The Coming of the King

  CHAPTER XII

  THE COMING OF THE KING

  "Servant, sir." The man saluted me as he spoke, and moved a step nearer.

  "Thank you for a good breakfast," I said. "I have been out all night,and lost my way among the woods."

  "Easy enough to do," he replied, nodding towards the great forest fromwhich I had come.

  "To whom do they belong?"

  He shook his head. "Pycroft woods," he added presently.

  "And no one lives at Pycroft Hall, I suppose?"

  "No one but the devil."

  "I saw great heaps of stones in the woods."

  "Ay, it is said there was a great mine at one time."

  Beyond this the man could tell me nothing, though I asked him manyquestions. I also made inquiries in a roundabout way concerning PycroftHall, but he only shook his head. Evidently he knew nothing of it. Ialso asked him concerning the day of the week, and I found that I musthave been full thirty hours alone in the bowels of the earth. Iconcluded that old Solomon had not come to seek me, neither did hebelieve that I should be able to find my way out.

  After a time I felt sleepy, and the woman having offered me a bedwhereon to rest, I fell into a sleep, from which I did not awake untilpast noon. After the dame had given me a meal consisting of boiled baconand potatoes, I felt strong enough to walk back to Folkestone, which,after giving the woman another coin, I did.

  I found that my absence had caused no surprise at the _Barley Sheaf_;indeed, the news that the king was to land at Dover the next day but oneseemed to drive all other thoughts from their minds. I made manyinquiries, but could hear nothing of either Sir Charles Denman or hiswife. The woman had come mysteriously into my life, and had passed outof it again just as mysteriously. And yet I thought much of her. I feltin a way which I cannot explain that my life was linked with hers, andthat some time in the future I should see her again.

  The following morning I had my horse saddled and started for Dover. Ihad much company on the way, for, as it seemed to me, the wholecountryside had emptied itself in order to be at Dover to welcome thenew king. When I arrived at Dover town, moreover, I found a greatuproar; in truth, no fair I had ever seen provided such food for sportand carnival as Dover town provided that day. In the inns and tavernsthere was much drinking, while, in the streets, booths and shows wereeverywhere in evidence. On every hand the people were shouting andsinging. Every street was festooned with flowers and flags, while itappeared that every one was glad that the reign of Puritanism was over,and that they would have a king instead of a parliament to reign overthem. I noticed, too, that in the booths there were plays representingthe downfall of the Puritans, while the great butt of most of the jokeswere those who dressed in the dark sober fashion of the times of OliverCromwell, and quoted psalms with a pious sniffle.

  "God save His Most Gracious Majesty King Charles the Second!" manycried.

  "Ay, ay," was the response. "We shall have a merry life under the king.Plenty to drink, plenty to eat, and plenty of fun."

  "Down with the psalm-singing hypocrites!"

  "As though cock-fighting, dog-fighting, and bull-baiting hath not alwaysbeen an Englishman's sport."

  "The King loves it, I hear."

  "Ay, and he loves to kiss a pretty girl, too."

  "Well, what's the harm in that?"

  "None at all. He's young and comely, and loves his pleasure as a kingshould."

  "It'll go hard with the sour-faced psalm-singers, I hear."

  "Well it ought. Did they not kill the king's father? I hear that atleast five hundred are to be hanged."

  "But what about the Act of Oblivion?"

  "Marry! as though the king will care aught about the Act of Oblivion.The thing is, the country will be able to enjoy itself."

  "Well it ought. After a man hath been to church once a week he's doneenough religion. After that let him enjoy himself."

  All this and much more I heard as I passed along the streets; in truth,much of what I saw and heard is not fit to record here, for many of thepeople might have just been let out of Bedlam, so little did they seemto care for what was clean and decent. Moreover, no notice was taken ofthese things. There was neither law nor order, while, if some man shouldsay a word rebuking them for wrong-doing, he was immediately pouncedupon as a sour-faced Puritan. Such was the difference which was alreadymanifest, even before the new king had set his feet on English soil.

  It was now the twenty-fourth day in May, and many reported that they hadseen a number of vessels bearing the king's retinue far away at sea, butthat he would not arrive until the following morning, as he desired toenter the town, not when the people were tired and dusty, but as theyappeared after a night of rest and sleep, and when their finery was notbedavered by a day's jostling.

  I remembered that my father had told me he intended being in Dover onthe twenty-sixth of the month, but I imagined that he would makediligent inquiries concerning the coming of the king, and would surelybe in Dover before it was too late for him to offer his welcome.

  I therefore made my way to the _Fox and Hounds_, which I found to bevery full of people, and for a long time I was unable to gain any answerto my inquiries, but I discovered presently that not only had MasterPhilip Rashcliffe been to the inn, but he had also left word for me, incase I should call, to wait for him in a private room which he hadhired.

