^lervyn followed. He perceived a room of 
 great extent, the walls of which were of dark oak, 
 elaborately carved, and broken into deep recesses of 
 emblazoned windows. At the farther end was a pro- 
 jecting fireplace, also most richly carved in oak, in 
 which was a bright fire in a silver grate, moulded 
 to represent a dragon. Beside this, in a huge vel- 
 vet chair, sat a lady embroidering lace in a frame. 
 Little of her countenance could be discerned, but 
 Mervyn saw that she was pale. Her dress was 
 extremely rich, consisting of black velvet, laced in 
 gold to the knee ; and from the flash of the fire- 
 light occasionally, he thought she wore many and 
 rich jewels. ]\Ier^'}Ti watched the page as he re
 
 312 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 verently approaclied, and saw that tlic lady started 
 at tlie name he pronounced, and turning suddenly, 
 he beheld a countenance of great beauty, but deeply 
 care-worn, and remarkable for the gloom and hau- 
 teur of its expression. 
 
 The page returned instantly, with a message that 
 the Lady Howard desired Master Isaac to approach 
 with his eastern drug, which he said was so excel- 
 lent to cause sleep. Desiring Mervyn to tarry Avith 
 the pack. Blood stepped feebly forward, leaving the 
 youth in his distant station behind the screen. 
 
 At first Blood feigned to move up the chamber 
 with the slow step and decrepit bend natural to the 
 age he assumed; but, when out of earshot, he sud- 
 denly resumed his bold stride and approached the 
 lady without any of those reverential observances 
 which her high rank seemed to demand. It ap- 
 peared as if she noticed this, for she waved her hand 
 impatiently, and said, 
 
 " Friend Isaac, methinks if we have any observers, 
 thou art near enough for tliine assumed office. Pri- 
 thee, what new mystery is this ? What drug hath 
 thy pernicious hand gathered, to lay balm on a bleed- 
 ins^ conscience?" 
 
 " I come, madam," repHed the pretended Jew, "to
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 313 
 
 crave some small supply from your generosity, to 
 baffle for a time the fangs of famine, wliicli are ready 
 to seize on me." 
 
 '' I have told you aheady, Mr. Blood, you have 
 exhausted both my compassion, and the means of gra- 
 tifying it," replied the lady. " You know well whe- 
 ther or not I have repaid the — the service — wliich 
 it was my direful misfortune to need at your hands ; 
 and you are but too well aware that my Lord How- 
 ard's extravagances leave me but httle even for mine 
 own urgent wants, and the maintenance of his great 
 household. I cannot supply the extravagance of all 
 the mad profligates in London. I presume, Mr. 
 Blood, you will next command me to give bail be- 
 fore the parhament on your notable cause mth his 
 grace of Ormonde?'' 
 
 '* Methinks my services might demand even that 
 recompense, madam," repHed the colonel, resolutely. 
 *' Wlio is it that hath given you the happiness and 
 freedom of your present life? — tliis gorgeous palace — 
 these ample revenues — the man you love? Where 
 were you now, but for one bold hand and imllinch- 
 ing heart? — Li brief, lady, I must have money, and 
 you cannot in gratitude — you dare not in pohcy — 
 refuse me ! What I need is a mere trifle, to pre-
 
 314 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 serve an old friend from starvation — absolute starva- 
 tion!" 
 
 *' Why, two pieces of copper a day might do 
 that," replied the lady, bitterly. " But I know you 
 too well, Blood, to think that you hmit your de- 
 mands to an anchorite's prayer. You are a man of 
 spirit, lead a gay life, have your quahty intrigues ! 
 But, sir, I tell you, I will no longer be the slave of 
 your menaces. Do your worst ! — what can you do ?" 
 
 "What can I do?" repeated Blood with a dark 
 smile. "I will answer you, lady. I can with a 
 breath, a word, precipitate you from wealth, mag- 
 nificence, honoiu' and love — into poverty, shame, 
 detestation! The heir of Aumerle — the rightful 
 heir — Hves, and I have it in my power to restore 
 him to all his rights." 
 
