CHAPTER V
_It was never treason to steal a King's kisses._
A year and more had flown.
It was one of those glorious moon-lit nights in the early fall whenthere is a crispness in the air which lends an edge to life.
St. James's Park was particularly beautiful. The giant oaks with theirhundreds of years of story written in their rings lifted high theirspreading branches, laden with leaves, which shimmered in the light. Thehistoric old park seemed to be made up of patches of day and night. Inthe open, one might read in the mellow glow of the harvest-moon; in theshade of one of its oaks, a thief might safely hide.
Facing on the park, there stood a house of Elizabethan architecture.Along its wrinkled, ivy-mantled wall ran a terrace-like balustrade,where one might walk and enjoy the night without fear.
The house was well defined by the rays of the moon, which seemed todance upon it in a halo of mirth; and from the park, below the terrace,came the soft notes of a violin, tenderly picked.
None other than Strings was sitting astride of a low branch of an oak,looking up at a window, like some guardian spirit from the devil-land,singing in his quaintly unctuous way:
_"Four and twenty fiddlers all in a row, And there was fiddle-fiddle, and twice fiddle-fiddle."_
"How's that for a serenade to Mistress Nell?" he asked himself as hesecured a firm footing on the ground and slung his fiddle over his back."She don't know it's for her, but the old viol and old Strings know." Hecame to a stand-still and winced. "Oons, my old wound again," he said,with a sharp cry, followed as quickly by a laugh. His eyes stillwandered along the balustrade, as eagerly as some young Romeo at thebalcony of his Juliet. "I wish she'd walk her terrace to-night," hesighed, "where we could see her--the lovely lady!"
His rhapsody was suddenly broken in upon by the approach of some onedown the path. He glided into the shadow of an oak and none too quickly.
From the obscurity of the trees, into the open, a chair was swiftlyborne, by the side of which ran a pretty page of tender years, yet wellschooled in courtly wisdom. The lovely occupant leaned forward andmotioned to the chairmen, who obediently rested and assisted her toalight.
"Retire beneath the shadow of the trees," she whispered. "Have a care;no noise."
The chairmen withdrew quietly, but within convenient distance, to awaither bidding.
Strings's heart quite stopped beating. "The Duchess of Portsmouth atMistress Nell's!" he said, almost aloud in his excitement. "Then thedevil must be to pay!" and he slipped well behind the oak-trunk again.
Portsmouth's eyes snapped with French fire as she glanced up at Nell'sterrace. Then she turned to the page by her side. "His Majesty came thispath before?" she asked, with quick, French accent.
"Yes, your grace," replied the page.
"And up this trellis?"
"Yes, your grace."
"Again to-night?"
"I cannot tell, your grace," replied the lad. "I followed as you bademe; but the King's legs were so long, you see, I lost him."
Portsmouth smiled. "Softly, pretty one," she said. "Watch if he comesand warn me; for we may have passed him."
The lad ran gaily down the path to perform her bidding.
"State-business!" she muttered, as she reflected bitterly upon theKing's late excuses to her. "_Mon Dieu_, does he think me a countrywench? I was schooled at Louis's court." Her eyes searched the housefrom various points of advantage. "A light!" she exclaimed, as a candleburned brightly from a window, like a spark of gold set in the silver ofthe night. "Would I had an invisible cloak." She tiptoed about a cornerof the wall--woman-like, to see if she could see, not Nell, but Charles.
Scarcely had she disappeared when a second figure started up in themoonlight, and a gallant figure, too. It was the Duke of Buckingham."Not a mouse stirring," he reflected, glancing at the terrace. "Fairminx, you will not long refuse Buckingham's overtures. Come, Nelly, thyKing is already half stolen away by Portsmouth of France, and Portsmouthof France is our dear ally in the great cause and shall be more so."
To his astonishment, as he drew nearer, he observed a lady, richlydressed, gliding between himself and the terrace. He rubbed his eyes tosee that he was not dreaming. She was there, however, and a prettyarmful, too.
"Nell," he chuckled, as he stole up behind her.
Portsmouth meanwhile had learned that the window was too high to allowher to gain a view within the dwelling. She started--observing, more byintuition than by sight, that she was watched--and drew her veil closelyabout her handsome features.
"Nelly, Nelly," laughed Buckingham, "I have thee, wench. Come, akiss!--a kiss! Nay, love; it was never treason to steal a King'skisses."
He seized her by the arm and was about to kiss her when she turned andthrew back her veil.
"Buckingham!" she said, suavely.
"Portsmouth!" he exclaimed, awestruck.
He gathered himself together, however, in an instant, and added, as ifnothing in the world had happened: "An unexpected pleasure, your grace."
"Yes," said she, with a pretty shrug. "I did not know I was so honoured,my lord."
"Or you would not have refused the little kiss?" he asked, suggestively.
"You called me 'Nelly,' my lord. I do not respond to that name."
"Damme, I was never good at names, Louise," said he, with mock-apology,"especially by moonlight."
"Buz, buz!" she answered, with a knowing gesture and a knowing look.Then, pointing toward the terrace, she added: "A pretty nest! A prettybird within, I warrant. Her name?"
"Ignorance well feigned," he thought. He replied, however, mostgraciously: "Nell Gwyn."
"Oh, ho! The King's favourite, who has more power, they say, than greatstatesmen--like my lord."
Her speech was well defined to draw out his lordship; but he was wary.
"Unless my lord is guided by my lady, as formerly," he replied,diplomatically.
