CHAPTER IV
THE MESSENGER FROM ENGLAND
Madame de Marsac, one time Miss Basilea Gage and maid of honour to theQueen of England, sat in the window-place of an inn in The Hague andlooked down into the street. There was an expression of indifference onher face and of listlessness in her attitude, though a man in blackvelvet was standing near to her and speaking with an appearance of greatenergy, and he was M. D'Avaux, minister of King Louis XIV to the StatesGeneral.
Basilea was Romanist, of a family who had held that faith since the daysof Queen Mary Tudor; her husband, two years dead, an officer in theFrench Army, had left her with a small fortune and no regrets, since shewas yet undecided as to whether she had liked him or no; though tooclever to be unhappy she was miserably idle, and had drifted from Parisback to London, and from London to Amsterdam, where her late lord'speople were prominent among the powerful French faction, and stillwithout finding any interest in life.
It was M. D'Avaux, with whom she had some former acquaintance, who hadurgently requested her to come to The Hague, and she was here, listeningto him, but without enthusiasm, being more engaged in watching the greatnumber of well-dressed people who passed up and down the wide, cleanstreet.
M. D'Avaux perhaps noticed her inattention, for he broke his discoursewith an abrupt question.
"Would you care to see a revolution in your country--'49 over again withthe Prince of Orange in place of Cromwell?"
She turned quickly, obviously startled. Though so indifferent to actualhappenings, she was tenacious of tradition, and she felt a vast, thoughpassive, admiration for the action of King James in re-establishing inhis kingdoms the ancient faith that was hers.
"Why--you mean----" she began, and paused, searching his face withpuzzled dark eyes.
"I mean, Madame," said M. D'Avaux strongly, "that your King is cuttingaway the supports that prop his throne--you must know something of thefeeling in England."
"Yes," she assented; "the trouble with the colleges, the declaration ofIndulgence, and some rare malicious talk of the Prince of Wales--butnothing like--a revolution!"
The Frenchman smiled.
"Let me tell you some facts. When Henry Sidney was Envoy here he was inreality the channel of communication between the Opposition in Englandand His Highness--even since his recall he hath served the sameturn--and these last months Edward Russell hath been coming and goingwith messages between the Prince and those great Protestants whom theKing hath put out of office."
"If this is known," cried Basilea, "surely it can be prevented--it istreason!"
"What is treason in England, Madame, is loyalty at The Hague--and do youimagine that I have any influence with the States, who are entirelyunder the rule of the Prince?"
"I have noticed," answered Basilea, "a monstrous number of English andFrench Protestants at The Hague, but thought they came here for a mererefuge."
"They come here," said M. D'Avaux drily, "for revenge--since the Edictof Nantes was revoked all the Huguenots look to the Prince, and since herefused his assent to the declaration of Indulgence every Englishman whois not a Romanist looketh to him also."
Basilea rose; the sunshine was over her curls and blue dress, and shooka red light from the garnets at her wrist; her eyes narrowed; she wasinterested by this clear talk of important events.
"What could the Prince do?" she asked quietly.
M. D'Avaux replied with some passion.
"This is the tenth year of the uneasy peace forced on His Highness byHis Majesty and the late King Charles, and not a month of that time thathe hath not been working to be avenged on us for the terms we obtainedthen--he hath combined powers in secret leagues against us, he hathvexed and defied us at every turn, and he hath never, for one moment,ceased to intrigue for the help of England against us--in some finalissue."
"But England," said Basilea quickly, "is entirely bound to France----"
"Yes; and because of that, and because the Prince of Orange knoweth it,King James is in a desperate strait----"
"Why?"
"Madame, I know the Prince tolerably well--he never relinquishes anyidea that hath a firm hold on his mind, and what he cannot accomplish bydiplomacy he will assay by force."
"By force!" echoed Basilea, staring at the Ambassador.
He came a little nearer to her and lowered his voice.
"What is the business that keepeth Edward Russell on messenger duty toand fro The Hague and London? What is the business that keepeth thePrince for ever riding from his villa to the States? Why are all theharness makers of the Provinces making bridles, bits, and spurs? Why isthe Prince, if there is not some great design afoot, buying up loadafter load of hay--why are new ships being built, fresh troops beingraised?"
"Surely," answered Basilea, "I have heard it said that the States weremaking ready in case the dispute between King Louis and the Pope anentCologne should involve attack on their frontiers."
"I do not believe it," said M. D'Avaux. "But King James and LordSunderland take your view--they will not be roused, they will not see,and daily they further rouse that loyalty which is their sole support.I am well informed from England that not one man in ten believeth thePrince of Wales to be the King's son, and that they regard the producingof him as a mere fraud to cheat the Princesses of their birthright."
"What do you mean, what do you think?" asked Basilea. "It is notpossible that the Prince should claim his wife's inheritance by force ofarms?"
"You put it very succinctly," said M. D'Avaux. "That is exactly what Ithink he will do."
Basilea was silent. The, to her, amazing aspect of internationalpolitics disclosed in M. D'Avaux's brief and troubled summary filled herwith dismay and anger. The domestic government of England did notconcern her, since she did not live under it, and her family, beingRomanist, were more prosperous under King James than they had ever been.She had not given much thought to the justice or wisdom of the means theKing had taken to convert his kingdom, but she approved of theprinciple. She had no admiration for the Prince of Orange, and nosympathy for the cause he upheld.
