CHAPTER XI

  _In the field, men; at court, women!_

  It was the evening of Portsmouth's long-awaited _bal masque_. Musicfilled her palace with rhythmic sound. In the gardens, its mellowingstrains died away among the shrubs and over-hanging boughs. In everynook and corner wandered at will the nobility--the richest--thegreatest--in the land.

  None entertain like the French; and the Duchess had, indeed, exhaustedFrench art in turning the grand old place into a land of ravishingenchantment, with its many lights, its flowers, its works of art. Herabode was truly an enlivening scene, with its variety of maskers, brightdominoes and vizards.

  The King was there and took a merry part in all the sport, although,beneath his swaggering abandon, there lurked a vein of sadness. Helaughed heartily, he danced gaily, he jested with one and all; but hismanner was assumed. The shrewdest woman's eye could not have seen it;though she might have felt it. Brother James too enjoyed the dance,despite his piety; and Buckingham, Rochester and a score of courtiersbeloved by the King entered mirthfully into the scene, applauding theDuchess's entertainment heartily.

  As the evening wore apace, the merry maskers grew merrier and merrier.In a drawing-room adjoining the great ball-room, a robber-band, noneother than several gallants, whose identity was concealed by silkenvizards, created huge amusement by endeavouring to steal a kiss fromLady Hamilton. She feigned shyness, then haughtiness, then anger; thenshe ran. They were after her and about her in an instant. There werecries of "A kiss!" "A kiss!" "This way!" "Make a circle or she'll escapeus!"

  A dozen kisses so were stolen by the eager gallants before my lady brokeaway, stamping her foot in indignation, as she exclaimed:

  "Nay, I am very angry, very--"

  "That there were no more, wench!" laughed Buckingham. "Marry, 'tis amerry night when Portsmouth reigns. Long live the Duchess in the King'sheart!"

  "So you may capture its fairer favourite, friend Buckingham?" suggestedthe King, softly; and there was no hidden meaning in his speech, for theKing suspected that Buckingham's heart as well was not at Portsmouth'sand Buckingham knew that the King suspected it.

  Buckingham was the prince of courtiers; he bowed low and, saying muchwithout saying anything, replied respectfully:

  "So I may console her, Sire, that she is out-beautied by Franceto-night."

  "Out-beautied! Not bidden, thou mean'st," exclaimed the King, histhoughts roving toward Nelly's terrace. Ah, how he longed to be there!"The room is close," he fretted. "Come, gallants, to the promenade!"

  He was dressed in white and gold; and a princely prince he looked,indeed, as the courtiers separated for him to pass out between them.

  All followed save Buckingham, whom Portsmouth's eye detained.

  She broke into a joyous laugh as she turned from the tapestry-curtains,through which she could see his Majesty--the centre of a mirthful scenewithout.

  "What say you now, my lord?" she asked, triumphantly, of Buckingham. "Iam half avenged already, and the articles half signed. The King is heredespite his Madame Gwyn, and in a playful mood that may be tuned tolove."

  Buckingham's ardour did not kindle as she hoped.

  "Merriment is oft but Sadness's mask, Louise," he replied, thoughtfully.

  "What meanest thou?" she asked, in her nervous, Gallic way, and asquickly, her mind anticipating, answered: "This trifle of the gossipsthat Charles advances the player's whim to found a hospital at Chelsea,for broken-down old soldiers? _Ce n'est rien!"_

  She broke into a mocking laugh.

  "Aye!" replied Buckingham, quietly but significantly. "The orders areissued for its building and the people are cheering Nell throughout therealm."

  "_Ma foi!_" came from the Duchess's contemptuous lips. "And whatsay the rabble of Portsmouth?"

  "That she is Louis's pensioner sent here from France--a spy!" heanswered, quickly and forcefully too. "The hawkers cry it in thestreets."

  "Fools! Fools!" she mused. Then, making sure that no arras had ears, shecontinued: "Before the night is done, thou shalt hear that Luxembourghas fallen to the French--Mark!--Luxembourg! Feed the rabble on that, mylord. Heaven preserve King Louis!"

  The Duke started incredulously. When had Portsmouth seen the King? andby what arts had she won the royal consent? A score of questionstrembled on his lips--and yet were checked before the utterance. Not anintimation before of her success had reached his ear, though he hadadvised with the Duchess almost daily since their accidental meetingbelow Nell's terrace. Indeed, in his heart, he had never believed thatshe would be able so to dupe the King. The shadow from the axe whichfell upon Charles I. still cast its warning gloom athwart the walls ofWhitehall; and, in the face of the temper of the English people and ofwell-known treaties, the acquiescence of Charles II. in Louis's projectwould be but madness. Luxembourg was the key strategetically to theNetherlands and the states beyond. Its fall meant the augmentation ofthe Empire of Louis, the personal ignominy of Charles!

  "Luxembourg!" He repeated the word cautiously. "King Charles did notconsent--"

  "Nay," replied the Duchess, in her sweetest way, "but I knew he would;and so I sent the message in advance."

  "Forgery! 'Twas boldly done, Louise," cried Buckingham, in tones ofadmiration mixed with fear.

  "I knew my power, my lord," she said confidently; and her eyes glistenedwith womanly pride as she added: "The consent will come."