  I followed the servant to this room, and, being left alone, was about toreview the events which had taken place since I had left my home a fewdays before. Apparently I had accomplished nought, but really I hadaccomplished much, especially if there was truth in what old FatherSolomon had told me. Although I have said nothing concerning it here, Ihad thought much before returning to Folkestone without again seekingout the old man and accusing him of treachery. I reflected that it wouldbe best for him to think of me as dead, for if I went to him he wouldtake other steps for hiding the precious document, and then all throughwhich I had gone would be in vain. Only one thing tempted me to go backto Pycroft Hall and again descend into those dark regions underground,and that was the dread that he had treated the woman called Constance ashe had treated me. But, although the thought fretted me sorely, the moreI reflected, the stronger was my conviction that she had left the houseby some other means.

  It was late in the evening before my father returned, and then hegreeted me as though we had been separated for years, instead of a fewdays.

  "How fares it with you, Roland, my son? You look pale, and there is abruise on your forehead."

  "My hat covers the bruise, father," I replied gaily. "As to my paleface, it will be quickly ruddy again."

  "But tell me, hast thou done aught?" he said anxiously.

  "As to that, I have much to relate, father, but whether it will end inaught of advantage you shall speedily judge."

  I therefore set to work and, as clearly as I could, told him of muchthrough which I had passed since the day I left him. For a long time hespoke no word, either good or bad, concerning what he had heard, andeven when he broke the silence it was only to ask me many keen searchingquestions, the which I found difficult to answer, for I had not thoughtof many of the meanings which he attached to what had happened to me.Nevertheless, he seemed well pleased with me, and admitted that I hadacted with much wisdom and caution. Concerning the black box, which layhidden in the cavern beneath the grounds of Pycroft, he pondered long,so much so that I thought he forgot the dismal condition I had been inwhen old Solomon had left me there alone.

  "Thou hast done well, Roland," he said, "so well that I have no adviceto give thee save this. When thou dost appear before the king, do notparade thy knowledge over-soon."

  "I appear before the king!" I cried.

  "Ay. That must be."

  "But how?"

  "I may be able to help thee in this; but if I cannot, thou hast a cleverhead and must make thine own way. And another thing: if ever thou dostsee Dame Walters again, see to it that thou dost tell her nothing."

  I looked at him ques
tioningly.

  "Never trust a woman more than you must," he said quietly. "The bestschemes in the world have been frustrated by women. The truth is, sheknows not how to hold her tongue."

  "But it seems to me that you have gained knowledge of this through awoman--through Katharine Harcomb," I suggested.

  "Ay," he replied slowly and thoughtfully; "but women must be managed.When dealt with by wise men they can become useful, even as KatharineHarcomb became useful. Perhaps in the future you will be brought intocontact with women; well, never be impatient with them, and always keepthe mastery over them."

  "But how came Katharine Harcomb to come to you with her news?" I asked."How came I to be commissioned with this work?"

  "You will know some day," he replied; "it is nought of great importance,but you shall know. The great matter for us to consider now is how youare to gain the ear of the new king."

  "What have you in your mind?" I asked.

  "That I will not tell you," he replied. "A man is made, not by havingthings done for him, but by doing things himself. For myself I care butlittle for the future, but you are young, and life is before you. Well,I shall leave your future mostly in your own hands. You have shown methat you have courage and brains. With knowledge such as yours, youought to do much. Even if the king is unmoved by that knowledge, theking's brother would give much to possess the thing of which you havetold me. But you must be wary; and you must be careful not to try andpluck your apple before it is ripe."

  I looked into his face, and tried to understand the thought behind allthis; but I could discover nothing. His face was like a mask which hidthe thoughts which I felt were passing through his mind.

  "There will be gay doings to morrow," I suggested. "Ay, gay doings--gaydoings. The old order of things hath come to an end in a day. YesterdayEngland was still Puritan; to-morrow it will be--God only knows what.To-day the same people who, a little while ago, were shouting 'A freeParliament!' are crying 'God save the king!' Bah! but we must be wise,Roland, and you must win both fame and riches, or I shall be sorelydisappointed."

  "What do you mean, father?"

  "I mean that no man can be trusted, and every man must look out forhimself. In a week from now England will be changed. The theatres whichhave been closed, will be opened, and there will be a new order of theday. Cromwell wanted to make England the land of God. With him religionwas everything. He wanted to make England pious by law. Thus his cry wasever, 'We must have men of God in all our public offices.' With Charlesall will be different--ay, I know him, and all will be different. Thedevil will be let loose to-morrow--that is plain enough. The poets willwrite poetry of a new order, pure waters will be made puddle, and piouslanguage will be made putrid. It's plain to be seen. Why, it hath begunto appear in Dover even to-day. Evil is already naked and is notashamed, and filthiness crieth aloud. Well, Roland, methinks you haveyour hand upon power. You must use it, but you must use it as one whohath gentle blood in his veins."

