Simon Dale

  CHAPTER XV

  M. DE PERRENCOURT WHISPERS

  Slowly the room and the scene came back to me, disengaging themselvesfrom the darkness which had settled on my eyes, regaining distinctnessand their proper form. I was sitting in a chair, and there were wetbandages about my head. Those present before were there still, save M.de Perrencourt, whose place at the table was vacant; the large sheet ofpaper and the materials for writing had vanished. There was a freshgroup at the end, next to Arlington; here now sat the Dukes of Monmouthand Buckingham, carrying on a low conversation with the Secretary. TheKing lay back in his chair, frowning and regarding with severe gaze aman who stood opposite to him, almost where I had been when I drank ofthe King's cup. There stood Darrell and the lieutenant of the Guards whohad arrested me, and between them, with clothes torn and muddy, facescratched and stained with blood, with panting breath and gleaming eyes,firmly held by either arm, was Phineas Tate the Ranter. They had sentand caught him then, while I lay unconscious. But what led them tosuspect him?

  There was the voice of a man speaking from the other side of this partyof three. I could not see him, for their bodies came between, but Irecognised the tones of Robert, Darrell's servant. It was he, then, whohad put them on Jonah's track, and, in following that, they must havecome on Phineas.

  "We found the two together," he was saying, "this man and Mr Dale'sservant who had brought the wine from the town. Both were armed withpistols and daggers, and seemed ready to meet an attack. In the alley infront of the house that I have named----"

  "Yes, yes, enough of the house," interrupted the King impatiently.

  "In the alley there were two horses ready. We attacked the men at once,the lieutenant and I making for this one here, the two with us strivingto secure Jonah Wall. This man struggled desperately, but seemedignorant of how to handle his weapons. Yet he gave us trouble enough,and we had to use him roughly. At last we had him, but then we foundthat Jonah, who fought like a wild cat, had wounded both the soldierswith his knife, and, although himself wounded, had escaped by thestairs. Leaving this man with the lieutenant, I rushed down after him,but one of the horses was gone, and I heard no sound of hoofs. He hadgot a start of us, and is well out of Dover by now."

  I was straining all my attention to listen, yet my eyes fixed themselveson Phineas, whose head was thrown back defiantly. Suddenly a voice camefrom behind my chair.

  "That man must be pursued," said M. de Perrencourt. "Who knows thatthere may not be accomplices in this devilish plot? This man has plannedto poison the King; the servant was his confederate. I say, may therenot have been others in the wicked scheme?"

  "True, true," said the King uneasily. "We must lay this Jonah Wall bythe heels. What's known of him?"

  Thinking the appeal was made to me, I strove to rise. M. dePerrencourt's arm reached over the back of my chair and kept me down. Iheard Darrell take up the story and tell what he knew--and it was asmuch as I knew--of Jonah Wall, and what he knew of Phineas Tate also.

  "It is a devilish plot," said the King, who was still greatly shaken andperturbed.

  Then Phineas spoke loudly, boldly, and with a voice full of therapturous fanaticism which drowned conscience and usurped in himreligion's place.

  "Here," he cried, "are the plots, here are the devilish plots! What doyou here? Aye, what do you plot here? Is this man's life more than God'sTruth? Is God's Word to be lost that the sins and debauchery of this manmay continue?"

  His long lean forefinger pointed at the King. A mute consternation fellfor an instant on them all, and none interrupted him. They had no answerready for his question; men do not count on such questions being askedat Court, the manners are too good there.

  "Here are the plots! I count myself blessed to die in the effort tothwart them! I have failed, but others shall not fail! God's Judgment issure. What do you here, Charles Stuart?"

  M. de Perrencourt walked suddenly and briskly round to where the Kingsat and whispered in his ear. The King nodded, and said,

  "I think this fellow is mad, but it's a dangerous madness."

  Phineas did not heed him, but cried aloud,

  "And you here--are you all with him? Are you all apostates from God? Areyou all given over to the superstitions of Rome? Are you all here tobarter God's word and----"

  The King sprang to his feet.

  "I won't listen," he cried. "Stop his cursed mouth. I won't listen." Helooked round with fear and alarm in his eyes. I perceived his gazeturned towards his son and Buckingham. Following it, I saw their facesalight with eagerness, excitement, and curiosity. Arlington looked downat the table; Clifford leant his head on his hand. At the other end theDuke of York had sprung up like his brother, and was glaring angrily atthe bold prisoner. Darrell did not wait to be bidden twice, but whippeda silk handkerchief from his pocket.

