CHAPTER XXIX
THE KING'S PLEASURE
My Lady Kirke was all agog.
Pierre Radisson was her "dear sweet savage," and "naughty spark," and"bold, bad beau," and "devilish fellow," and "lovely wretch!"
"La, Pierre," she cries, with a tap of her fan, "anybody can go to theking's _levee_! But, dear heart!" she trills, with a sidelong ogle."Ta!--ta! naughty devil!--to think of our sweet savage going toWhitehall of an evening! Lud, Mary, I'll wager you, Her Grace ofPortsmouth hath laid eyes on him----"
"The Lord forbid!" ejaculates Pierre Radisson.
"Hoighty-toighty! Now! there you go, my saucy spark! Good lack! Anthe king's women laid eyes on any other man, 'twould turn his head andbe his fortune! Naughty fellow!" she warns, with a flirt of her fan."We shall watch you! Ta-ta, don't tell me no! Oh, we know this _gaitede coeur_! You'll presently be _intime_ o' Portsmouth and Clevelandand all o' them!"
"Madame," groans Pierre Radisson, "swear, if you will! But as you loveme, don't abuse the French tongue!"
At which she gave him a slap with her fan.
"An I were not so young," she simpers, "I'd cuff your ears, you saucyPierre!"
"So young!" mutters Pierre Radisson, with grim looks at her powderedlocks. "Egad's life, so is the bud on a century plant young," and heturns to his wife.
But my Lady Kirke was blush-proof.
"Don't forget to pay special compliments to the favourites," she calls,as we set out for Whitehall; and she must run to the door in a flutterand ask if Pierre Radisson has any love-verse ready writ, in case of an_amour_ with one of the court ladies.
"No," says Radisson, "but here are unpaid tailor bills! 'Tis as goodas your _billets-doux_! I'll kiss 'em just as hard!"
"So!" cries Lady Kirke, bobbing a courtesy and blowing a kiss from herfinger-tips as we rolled away in Sir John's coach.
"The old flirt-o'-tail," blurted Radisson, "you could pack her brainsin a hazel-nut; but 'twould turn the stomach of a grub!"
* * * * * *
'Twas not the Whitehall you know to-day, which is but a remnant of thegrand old pile that stretched all the way from the river front to theinner park. Before the fires, Whitehall was a city of palaces reachingfar into St. James, with a fleet of royal barges at float below theriver stairs. From Scotland Yard to Bridge Street the royal ensignblew to the wind above tower and parapet and battlement. I mind underthe archway that spanned little Whitehall Street M. Radisson dismissedour coachman.
"How shall we bring up the matter of Hortense?" I asked.
"Trust me," said Radisson. "The gods of chance!"
"Will you petition the king direct?"
"Egad--no! Never petition a selfish man direct, or you'll get a No!Bring him round to the generous, so that he may take all credit for ithimself! Do you hold back among the on-lookers till I've told ourstory o' the north! 'Tis not a state occasion! Egad, there'll becourt wenches aplenty ready to take up with a likely looking man! Havea word with Hortense if you can! Let me but get the king's ear--" AndRadisson laughed with a confidence, methought, nothing on earth couldshake.
Then we were passed from the sentinel doing duty at the gate to theking's guards, and from the guards to orderlies, and from orderlies tofellows in royal colours, who led us from an ante-room to that gloriousgallery of art where it pleased the king to take his pleasure thatnight.
It was not a state occasion, as Radisson said; but for a moment I thinkthe glitter in which those jaded voluptuaries burned out theirmoth-lives blinded even the clear vision of Pierre Radisson. The greatgallery was thronged with graceful courtiers and stately dowagers andgaily attired page-boys and fair ladies with a beauty of youth on theirfeatures and the satiety of age in their look. My Lord Preston, Imind, was costumed in purple velvet with trimming of pearls such as agirl might wear. Young Blood moved from group to group to show hiswhite velvets sparkling with diamonds. One of the Sidneys was thereplaying at hazard with my Lady Castlemaine for a monstrous pile of goldon the table, which some onlookers whispered made up three thousandguineas. As I watched my lady lost; but in spite of that, she coiledher bare arm around the gold as if to hold the winnings back.
"And indeed," I heard her say, with a pout, "I've a mind to prove yourlove! I've a mind not to pay!"
At which young Sidney kisses her finger-tips and bids her pay the debtin favours; for the way to the king was through the influence ofCastlemaine or Portsmouth or other of the dissolute crew.