  "I do not like all this," I said at length.

  "Do not like what?" asked my father almost roughly.

  "I do not like the motive which is to prompt my deeds," I made answer."If it were only that justice may be done, then there is reason; but touse my knowledge to squeeze favours out of the king is not acting thepart of one who bears the name of Rashcliffe."

  My father started as though he had been stung.

  "Ay, and what would you, Roland?" he cried. "Kings rule through fear,and I would only obtain justice by the same means. I have beenrobbed--thou hast been robbed. I know these Stuarts, and I shall neverget back mine own save by making the king or his brother feel that hewill do well to listen to my behests."

  "Do you believe that what I saw is the real contract of marriage betweenthe king and Lucy Walters?"

  "Ay, I believe it."

  "Then that lad, James Croft, is next King of England?"

  "He should be."

  "Then let us understand," I said. "Suppose by this means we obtain fromthe king all we desire? Suppose he gives you back our lands, and a placein the nation's life, are we to keep quiet concerning this thing?"

  My father was silent for some time, and then he said, "Roland, thou artbut a boy yet. There is much to be done. But thou must see the king, andthou must go to the king's Court. Meanwhile thou hast thine hand on thesecret of power, and every wise man uses his power wisely."

  And that was all he would say to me that night, which, as may beimagined, puzzled me much. Nevertheless, I slept well that night, andwas only awakened by the jangling of bells and the shouts of a mightymultitude.

  My father had already risen and gone out, and so, no food being yetobtainable, I also left the house and went towards the sea. I found agreat concourse of people on the sea shore, who were watching with greateagerness the ships which lay quite near to land. Never did I witnesssuch rejoicing before. One might have imagined that the man who was inthe royal vessel outside had done some wondrous deeds for the nation,and that we wanted to welcome him back, even as the Romans of olden timewelcomed back their great conquerors, who were followed by the trophiesof their warfare.

  Many thought the king would land early in the morning, but it was notuntil noon that the boat which was to bring him ashore touched the sand,and then it seemed as though the shouts of the multitudes would rend thevery heavens.

  As fortune would have it, both my father and I obtained a place close towhere General Monk stood, and so we were able to view the king'slanding. I took but little note of the others who accompanied KingCharles, for I was eager to see the man who was to be the new ruler ofthe nation, and as I looked I saw that he looked older than his realage, which was just thirty years. His face was deeply marked, and thatin spite of the fact that he was of full habit. I noticed too that hewas very dark, and that a very black moustache grew on his upper lip.His eyes were small, and what some men might call sleepy-looking, butevery now and then they flashed, just as I have seen a serpent's eyesflash when aroused from its sleep. He watched the shouting multitude,not with the glad look that one might have expected, but with a kind ofmocking smile. Indeed, he seemed far more interested in a very small dogthat he carried than in the greeting of his subjects.

  When he put his foot on the shore, however, and a great shout went upfrom the multitude, he bowed and smiled pleasantly, and it was then Isaw wherein his fascination lay, and so much moved was I that I shoutedwith the rest, at the which I saw my father, who was close by my side,regard me with an amused smile.

  After the great shout of welcome, a signal was given for silence, andthen General Monk came forward, and welcomed him with all possible marksof reverence and love. But even although silence was commanded, theenthusiasm of the people was so great that I could not hear all GeneralMonk's words. But I could not help noting, even although this great manhad welcomed the king with such evidences of loyalty, that he seemed tobe only playing a part. He seemed to despise the plaudits of themultitude, even as the king did as he gazed over the sea of upturnedfaces.

  "Here, your Majesty, you see the love of a devoted and loyal people."

  This was the conclusion of General Monk's speech, the former part ofwhich was, as I have said, drowned in the sea of voices.

  Again the king smiled, a smile that was half cynical and bitter, evenalthough he seemed pleased at his reception.

  "I thank my people, General," he said, "and in truth I blame myself fornot coming back before, so glad doth every one appear at my coming."

  But no man seemed to note the meaning which lay at the back of hiswords, nor to think of the time when this same king was hunted like afox throughout England, for they started to shouting again like menpossessed. And this was seen not only among the common people, but amongnoblemen and gentlemen of all sorts.

  After this the mayor of the town came forward, and offering him hiswelcome, also gave him his white staff of office, which the kingreturned with a pleasant smile.

  "You govern the town so well, Master Mayor, that I will not rob
thepeople of such good service," he said with a smile, whereupon the peopleshouted again, although they did not seem to know why they wereshouting.