  "Here and now the deed is being done!" cried Phineas. "Here and now----"He could say no more; in spite of his desperate struggles, he was gaggedand stood silent, his eyes still burning with the message which his lipswere not suffered to utter. The King sank back in his seat, and cast afurtive glance round the table. Then he sighed, as though in relief, andwiped his brow. Monmouth's voice came clear, careless, confident.

  "What's this madness?" he asked. "Who here is bartering God's Word? Andfor what, pray?"

  No answer was given to him; he glanced in insolent amusement atArlington and Clifford, then in insolent defiance at the Duke of York.

  "Is not the religion of the country safe with the King?" he asked,bowing to his father.

  "So safe, James, that it does not need you to champion it," said theKing dryly; yet his voice trembled a little. Phineas raised that leanforefinger at him again, and pointed. "Tie the fellow's arms to hisside," the King commanded in hasty irritation; he sighed again when thefinger could no longer point at him, and his eyes again furtively soughtMonmouth's face. The young Duke leant back with a scornful smile, andthe consciousness of the King's regard did not lead him to school hisface to any more seemly expression. My wits had come back now, althoughmy head ached fiercely and my body was full of acute pain; but Iwatched all that passed, and I knew that, come what might, they wouldnot let Phineas speak. Yet Phineas could know nothing. Nay, but theshafts of madness, often wide, may once hit the mark. The paper that hadlain between the King and M. de Perrencourt was hidden.

  Again the French gentleman bent and whispered in the King's ear. Hespoke long this time, and all kept silence while he spoke--Phineasbecause he must, the lieutenant with surprised eyes, the rest in thatseeming indifference which, as I knew, masked their real deference. Atlast the King looked up, nodded, and smiled. His air grew calmer andmore assured, and the trembling was gone from his voice as he spoke.

  "Come, gentlemen," said he, "while we talk this ruffian who has escapedus makes good pace from Dover. Let the Duke of Monmouth and the Duke ofBuckingham each take a dozen men and scour the country for him. I shallbe greatly in the debt of either who brings him to me."

  The two Dukes started. The service which the King demanded of thementailed an absence of several hours from the Castle. It might be thatthey, or one of them, would learn something from Jonah Wall; but it wasfar more likely that they would not find him, or that he would notsuffer himself to be taken alive. Why were they sent, and not a coupleof the officers on duty? But if the King's object were to secure theirabsence, the scheme was well laid. I thought now that I could guesswhat M. de Perrencourt had said in that whispered conference. Buckinghamhad the discretion to recognise when the game went against him. He roseat once with a bow, declaring that he hastened to obey the King'scommand, and would bring the fellow in, dead or alive. Monmouth had lessself-control. He rose indeed, but reluctantly and with a sullen frown onhis handsome face.

  "It's poor work looking for a single man over the countryside," hegrumbled.

  "Your devotion to me will inspire and guide you, James," observed theKing. A chance of mocking another made him himself again as no othercure could. "Come, lose no
time." Then the King added: "Take this fellowaway, and lock him up. Mr Darrell, see that you guard him well, and letnobody come near him."

  M. de Perrencourt whispered.

  "Above all, let him speak to nobody. He must tell what he knows only atthe right time," added the King.

  "When will that be?" asked Monmouth audibly, yet so low that the Kingcould feign not to hear and smiled pleasantly at his son. But still theDuke lingered, although Buckingham was gone and Phineas Tate had beenled out between his custodians. His eyes sought mine, and I read anappeal in them. That he desired to take me with him in pursuit of JonahWall, I did not think; but he desired above all things to get me out ofthat room, to have speech with me, to know that I was free to work outthe scheme which Buckingham had disclosed to me. Nay, it was notunlikely that his search for Jonah Wall would lead him to the hostelryof the Merry Mariners at Deal. And for my plan too, which differed solittle yet so much from his, for that also I must be free. I rose to myfeet, delighted to find that I could stand well and that my pains grewno more severe with movement.

  "I am at your Grace's orders," said I. "May I ride with you, sir?"

  The King looked at me doubtfully.

  "I should be glad of your company," said the Duke, "if your healthallows."