Round other tables sat men and women, old and young, playing awayestate and fortune and honour at tick-tack or ombre or basset. Onenoble lord was so old that he could not see to game, and must needshave his valet by to tell him how the dice came up. On the walls hungthe works of Vandyke and Correggio and Raphael and Rubens; but the purefaces of art's creation looked down on statesmen bending low to thebeck of adventuresses, old men pawning a noble name for the leer of aPortsmouth, and women vying for the glance of a jaded king.
At the far end of the apartment was a page-boy dressed as Cupid,singing love-songs. In the group of listeners lolled the languid king.Portsmouth sat near, fanning the passion of a poor young fool, who hungabout her like a moth; but Charles was not a lover to be spurred. AsPortsmouth played her ruse the more openly a contemptuous smile flittedover the proud, dark face of the king, and he only fondled his lap-dogwith indifferent heed for all those flatterers and foot-lickers andcurry-favours hovering round royalty.
Barillon, the French ambassador, pricked up his ears, I can tell you,when Chaffinch, the king's man, came back with word that His Majestywas ready to hear M. Radisson.
"Now, lad, move about and keep your eyes open and your mouth shut!"whispers M. Radisson as he left me.
Barillon would have followed to the king's group, but His Majestylooked up with a quiet insolence that sent the ambassador to anothercircle. Then a page-boy touched my arm.
"Master Stanhope?" he questioned.
"Yes," said I.
"Come this way," and he led to a tapestried corner, where sat the queenand her ladies.
Mistress Hortense stood behind the royal chair.
Queen Catherine extended her hand for my salute.
"Her Majesty is pleased to ask what has become of the sailor-lad andhis bride," said Hortense.
"Hath the little Puritan helped to get them married right?" asked thequeen, with the soft trill of a foreign tongue.
"Your Majesty," said I, "the little Puritan holds back."
"It is as you thought," said Queen Catherine, looking over her shoulderto Hortense.
"Would another bridesmaid do?" asked the queen.
Laughing looks passed among the ladies.
"If the bridesmaid were Mistress Hillary, Your Majesty," I began.
"Hortense hath been to see them."
I might have guessed. It was like Hortense to seek the lonely pair.
"Here is the king. We must ask his advice," said the queen.
At the king's entrance all fell back and I managed to whisper toHortense what we had learned the night before.
"Here are news," smiled His Majesty. "Your maid of the north isOsmond's daughter! The lands young Lieutenant Blood wants are hers!"
At that were more looks among the ladies.
"And faith, the lieutenant asks for her as well as the lands," said theking.
Hortense had turned very white and moved a little forward.
"We may not disturb our loyal subject's possession. What does Osmond'sdaughter say?" questioned the king.
Then Hortense took her fate in her hands.
"Your Majesty," she said, "if Osmond's daughter did not want the lands,it would not be necessary to disturb the lieutenant."
"And who would find a husband for a portionless bride?" asked KingCharles.
"May it please Your Majesty," began Hortense; but the words trembledunspoken on her lips.
There was a flutter among the ladies. The queen turned and rose. Aha
lf-startled look of comprehension came to her face. And out steppedMistress Hortense from the group behind.
"Your Majesties," she stammered, "I do not want the lands----"
"Nor the lieutenant," laughed the king.
"Your Majesties," she said. She could say no more.
But with the swift intuition of the lonely woman's loveless heart,Queen Catherine read in my face what a poor trader might not speak.She reached her hand to me, and when I would have saluted it like anydutiful subject, she took my hand in hers and placed Hortense's hand inmine.
Then there was a great laughing and hand-shaking and protesting, withthe courtiers thronging round.
"Ha, Radisson," Barillon was saying, "you not only steal our forts--youmust rifle the court and run off with the queen's maid!"
"And there will be two marriages at the sailor's wedding," said thequeen.
It was Hortense's caprice that both marriages be deferred till wereached Boston Town, where she must needs seek out the old Puritandivine whom I had helped to escape so many years ago.
Before I lay down my pen, I would that I could leave with you a pictureof M. Radisson, the indomitable, the victorious, the dauntless, livingin opulence and peace!
But my last memory of him, as our ship sheered away for Boston Town, isof a grave man standing on the quay denouncing princes' promises andgazing into space.
M. Radisson lived to serve the Fur Company for many a year as historytells; but his service was as the flight of a great eagle, harried by amultitude of meaner birds.
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