  Buckingham's eyes--usually so frank--fell; and, for some seconds, hestood seemingly lost in abstraction over the revelations made by theDuchess. He was, however, playing a deeper game than he appeared toplay. Apparently in thoughtlessness, he began to toy with a ring whichhung upon a ribbon about his neck and which till then had beencautiously concealed.

  "Nay, what have you there?" questioned Portsmouth.

  Buckingham's face assumed an expression of surprise. He pretended not tocomprehend the import of her words.

  She pointed to the ring.

  He glanced at it as though he regretted it had been seen, then addedcarelessly, apparently to appease but really to whet the Duchess'scuriosity:

  "Merely a ring the King gave Nell."

  There was more than curiosity now in Portsmouth's eyes.

  "I borrowed it to show it you," continued Buckingham, indifferently,then asked, with tantalizing calmness: "Is your mission quite complete?"

  With difficulty, the Duchess mastered herself. Without replying, shewalked slowly toward the table, in troubled thought. The mask of crimerevealed itself in her beautiful features, as she said, half to herself:

  "I have a potion I brought from France."

  She was of the Latin race and poison was a heritage.

  Buckingham caught the words not meant for him, and realized too welltheir sinister meaning. Poison Nell! His eyes swept the room fearfullyand he shuddered. He hastened to Portsmouth's side, and in cold whispersimportuned her:

  "For Heaven's mercy, woman, as you love yourself and me--poison is anunhealthy diet to administer in England."

  The Duchess turned upon him impatiently. The black lines faded slowlyfrom her face; but they still were there, beneath the beauty-lines.

  "My servants have watched her house without avail," she sneered. "Yourplan is useless; my plan will work."

  "Stay!" pleaded Buckingham, still fearful. "We can ourselves entice someadventurous spirit up Nell's terrace, then trap him. So our end isreached."

  "Aye," replied the Duchess, in milder mood, realizing that she had beenover-hasty at least in speech, "the minx presumes to love the King, andso is honest! But of her later. The treaties! He shall signto-night--to-night, I say."

  With a triumphant air, she pointed to the quills and sand upon a tablein readiness for his signing.

  Buckingham smiled approvingly; and in his smile lurked flattery soadroit that it pleased the Duchess despite herself.

  "Lord Hyde, St. Albans and the rest," said he, "are here to aid thecause."

  "Bah!" answered Portsmouth, with a shrug. "In
the field, men; at court,women! This girl has outwitted you all. I must accomplish my missionalone. Charles must be Louis's pensioner in full; England the slave ofFrance! My fortune--_Le Grand Roi's_ regard--hang upon it."

  Buckingham cautioned her with a startled gesture.

  "Nay," smiled Portsmouth, complacently, "I may speak frankly, my lord;for your head is on the same block still with mine."

  "And my heart, Louise," he said, in admiration. "Back to the King! Donothing rash. We will banish thy rival, dear hostess."

  He did not add, save in thought, that Nell's banishment, if left to him,would be to his own country estate.

  There was almost a touch of affection in the Duchess's voice as sheprepared to join the King.

  "Leave all to me, my lord," she said, then courtesied low.

  "Yea, all but Nell!" reflected his lordship, as he watched her depart."With this ring, I'll keep thee wedded to jealous interest, and soenrich my purse and power. Thou art a great woman, fair France; I halflove thee myself. But thou knowest only a moiety of my purpose. Theother half is Nell!"

  He stood absorbed in his own thoughts.

  The draperies at the further doorway, on which was worked in Gobelintapestry a forest with its grand, imposing oaks, were pushed nervouslyaside. Jack Hart entered, mask in hand, and scanned the room withskeptic eye.

  "A happy meeting," mused Buckingham, reflecting upon Hart's one-timeardour for Mistress Nell and upon the possibility that that ardour, ifdirected by himself, might yet compromise Nell in the King's eyes andlead to the realization of his own fond dreams of greater wealth andpower and, still more sweet, to the possession of his choice among allthe beauties of the realm.

  "It is a sad hour," thought Hart, glancing at the merry dancers throughthe arch, "when all the world, like players, wear masks."

  Buckingham assumed an air of bonhomie.

  "Whither away, Master Hart?" he called after the player, who startedperceptibly at his voice. "Let not thy fancy play truant to this gayassemblage, to mope in St. James's Park."

  "My lord!" exclaimed Hart, hotly. The fire, however, was gone in aninstant; and he added, evidently under strong constraint: "Pardon; butwe prefer to change the subject."

  "The drift's the same," chuckled the shrewd Buckingham; "we may turn itto advantage." He approached the player in a friendly manner. "Be notangry," he exclaimed soothingly; "for there's a rift even in the cloudsof love. Brighter, man; for King Charles was seeking your wits but now."

  "He'd have me play court-fool for him?" asked the melancholy mime, whohad in his nature somewhat of the cynicism of Jaques, without his grandimaginings of soul. "There are many off the stage, my lord, in betterpractice." "True, most true," acquiesced Buckingham; "I could point themout."

  He would have continued in this vein but beyond the door, whence Harthad just appeared, leading by a stair-way of cupids to the entrance tothe palace, arose the sound of many voices in noisy altercation.

  "Hark ye, hark!" he exclaimed, in an alarmed tone. "What is't? Confusionin the great hallway below. We'll see to't."

  He had assumed a certain supervision of the palace for the night. Withthe player as a body-guard, he accordingly made a hasty exit.