  "Most fully, sir," I answered, and turning to the King I begged hisleave to depart. And that leave I should, as I think, have obtained, butfor the fact that once again M. de Perrencourt whispered to the King.The King rose from his seat, took M. de Perrencourt's arm and walkedwith him to where his Grace stood. I watched them, till a little stifledlaugh caught my attention. Madame's face was merry, and hers the laugh.She saw my look on her and laughed again, raising her finger to her lipsin a swift stealthy motion. She glanced round apprehensively, but heraction had passed unnoticed; the Duke of York seemed sunk in a dullapathy, Clifford and Arlington were busy in conversation. What did shemean? Did she confess that I held their secret and impose silence on meby a more than royal command, by the behest of bright eyes and red lipswhich dared me to betray their confidence? On the moment's impulse Ibowed assent; Madame nodded merrily and waved a kiss with her daintyhand; no word passed, but I felt that I, being a gentleman, could tellno man alive what I suspected, aye, what I knew, concerning M. dePerrencourt. Thus lightly are pledges given when ladies ask them.

  The Duke of Monmouth started back with a sudden angry motion. The Kingsmiled at him; M. de Perrencourt laid a hand, decked with rich rings, onhis lace cuff. Madame rose, laughing still, and joined the three. Icannot tell what passed--alas, that the matters of highest interest arealways elusive!--but a moment later Monmouth fell back with as sour alook as I have ever seen on a man's face, bowed slightly and notover-courteously, faced round and strode through the doorway, openingthe door for himself. I heard Madame's gay laugh, again the King spoke,Madame cried, "Fie," and hid her face with her hand. M. de Perrencourtadvanced towards me; the King caught his arm. "Pooh, he knows already,"muttered Perrencourt, half under his breath, but he gave way, and theKing came to me first.

  "Sir," said he, "the Duke of Monmouth has had the dutiful kindness torelease his claim on your present services, and to set you free to serveme."

  I bowed very low, answering,

  "His Grace is bountiful of kindness to me, and has given the greatestproof of it in enabling me to serve Your Majesty."

  "My pleasure is," pursued the King, "that you attach yourself to myfriend M. de Perrencourt here, and accompany him and hold yourself athis disposal until further commands from me reach you."

  M. de Perrencourt stepped forward and addressed me.

  "In two hours' time, sir," said he, "I beg you to be ready to accompanyme. A ship lies yonder at the pier, waiting to carry His Excellency M.Colbert de Croissy and myself to Calais to-night on business of moment.Since the King gives you to me, I pray your company."

  "Till then, Mr Dale, adieu," said the King. "Not a word of what haspassed here to-night to any man--or any woman. Be in readiness. You knowenough, I think, to tell you that you receive a great honour in M. dePerrencourt's request. Your discretion will show your worthiness. KissMadame's hand and leave us."

  They both smiled at me, and I stood half-bewildered. "Go," said M. dePerrencourt with a laugh, clapping me on the shoulder. The two turnedaway. Madame held out her hand towards me; I bent and kissed it.

  "Mr Dale," said she, "you have all the virtues."

  "Alas, Madame, I fear you don't mean to commend me."

  "Yes, for a rarity, at least. But you have one vice."

  "It shall be mended, if your Royal Highness will tell its name."

  "Nay, I shall increase it by naming it. But here it is; your eyes aretoo wide open, Mr Dale."

  "My mother, Madame, used to accuse me of a trick of keeping themhalf-shut."

  "Your mother had not seen you at Court, sir."

  "True, Madame, nor had my eyes beheld your Royal Highness."

  She laughed, pleased with a compliment which was well in the mode then,though my sons may ridicule it; but as she turned away she added,

  "I shall not be with you to-night, and M. de Perrencourt hates a staringeye."

  I was warned and I was grateful. But there I stopped. Since Heaven hadgiven me my eyes, nothing on earth could prevent them opening whenmatter worth the looking was presented. And perhaps they might be open,and yet seem shut to M. de Perrencourt. With a final salute to theexalted company I went out; as I went they resumed their places at thetable, M. de Perrencourt saying, "Come, let us finish. I must be awaybefore dawn."

