CHAPTER VI
Softly on tiptoe; Here Nell doth lie.
As often happens in life, when one suitor departs, another suitorknocks; and so it happened on this glorious night. The belated suitorwas none other than Charles, the Stuart King. He seemed in the moonlightthe picture of royalty, of romance, of dignity, of carelessness, ofindifference--the royal vagabond of wit, of humour and of love. Awell-thumbed "Hudibras" bulged from his pocket. He was alone, save forsome pretty spaniels that played about him. He heeded them not. Histhoughts were of Nell.
"Methought I heard voices tuned to love," he mused, as he glanced about."What knave has spied out the secret of her bower? Ho, Rosamond, myRosamond! Why came I here again to-night? What is there in this girl,this Nell? And yet her eyes, how like the pretty maid's who passed methe cup that day at the cottage where we rested. Have I lived really tolove--I, Solomon's rival in the entertainment of the fair,--to have myheart-strings torn by this roguish player?"
His reflections were broken in upon by the hunters' song in thedistance. The music was so in harmony with the night that the forestseemed enchanted.
"Hush; music!" he exclaimed, softly, as he lent himself reluctantly tothe spell, which pervaded everything as in a fairyland. "Odds, moonlightwas once for me as well the light for revels, bacchanals and frolics;yet now I linger another evening by Nell's terrace, mooning like a lovero'er the memory of her eyes and entranced by the hunters' song."
THE KING PROFESSES HIS LOVE FOR NELL.]The singers were approaching. The King stepped quickly beneath thetrellis, in an angle of the wall, and waited. Their song grew richer, asmelodious as the night, but it struck a discord in his soul. He wasthinking of a pair of eyes.
"Cease those discordant jangles," he exclaimed impatiently to himself;"cease, I say! No song except for Nell! Nell! Pour forth your sweetestmelody for Nell!"
The hunters stopped as by intuition before the terrace. A goodly companythey were, indeed; there were James and Rochester and others of thecourt returning from the day's hunt. There was Buckingham too, who hadrejoined them as they left the inn. The music died away.
"Whose voice was that?" asked James, as he caught the sound of theKing's impatient exclamation from the corner of the wall.
"Some dreamer of the night," laughed Buckingham. "Yon love-sick fellow,methinks," he continued, pointing to a figure, well aloof beneath thetrees, who was watching the scene most jealously. It was none other thanHart, who rarely failed to have an eye on Nell's terrace and whoinstantly stole away in the darkness.
"This is the home of Eleanor Gwyn we are passing," said Rochester,superfluously; for all knew full well that it was Nelly's terrace.
"The love-lorn seer is wise," cried the Duke of York, quite forgettinghis frigid self as he bethought him of Nell, and becoming quitelover-like, as he, sighing, said: "It were well to make peace withNelly. Sing, hunters, sing!"
The command was quickly obeyed and the voices well attuned; for nonewere there but worshipped Nelly.
Hail to the moonbeams' Crystal spray, Nestling in Heaven All the day, Falling by night-time, Silvery showers, Twining with love-rhyme Nell's fair bowers.
Sing, hunters, sing, Gently carolling, Here lies our hart-- Sleeping, sleeping, sleeping.
Hail to the King's oaks, Sentries blest, Spreading their branches, Guarding her rest, Telling the breezes, Hastening by: "Softly on tiptoe; Here Nell doth lie."
Sing, hunters, sing, Gently carolling, Here lies our hart-- Sleeping, sleeping, sleeping.
The King heard the serenade to the end, then stepped gaily from hishiding-place.
"Brother James under Nelly's window!" he said, with a merry laugh.
"The King!" exclaimed James, in startled accents, as he realized thepresence of his Majesty and the awkward position in which he and hisfollowers were placed.
"The King!" repeated the courtiers. Hats were off and knees were bentrespectfully.
"Brother," saluted Charles, as he embraced the Duke of Yorkgood-naturedly.
Buckingham withdrew a few steps. He was the most disturbed at thepresence of the King at Nelly's bower. "As I feared," he thought. "Deviltake his Majesty's meandering heart."
"Odsfish," laughed Charles, "we must guard our Nelly, or James and hissaintly followers will rob her bower by moonlight."
The Duke of York assumed a devout and dignified mien. "Sire," heattempted to explain, but was interrupted quickly by his Majesty.
"No apologies, pious brother. God never damned a man for a littleirregular pleasure."
There was a tittering among the courtiers as the King's words fell upontheir ears.
James continued to apologize. "In faith, we were simply passing--" hesaid.
Again he was interrupted by his Majesty, who was in the best of humourand much pleased at the discomfiture of his over-religious brother.
"Lorenzo too was simply passing," he observed, "but the fair Jessica andsome odd ducats stuck to his girdle; and the Jew will still be tearinghis hair long after we are dust. Ah, Buckingham, they tell me you toohave a taste for roguish Nelly. Have a care!"
The King strode across to Buckingham as he spoke; and while there washumour in his tone, there was injunction also.
Buckingham was too great a courtier not to see and feel it. He bowedrespectfully, replying to his Majesty, "Sire, I would not presume tofollow the King's eyes, however much I admire their taste."
"'T'is well," replied his Majesty, pointedly, "lest they lead theeabroad on a sleeveless mission."
Others had travelled upon such missions; Buckingham knew it well.
"But what does your Majesty here to-night, if we dare ask?" questionedJames, who had just bethought him how to turn the tables upon the King.
Charles looked at his brother quizzically. "Humph!" he exclaimed, in hispeculiar way. "Feeding my ducks in yonder pond." His staff sweptindefinitely toward the park.
"Hunting with us were nobler business, Sire," suggested James,decisively.
"Not so," replied the King, quite seriously. "My way--I learn tolegislate for ducks."
"'T'were wiser," preached York, "to study your subjects' needs."
The King's eyes twinkled. "I go among them," he said, "and learn theirneeds, while you are praying, brother."
At this sally, Rochester became convulsed, though he hid it well; forRochester was not as pious as brother James.
York, feeling that the sympathy was against him, grew more earneststill. "I wish your Majesty would have more care," he pleaded. "'Tis acrime against yourself, a crime against the state, a crime against thecavaliers who fought and died for you, to walk these paths alone in suchuncertain times. Perchance, 'tis courting lurking murder!"
"No kind of danger, James," answered the King, with equal seriousness,laying a hand kindly on his brother's shoulder; "for I am sure no man inEngland would take away my life to make you King."
There was general laughter from the assembled party; for all daredlaugh, even at the expense of the Duke of York, when the jest was of theKing's making. Indeed, not to laugh at a king's jest has been in everyage, in or out of statutes, the greatest crime. Fortunately, KingCharles's wit warranted its observation.
James himself grew mellow under the influence of the gaiety, and almostaffectionately replied, "God grant it be ever so, brother." He thenturned the thought. "We heard but now an ambassador from Morocco's courtis lately landed. He brings your Majesty two lions and thirtyostriches."
"Odsfish, but he is kind," replied the King, reflecting on the gift. "Iknow of nothing more proper to send by way of return than a flock ofgeese."
His brow arched quizzically, as he glanced over the circle of inertcourtiers ranged about him. "Methinks I can count them out atWhitehall," he thought.
"He seeks an audience to-night. Will you grant it, Sire?" besoughtJames.
"'Sheart!" replied the King. "Most cheerfully, I'll l
ead you fromNelly's terrace, brother. Hey! Tune up your throats. On to the palace."