 "Thou hest, unearthly villain, thou hest!" ex- 
 claimed the countess, turning deadly pale. " The 
 heir of Aumerle was drowned — burned — whelmed 
 at once by fire and water ! You yourself, monster, 
 assured me of tliis, with all the pledges that could 
 bind even the fiend to truth." 
 
 " And so I thought myself at the time, lady," 
 said the colonel, calmly. "But I was deceived. 
 It was an ancient and £:ood maxim of the Cardinal
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 315 
 
 Riclielieu never to believe liis enemy dead till he 
 saw liis carcass. Wlio ever found tlie body of young 
 Reginald? No, lady, I warn you. Tlie waves and 
 fire have given up their prey, and in the saint's 
 language, he may perchance prove — the avenger of 
 blood!" 
 
 " Methinks that were small advantage to you, 
 colonel," said Lady Howard with a spasmodic smile. 
 
 *' And stiU less to you, madam, for you have more 
 to lose," answered Blood. " And surely the hand 
 that sharpens the knife is as guilty as that which 
 plunges it?" 
 
 " I have been but too much accustomed to this 
 language from your mouth to resent it," said the 
 countess. '*But who, let me ask you, Mr. Blood, 
 would listen to such an accusation from such a 
 tongue ? But you say, the heir of Aumerle lives ! 
 Let us see this heir — where is he?" 
 
 " Speak low, madam, or he wiU hear you," said 
 Blood, calmly. " He is here, in this house, in this 
 hall of his ancestors — a stranger I" 
 
 *' What mean you, audacious man?" exclaimed 
 Lady Howard with a quivering spasm of her whole 
 frame. 
 
 " Be not alarmed, lady," said Blood; " as yet he
 
 316 CHAELES THE SECOND. 
 
 knov/s nothinir of liis birtli nor of tlie events which 
 have made him a wretched fomidUng, depending on 
 charity for hfe and bread." 
 
 "A pleasantly -imagined romance, Master Colonel," 
 said the countess with a laus^h in which there was 
 no mirth. " But think not to make me the fool of 
 a sorry imposture. I can produce against your new 
 testimony that which you gave at the trial of Claude 
 Duval — that you saw him perish — for which testi- 
 mony you received two thousand pounds from my 
 hand." 
 
 " A pleasant document, methinks, to be produced 
 in a court of justice by a mother ! But I have writ- 
 ings which, without implicating myself, would over- 
 throw all your defences. In brief, Claude Duval 
 saved the child, and transferred it safely to St. Omer, 
 though, to baffle our bloodhound scent, he stated, 
 at his trial, that it perished on the night of the great 
 fire. And, briefly, I have inveigled the youth 
 into my power, to be used as I please, or rather, 
 madam, as you determine." 
 
 " I see it all; 'tis a base forgery, coined to extort 
 money," said the countess, vehemently. " But think 
 not, Blood, think not any longer to play upon the 
 strings of terror in my woman's heart; you have
 
 CHAKLES THE SECOND. 317 
 
 worn tKem out. God help me ! I do scarce care if 
 you accomplish the worst your hate can threaten — 
 which methinks I suffer in the fearing." 
 
 " Force me not to that pass, Lady Howard, or it 
 will be ill for both," said the colonel. " You forget 
 that I am a man of sudden resolves, and though I 
 sold you the jewels and precious documents found 
 in Duval's cloak, I reserved certain papers for mine 
 own use." 
 
 " Villain ! — but 'tis all the coinage of thy false 
 heart !" exclaimed the countess, passionately. 
 
 " Nay then, you shall not doubt it; you shall see 
 him," said Blood. " Ho there— Ichabod !" 
 
 " One moment, Blood, one moment !" ejaculated 
 the lady, turning perfectly wliite. " Is he — is 
 he—]ikchim?" 
 
 " The late earl? — ^judge for yourself," replied the 
 colonel. " Ichabod !" 
 