  I returned to my quarters in no small turmoil; yet my head, though itstill ached sorely from the effect of tasting that draught sofortunately dashed from my hand, was clear enough, and I could puttogether all the pieces of the puzzle save one. But that one chanced tobe of some moment to me, for it was myself. The business with the Kingwhich had brought M. de Perrencourt so stealthily to Dover was finished,or was even now being accomplished; his presence and authority hadreinforced Madame's persuasions, and the treaty was made. But in thesehigh affairs I had no place. If I would find my work I must lookelsewhere, to the struggle that had arisen between M. de Perrencourt andhis Grace the Duke of Monmouth, in which the stakes were not wars orreligions, and the quarrel of simpler nature. In that fight Louis (for Idid not trouble to maintain his disguise in my thoughts) had won, as hewas certain to win if he put forth his strength. My heart was sore forMistress Barbara. I knew that she was to be the spoil of the FrenchKing's victory, and that the loss to the beauty of his Court caused bythe departure of Mlle. de Querouaille was to find compensation. But,still, where was my part? I saw only one thing: that Louis had taken aliking for me, and might well choose me as his instrument, if aninstrument were needed. But for what and where it was needed I could notconceive; since all France was under his feet, and a thousand men wouldspring up to do his bidding at a word--aye, let the bidding be what itmight, and the task as disgraceful as you will. What were the qualitiesin me or in my condition that dictated his choice baffled conjecture.

  Suddenly came a low knock on the door. I opened it and a man slipped inquickly and covertly. To my amazement, I saw Carford. He had kept muchout of sight lately; I supposed that he had discovered all he wantedfrom Monmouth's ready confidence, and had carried his ill-won gains tohis paymaster. But supposing that he would keep up the comedy I saidstiffly,

  "You come to me from the Duke of Monmouth, my lord?"

  He was in no mood for pretence to-night. He was in a state of greatexcitement, and, brushing aside all reserve, made at once for the point.

  "I am come," said he, "to speak a word with you. In an hour you're tosail for France?"

  "Yes," said I. "Those are the King's orders."

  "But in an hour you could be so far from here that he with whom you gocould not wait for your return."

  "Well, my lord?"

  "To be brief, what's your price to fly and not to sail?"

  We were standing, facing one another. I answered him slowl
y, trying tocatch his purpose.

  "Why are you willing to pay me a price?" said I. "For it's you whopays?"

  "Yes, I pay. Come, man, you know why you go and who goes with you?"

  "M. de Perrencourt and M. Colbert go," said I. "Why I go, I don't know."

  "Nor who else goes?" he asked, looking in my eyes. I paused for a momentand then answered,

  "Yes, she goes."

  "And you know for what purpose?"

  "I can guess the purpose."

  "Well, I want to go in your place. I have done with that fool Monmouth,and the French King would suit me well for a master."

  "Then ask him to take you also."

  "He will not; he'll rather take you."

  "Then I'll go," said I.

  He drew a step nearer to me. I watched him closely, for, on my life, Idid not know in what mood he was, and his honour was ill to lean on as awaving reed.

  "What will you gain by going?" he asked. "And if you fly he will takeme. Somebody he must take."

  "Is not M. Colbert enough?"

  He looked at me suspiciously, as though he thought that I assumedignorance.

  "You know very well that Colbert wouldn't serve his purpose."

  "By my faith," I cried, "I don't know what his purpose is."

  "You swear it?" he asked in distrust and amazement.

  "Most willingly," I answered. "It is simple truth."

  He gazed at me still as though but half-convinced.

  "Then what's your purpose in going?" he asked.

  "I obey my orders. Yet I have a purpose, and one I had rather trust withmyself than with you, my lord."

  "Pray, sir, what is it?"

  "To serve and guard the lady who goes also."

  After a moment of seeming surprise, he broke into a sneering laugh.

  "You go to guard her?" he said.

  "Her and her honour," I answered steadily. "And I do not desire toresign that task into your hands, my lord."

  "What will you do? How will you serve her?" he asked.

  A sudden suspicion of him seized me. His manner had changed to a forcedurbanity; when he was civil he was treacherous.

  "That's my secret, my lord," I answered. "I have preparations to make. Ipray you, give me leave." I opened the door and held it for him.

  His rage mastered him; he grew red and the veins swelled on hisforehead.

  "By heaven, you shan't go," he cried, and clapped his hand to his sword.

  "Who says that Mr Dale shall not go?"

  A man stood in the doorway, plainly attired, wearing boots, and a cloakthat half-hid his face. Yet I knew him, and Carford knew him. Carfordshrank back, I bowed, and we both bared our heads. M. de Perrencourtadvanced into the room, fixing his eyes on Carford.