  Then the mayor, who looked very elated and joyous, presented the kingwith a very gaily and beautifully bound Bible, saying as he did so--

  "In the name of your loyal citizens, I do humbly offer your Majesty acopy of the sacred Scriptures, which we possess through the learning,the piety, and the gracious goodness of your most learned and sacredgrandfather, King James the First of England."

  At this the king smiled again, and receiving the Bible, which heafterwards gave to one of his retainers, he said, "I accept this giftwith great thanks, Master Mayor; among all things which I love in theworld, I love the Bible best."

  He wellnigh laughed as he said this, but the people, if possible, becamemore excited than ever.

  "He loves the Bible!" they cried. "He is a pious king! God save HisMajesty!"

  After this he walked with General Monk towards a canopy, under which hestood talking with his nobles. It was at this time that I realized howkeen and penetrating was the king's gaze. For although his eyes seemedto be habitually half closed, he did at times open them wide and lookkeenly around him. Moreover, he seemed to understand everything at aglance. I noticed also that when the king spoke it was to the point, andthat his remarks were weighty with sense.

  "I will not stay at Dover," he said to General Monk. "The people haveseen me, and that is enough. From what I can gather they love a kingmore than a protector; nevertheless, it is well that I go straight toCanterbury Cathedral, where, in the interests of religion, I willpublicly give thanks to God for my safe return to my people."

  "A wise step, your Majesty," said a young man who had stood near theking the whole time.

  "Ah, Master Tom Killigrew, I expect you to write a great ode to ourlanding this day."

  "I would that my poor wit were equal to the subject, your Majesty."

  "Well, we shall see. Thou hast been faithful in mine adversity, and nowwe return to gladder times."

  "There have been many faithful during your Majesty's adversity. Throughall the dark years there have been many who have not bowed the knee toBaal."

  It was my father who spoke. Through influences that I knew not of, hehad obtained a place for us near General Monk, at the landing, and nowthrough the same means we had followed the king to the canopy.

  "Who is this?" asked the king sharply.

  "It is Master Philip Rashcliffe," said a voice. "He was one who foughtfor your gracious sire in the first civil war, and was grievouslywounded."

  He gave only a passing glance to my father, but fixed his eyes on me,who stood by his side.

  "And who is this brave youth? Nay, nay, do not speak for him; speak foryourself, young man."

  "My name is Roland Rashcliffe, your Majesty," I made answer.

  "The son of Master Philip here?"

  "Yes, your Majesty."

  "A youth of spirit, I should judge," he said, "ay, and well grown too.He pleaseth me well."

  Now at this my heart was all elate, for let who will say otherwise, itis no light thing for a youth to be noticed by his king.

  "And thou hast come to bid me welcome, Master Roland?"

  "Yes, sire," I replied, scarce daring to look him in the face.

  "Well, rise; thou hast knelt long enough. And what favour dost thouask?"

  I lifted my eyes as he spoke, and saw a quizzical look upon his face.Nay, it was more than quizzical. He seemed, as I thought, suspicious ofmy motives in coming, although I knew not why.

  I had it on my tongue to tell him how my father had been impoverished bythe Puritans, but I only said--

  "Nothing, your Majesty."

  "Nothing? Then is thy request easily granted. Fancy, General Monk: Ihave put it in the way of this youth to ask me a favour, and yet he hathdemanded nothing. Will this be an augury of my reign?"

  "I trust so, your Majesty," replied Monk, and I thought I saw greed inhis eyes. "And yet many, although they ask not favour at your hands,will seek justice," continued Monk boldly.

  "Ah, how is that? Ay, I remember now. It hath been told me that yourlife hath been in danger. That a fanatical Puritan woman, a daughter ofJohn Leslie, Constance by name, and wife of Sir Charles Denman, ofpainful memory, sought your life when you took steps to ensure my comingback to mine own. We must inquire into into this. She must be takenprisoner and put to death."

  "She hath already been taken prisoner."

  "Ah, that is well. Well, we will see to it that both she and those whoaided and abetted her shall have justice. Where is she imprisoned?"

  "At present in Bedford, sire."

  "Ah, that is well. But I will not think of these things now. I must awayto Canterbury."

  He took no further notice of me; nay, for that matter he regarded noneof those who gazed eagerly into his face. Instead, still carrying thesmall dog, which he seemed to prize greatly, he left the canopy, andmade his way to a stately coach, which set out, amidst the continuedacclamations of the people, towards Canterbury.

  As for myself, I took but little note of the king's departure, while thefeeling of joy which had come into my heart at his kind words passedaway. Why, I knew not, but the news that the woman called Constance, thewife of Sir Charles Denman, had been put in prison and was doomed todeath, drove all other thoughts from my mind, and there and then I didmake up my mind that I would save her from such a terrible end.