 Mervyn emerged from behind the screen, and ad- 
 vanced •with the timidity and hesitation natural to 
 one so unaccustomed to the world, his fine complex- 
 ion mantling with a deep blush. The countess col- 
 lected herself by a strong effort, and though she was 
 still deadly pale, her eyes were fixed upon him with 
 a wild intensity which increased his confusion. What
 
 318 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 tlionglits were passing in lier mind ! wliat a confusion 
 of recollections ! wliat vivid contrasts of wliat was 
 with wliat might have heen^ as Merv3m, lier disowned 
 and only cliild, stood before lier ! Even Blood grew 
 somewliat alarmed at tlie lengtli and fixedness of this 
 scrutiny, but lie was too perfect a master of dissimu- 
 lation to suffer any emotion to be visible. 
 
 " Madam," lie said, after a moment's pause, " here 
 is the young orphan of whom I spoke." 
 
 *' Pray you, good youth," said the countess, hur- 
 riedly, " stand forward in the light." 
 
 ''Wliat ails you, madam?" said Blood; for, as 
 the hglit fell on Mervyn's face, the countess uttered 
 a loud exclamation of surprise. 
 
 " Nothing, nothing!*" said the lady, shutting her 
 eyes with a strong shudder. " Blood, are you man 
 or devil, to gaze unblenchingly on that face?" she 
 added, in a stifled whisper. 
 
 " A comely youth indeed, as you say, my lady," 
 rephed the colonel, in an unaltered tone. " Indeed 
 there are not lacking men who say that he some- 
 thing resembles your own illustrious family of 
 Aumeiie." 
 
 " Wliat is your name, youth, and of Avhat H- 
 neage?" said the countess, after a pause.
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 319 
 
 " My name is Mervyn, madam," replied tlie 
 youth, in a voice wliicli thrilled through the coun- 
 tess's nerves. 
 
 *' Mervyn! ay, but your Christian name; surely 
 you have two names?" she said, hastily. 
 
 " I never heard myself called aught but Mervyn, 
 yet Colonel Blood says my name is Ichabod." 
 
 " What! have you no father, cliild?" said the 
 countess, leaning forward, and gazing in liis face as 
 if she could read into his very soul. 
 
 '^ I had neither father nor mother, ever to know 
 them," he murmured, with the same Hngering sad- 
 ness of tone. 
 
 *' Nor mother!" repeated Lady Howard, w4th a 
 glance at Blood. " Nor mother! You hear him. 
 Blood, and my heart does not break!" continued 
 the countess, in a low tone; " prithee let him 
 go, ere it swell too full of anguish, and burst my 
 breast." 
 
 " Mervyn," said the colonel, gently, " the noble 
 lady Hkes you, and may hereafter do something for 
 you. Now kiss her ladyship's hand and retire." 
 
 " No, no, I cannot, I may not!" exclaimed the 
 countess, starting from her chair as if at the approach 
 of a serpent. " On your life, touch me not, boy !
 
 320 CHAKLES THE SECOND. 
 
 I mean," she added, with an hysteric laugh — " I am 
 afraid, for they say the malign spotted fever is still 
 rife in that unwholesome district whence you come ; 
 — not that I fear it, — not that I fear it I" And she 
 laughed long and wildly, until, sinking exhaustedly 
 into her chair, a shower of tears came to her relief. 
 
 " Retire, Mervyn; my lady Howard is subject to 
 these fits," said the unrelenting colonel ; '* especially 
 when she sees a youth of your figure ; for many years 
 ago she lost a son, who, had he lived, would have 
 been much of thy inches." 
 
 Mervyn bowed humbly to the lady, and resumed 
 his distant station behind the screen. 
 
 " Well, madam, are you convinced?" said Blood, 
 as the boy disappeared, '* or must I bring those 
 written proofs in play which will surely reinstate 
 liim in all that should rightfully be his?" 
 
 " Is this then the drus: to restore me the calm 
 sleep whereof your too ready villany deprived me 
 for ever?" said Lady Howard, passionately. 
 