  "My lord," he said, "when I decline a gentleman's services I am not tobe forced into accepting them, and when I say a gentleman shall go withme he goes. Have you a quarrel with me on that account?"

  Carford found no words in which to answer him, but his eyes told that hewould have given the world to draw his sword against M. de Perrencourt,or, indeed, against the pair of us. A gesture of the newcomer's armmotioned him to the door. But he had one sentence more to hear before hewas suffered to slink away.

  "Kings, my lord," said M. de Perrencourt, "may be compelled to set spiesabout the persons of others. They do not need them about their own."

  Carford turned suddenly white, and his teeth set. I thought that hewould fly at the man who rebuked him so scornfully; but such an outbreakmeant death; he controlled himself. He passed out, and Louis, with acareless laugh, seated himself on my bed. I stood respectfully oppositeto him.

  "Make your preparations," said he. "In half an hour's time we depart."

  I obeyed him, setting about the task of filling my saddle-bags with myfew possessions. He watched me in silence for awhile. At last he spoke.

  "I have chosen you to go with me," he said, "because although you know athing, you don't speak of it, and although you see a thing, you canappear blind."

  I remembered that Madame thought my blindness deficient, but I receivedthe compliment in silence.

  "These great qualities," he pursued, "make a man's fortune. You shallcome with me to Paris."

  "To Paris, sir?"

  "Yes. I'll find work for you there, and those who do my work lackneither reward nor honour. Come, sir, am I not as good a King to serveas another?"

  "Your Majesty is the greatest Prince in Christendom," said I. For suchindeed all the world held him.

  "Yet even the greatest Prince in Christendom fears some things," saidhe, smiling.

  "Surely nothing, sir?"

  "Why, yes. A woman's tongue, a woman's tears, a woman's rage, a woman'sjealousy; I say, Mr Dale, a woman's jealousy."

  It was well that my preparations were done, or they had never been done.I was staring at him now with my hands dropped to my side.

  "I am married," he pursued. "That is little." And he shrugged hisshoulders.

  "Little enough at Courts, in all conscience," thought I; perhaps my facebetrayed something of the thought, for King Louis smiled.

  "But I am more than a husband," he pursued. "I am a lover, Mr Dale."

  Not knowing what comment to make on this, I made none. I had heard thetalk about his infatuation, but it was not for me to mention the lady'sname. Nor did the King name her. He rose and approached me, looking fullin my face.

  "You are neither a husband nor a lover?" he asked.

  "Neither, sir."

  "You know Mistress Quinton?"

  "Yes, sir."

  He was close to me now, and he whispered to me as he had whispered tothe King in the Council Chamber.

  "With my favour and such a lady for his wife, a gentleman might climbhigh."

  I heard the words, and I could not repress a start. At last the puzzlewas pieced, and my part plain. I knew now the work I was to do, theprice of the reward I was to gain. Had he said it a month before, when Iwas not yet trained to self-control and concealment, King as he was, Iwould have drawn my sword on him. For good or evil dissimulation is soonlearnt. With a great effort I repressed my agitation and hid mydisgust. King Louis smiled at me, deeming what he had suggested noinsult.

  "Your wedding shall take place at Calais," he said; and I (I wonder nowto think of it) bowed and smiled.

  "Be ready in a quarter of an hour," said he, and left me with a gracioussmile.

  I stood there where I was for the best part of the time still left tome. I saw why Carford desired the mission on which I went, why Madamebade me practise the closing of my eyes, how my fortune was to come fromthe hand of King Louis. An English gentleman and his wife would travelback with the King; the King would give his favour to both; and the ladywas Barbara Quinton.

  I turned at last, and made my final preparation. It was simple; I loadedmy pistol and hid it about me, and I buckled on my sword, seeing that itmoved easily in the sheath. By fortune's will, I had to redeem thepledge which I had given to my lord; his daughter's honour now knew nosafety but in my arm and wits. Alas, how slender the chance was, and howgreat the odds!

  Then a sudden fear came upon me. I had lived of late in a Court wherehonour seemed dead, and women, no less than men, gave everything forwealth or place. I had seen nothing of her, no word had come from her tome. She had scorned Monmouth, but might she not be won to smile on M. dePerrencourt? I drove the thought from me, but it came again and again,shaming me and yet fastening on me. She went with M. de Perrencourt; didshe go willingly?

  With that thought beating in my brain, I stepped forth to my adventure.