"He would never," she remarked, continuing her thoughts aloud, "dare thescandal of an open rupture betwixt himself and His Majesty, who is bothhis uncle and his wife's father----"
"There is nothing but dislike between them since the King recalledSidney and the Prince refused his assent to the repeal of the TestAct----"
"But the Princess," interrupted Basilea. "Why, I used to know her, andI dare assure you she is not one to forget her duty----"
"Her duty!" repeated M. D'Avaux.
He looked at her intently.
"You have touched the reason why I asked you to come to The Hague," hesaid. "I want you to wait on the Princess and obtain from her someassurance that she would never countenance any menace to her father----"
"I am sure she would not," answered Basilea at once.
"I do hope it, for if she will not support her husband his design is asgood as hopeless, since it is her claim, not his own, he must putforward."
Basilea smiled.
"She is a Stewart, must be a little ambitious, if nothing else, and herswas not a love-match that she should sacrifice everything to herhusband."
She glanced quickly at M. D'Avaux, and added--
"But you still look doubtful----"
"Madame," he replied earnestly, "the Princess is a very ardentProtestant----"
"She was not at Whitehall."
"--She hath," he continued, "lived ten years with the Prince----"
"They say in England that he doth not treat her kindly----"
"His Majesty hath done his best to put discord between them--when HerHighness discovered that her Chaplain and one of her women, AnneTrelawney, were working on His Majesty's orders to make mischief betwixtthe Prince and herself, she dismissed them. I thought that looked illfor us."
Basilea shook her head, still smiling.
"An English princess
will not be so soon subdued--I'll undertake to getassurances from Her Highness that she is ignorant of these tales of thedesigns of the Prince, and that she would never support them if she knewof them."
Basilea spoke with some animation; she felt sure of what she said, andwas not ill pleased to be of service to her own and her adopted countryin this, as she thought it, pleasant fashion.
She remembered Mary Stewart as a lively, laughing girl, who had detestedand opposed her marriage with much spirit, and she had no fear that shewould find that wilful gay Princess difficult to manage.
M. D'Avaux was not so confident.
"You do not know the Prince," he remarked, and Basilea laughed.
"He is not so redoubtable where women are concerned, I think," sheanswered; "at least allow me to try."
"I ask it of you," he said gravely; "for more hangs on this than I darethink."
"Sure, you need not fear the Prince," she returned, "if he had the mostwicked will in the world--the difficulties in his way areunsurmountable."
"France," he replied, "must make them so."
On that he took his leave, and left Basilea with more busy thoughts thanhad been hers for some while since.
She returned to the window-seat, propped her chin on her palm, andlooked down the street. She was a pretty seeming woman, slender, duskybrown in the hair and eyes, of a just height and proportion, and herperson was shown to advantage by the plain French style of her gown andringlets, which had a graceful simplicity wholly wanting in the stifffashions prevailing in England and the Low Countries.
Her window looked upon an end of the Buitenhof, one of the two greatsquares that formed the centre of The Hague so admired by strangers; itwas planted with lime trees, now past their flowering time, but stillfragrant and softly green in the gentle air of July.
A great number of people of both sexes, finely dressed, were passing upand down, on foot, on horseback, and in little open chariots and sedans.Basilea noticed many unmistakeably English, Scotch, and French ofvarying degrees of qualities--soldiers, divines, gentlemen, and womenmingling with the crowd, hastening past with intent faces or loungingwith idle glances at each other in hopes to detect a friend or patron.
She opened the window and leaned out so that she could see the Buitenhofwith the straight lines and arches of the government buildings of theStates, the trees that shaded the great fish-pond called the Vyver, andthe open square where the carriages passed on their way to thefashionable promenade of the Voorhout and Toorviveld.
Among all the varying figures that caught her glance was that of a tallman in the garb of an English seaman--red breeches, a tarred coat, acocked hat with his captain's colours, and a heavy sword.
She noticed him first because he stopped to ask directions of twopassers-by, English also, and because he was, even among so many, of afine and showy appearance.
He turned at first towards the arches that led through to the Binnenhofand the Hall of the Knights, then hesitated, turned back, and retracedhis steps until he was just under Basilea's window.
Here he paused again, and accosted a stout gentleman in the dress of anAnglican priest, who was dashing through the press with a great air ofimportance and hurry.
On seeing the tarpaulin he greeted him with noisy surprise and pleasure,and drew him a little out of the crowd, and proceeded to converseeagerly with the unction of the inveterate talker.
Basilea laughed to herself as she observed the seaman's efforts toescape, and to obtain some answer to a question first.
At last he seemed to accomplish both, for he wrenched himself from thepowerful presence of the priest, and hastened towards the Stadhuis,while the other called after him in a voice meant to be subdued, butstill so resonant that Basilea could hear every word: "The Prince willbe back to-morrow evening!"
The seaman waved his hat, nodded, and hastened on.
Basilea wondered why a common sailor should be concerned as to when HisHighness returned to The Hague, and concluded, rather angrily, that herewas evidence of one of the manifold intrigues which the Whigs, M.D'Avaux had assured her, carried on almost openly in Holland.