 " They who dice with fate, lady, must stand the 
 hazard of the throw," rephed he, significantly. " But 
 take not on so sadly ; all may be well again if you 
 but will it." 
 
 *' Speak — what would you? I am the slave of
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 321 
 
 jour spell," said the countess, in a tone of deep 
 despair. 
 
 " Lady Howard," replied the colonel, apparently 
 omewhat moved by her emotion, " beautiful lady ! 
 for whom I have perilled soul and body, lured by 
 what magic I dare not now remind you ! nothing 
 but my extreme necessity should force me to use 
 this engine against you." 
 
 " Well, what do you need, sir?" said the coun- 
 tess, in the same tranquil tone of despair. " Cost 
 what it wiU, I must conceal that horrid by-gone from 
 Howard ; I cannot afford to lose the only heart that 
 loves me." 
 
 " Five hundred guineas will deliver you for ever 
 from my importunities," repHed Blood. 
 
 " Five hundred guineas ! Well, it is but gold," 
 ejaculated the lady. " And yet Howard but now 
 craved a smaller sum of me in vain. But wilt thou 
 swear to me (for I have known thee true to thy oath, 
 through perils which would have dashed to pieces 
 the faith of honester men) — wilt thou swear never to 
 trouble me more on this account?" 
 
 Blood uttered an asseveration which made even 
 Lady Howard shudder. She then drew her chair to 
 the table, where there was a silver standish, and began 
 
 VOL. I. Y
 
 322 CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 writing, wMle Blood continued to gaze on her beau- 
 tiful countenance, wHcli, flushed as it was with vio- 
 lent emotion, was still indescribahly lovely. Sud- 
 denly, however, she paused, and seemed lost in 
 revery; then, raising her eyes to his, with an ex- 
 pression so emphatic that it needed not words to 
 make her meaning apparent, she murmured in a 
 hollow, unearthly tone, "Understand me without 
 speech ! Wouldst thou for twice, for thrice, — this 
 sum, — rid me of this care — -for ever ?" 
 
 As Blood stared in astonishment at her words, she 
 divined the meaning of his looks, and continued — 
 " Nay, not that — Heaven forbid !" said the countess, 
 hurriedly, and relapsing into deadly whiteness. ' 'But 
 there are other means — the plantations ! Oh, Blood, 
 Blood, you know not to what madness I am driven ! 
 And it is too late to repent — too late ! — AVliat if this 
 boy be the destined avenger of his father's — " 
 
 "Suicide?" said Blood, calmly filling the pause. 
 " But no, it is impossible. He knows nothing of 
 his birth, suspects nothing. Trouble yourself no 
 more about him ; he shall never even dream what 
 may offend you. Henceforth your troubles with 
 both of us are over — and I kiss your fair hand on 
 mj oath."
 
 CHARLES THE SECOND. 323 
 
 And saying this, the colonel gallantly raised her 
 hand to his lips, and pressing it with a Httle Irish 
 warmth, she withdrew it abruptly, and with dis- 
 pleasure visible in the dark flash of her eye. He 
 affected not to notice this, but quietly examined the 
 paper, and muttering that he should have preferred 
 gold, bowed to the lady's impatient waive, and 
 moved a few steps as if to retire. He returned, 
 however, so suddenly that the countess started. 
 
 *' You are alarmed, madam," he said in a deep 
 warning tone. " But keep your faith with me, and 
 you have no cause. Attempt not the Hfe of this 
 orphan, for if you do, I shall know that mine own 
 is in jeopardy. So long as his person remains un- 
 injured, I will never cross this threshold without 
 your permission ; but the instant that is attempted I 
 will hunt, harass, let myself loose upon you ! So 
 look to it." 
 
 Saying this, he passed into the antechamber; 
 motioned ^lervyn to follow him ; and passed into 
 the street, attended by his young victim. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 C. WHITING BEAUFOET HOUSE, STRAND.
 
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 UNIVERSrTY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 
 
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