A look of suspicion crept into Portsmouth's face: but it was not visiblefor want of contrast; for all things have a perverted look by the lightof the moon.
She had known Buckingham well at Dover. Their interests there had beenone in securing privileges from England for her French King. Both hadbeen well rewarded too for their pains. There were no proofs, however,of this; and where his lordship stood to-day, and which cause he wouldespouse, she did not know. His eyes at Dover had fallen fondly upon her,but men's eyes fall fondly upon many women, and she would not trust toomuch until she knew more.
"My chairmen have set me down at the wrong door-step," she said, mostsweetly. "My lord longs for his kiss. _Au revoir!_"
She bowed and turned to depart.
Buckingham was alert in an instant. He knew not when the opportunitymight come again to deal so happily with Louis's emissary and the placeand time of meeting had its advantages.
"Prythee stay, Duchess. I left the merry hunters, returning fromHounslow Heath, all in Portsmouth's interest," he said. "Is this to bemy thanks?"
She approached him earnestly. "My lord must explain. I am stupid infitting English facts to English words."
"Have you forgotten Dover?" he asked, intensely, but subdued in voice,"and my pledges sworn to?--the treaty at the Castle?--the Duchess ofOrleans?--the Grand Monarch?"
"Hush!" exclaimed Portsmouth, clutching his arm and looking cautiouslyabout.
"If my services to you there were known," he continued, excitedly, "andto the great cause--the first step in making England pensioner of Franceand Holland the vassal of Louis--my head would pay the penalty. Can younot trust me still?"
"You are on strange ground to-night," suggested Portsmouth, tossing herhead impatiently to indicate the terrace, as she tried to fathom thereal man.
"I thought the King might pass this way, and came to see," hastilyexplained his lordship, observing that she was reflecting upon theincongruity of his friendship for her and of his visit to Madame Gwyn.
"And if he did?" she asked, dubiously, not seeing the con
nection.
"I have a plan to make his visits less frequent, Louise,--for your sweetsake and mine."
The man was becoming master. He had pleased her, and she was beginningto believe.
"Yes?" she said, in a way which might mean anything, but certainly thatshe was listening, and intently listening too.
"You have servants you can trust?" he asked.
"I have," she replied as quickly; and she gloried in the thought thatsome at least were as faithful as Louis's court afforded.
"They must watch Nell's terrace here, night and day," he almostcommanded in his eagerness, "who comes out, who goes in and the hour.She may forget her royal lover; and--well--we shall have witnesses inwaiting. We owe this kindness--to his Majesty."
Portsmouth shrugged her shoulders impatiently. "_Mon Dieu!_" shesaid. "My servants have watched, my lord, already. The despatches wouldhave been signed and Louis's army on the march against the Dutch but forthis vulgar player-girl, whom I have never seen. The King forgets allelse."
The beautiful Duchess was piqued, indeed, that the English King shouldbe so swayed. She felt that it was a personal disgrace--an insult to hercharms and to her culture. She felt that the court knew it and laughed,and she feared that Louis soon would know. Nell Gwyn! How she hatedher--scarce less than she loved Louis and her France.
"Be of good cheer," suggested Buckingham, soothingly; and he halfembraced her. "My messenger shall await your signal, to carry the newsto Louis and his army."
"There is no news," replied she, and turned upon him bitterly. "Charlesevades me. Promise after promise to sup with me broken. I expected himto-night. My spies warned me he would not come; that he is hereaboutsagain. I followed myself to see. I have the papers with me always. If Ican but see the King alone, it will not take long to dethrone thisup-start queen; wine, sweet words--England's sign-manual."
There was a confident smile on her lips as she reflected upon herpersonal powers, which had led Louis XIV. of France to entrust a greatmission to her. His lordship saw his growing advantage. He would makethe most of it.
"In the last event you have the ball!" he suggested, hopefully.
"Aye, and we shall be prepared," she cried. "But Louis is impatient tostrike the blow for Empire unhampered by British sympathy for the Dutch,and the ball is--"
"A fortnight off," interrupted Buckingham, with a smile.
"And my messenger should be gone to-night," she continued, irritably.She approached him and whispered cautiously: "I have to-day receivedanother note from Bouillon. Louis relies upon me to win from Charles hisconsent to the withdrawal of the British troops from Holland. This willinsure the fall of Luxembourg--the key to our success. You see,Buckingham, I must not fail. England's debasement shall be won."
There was a whistle down the path.
"Some one comes!" she exclaimed. "My chair!"
The page, who had given the signal, came running to her. Her chairmentoo were prompt.
"Join me," she whispered to Buckingham, as he assisted her to her seatwithin.
"Later, Louise, later," he replied. "I must back to the neighbouringinn, before the huntsmen miss me."
Portsmouth waved to the chairmen, who moved silently away among thetrees.
Buckingham stood looking after them, laughing.
"King Charles, a French girl from Louis's court will give me the keys toEngland's heart and her best honours," he muttered.
He glanced once again quickly at the windows of the house, and then,with altered purpose, swaggered away down a side path. He was wellpleased with his thoughts, well pleased with his chance interview withthe beautiful Duchess and well pleased with himself. His brain wove andwove moonbeam webs of intrigue as he passed through the light and shadowof the night, wherein he would lend a helping hand to France and securegold and power for his pains. He had no qualms of conscience; for mustnot his estates be kept, his dignity maintained? His purpose was clear.He would bring Portsmouth and the King closer together: and what Englandlost, he would gain--and, therefore, England; for was not he himself apart of England, and a great part?
Then too he must and would have Nell.