His Majesty's Well-Beloved

He now had the Duchess of York on his arm, and His Grace of Buckingham had not left his side. His Friends were unanimously chaffing him about that Epilogue which he had spoken last night, and which had so delighted the Countess of Castlemaine. My Lord Buckhurst and Sir William Davenant were quoting pieces out of it, whilst I could only feel sorry that so great a Man had lent himself to such unworthy Flattery.

"'Divinity, radiant as the stars!'" Lord Buckhurst quoted with a laugh. "By gad, you Rogue, you did not spare your words."

Mr. Betterton frowned almost imperceptibly, and I, his devoted Admirer, guessed that he was not a little ashamed of the fulsome Adulation which he had bestowed on so unworthy an Object, and I was left to marvel whether some hidden purpose as yet unknown to me had actuated so high-minded an Artist thus to debase the Art which he held so dear. It was evident, however, that the whole Company thought that great things would come from that apparently trivial incident.

"My Lady Castlemaine," said Sir William Davenant, "hath been wreathed in smiles ever since you spoke that Epilogue. She vows that there is nothing she would not do for You. And, as already You are such a favourite with His Majesty, why, Man! there is no end to your good fortune."

And I, who watched Mr. Betterton's face again, thought to detect a strange, mysterious look in his eyes – something hidden and brooding was going on behind that noble brow, something that was altogether strange to the usually simple, unaffected and sunny temperament of the great Artist, and which I, his intimate Confidant and Friend, had not yet been able to fathom.

Whenever I looked at him these days, I was conscious as of a sultry Summer's day, when nature is outwardly calm and every leaf on every tree is still. It is only to those who are initiated in the mysteries of the Skies that the distant oncoming Storm is revealed by a mere speck of cloud or a tiny haze upon the Bosom of the Firmament, which hath no meaning to the unseeing eye, but which foretells that the great forces of Nature are gathering up their strength for the striking of a prodigious blow.

CHAPTER VII

AN ASSEMBLY OF TRAITORS

1

I, in the meanwhile, had relegated the remembrance of Lord Douglas Wychwoode and his treasonable Undertakings to a distant cell of my mind. I had not altogether forgotten them, but had merely ceased to think upon the Subject.

I was still nominally in the employ of Mr. Baggs, but he had engaged a new Clerk – a wretched, puny creature, whom Mistress Euphrosine already held in bondage – and I was to leave his Service definitely at the end of the month.

In the meanwhile, my chief task consisted in initiating the aforesaid wretched and puny Clerk into the intricacies of Mr. Theophilus Baggs' business. The boy was slow-witted and slow to learn, and Mr. Baggs, who would have liked to prove to me mine own Worthlessness, was nevertheless driven into putting some of his more important work still in my charge.

Thus it came to pass that all his Correspondence with Lord Douglas Wychwoode went through my Hands, whereby I was made aware that the Traitors – for such in truth they were – were only waiting for a favourable opportunity to accomplish their damnable Purpose.

They meant to kidnap His Majesty's sacred Person, to force him to sign an Abdication in favour of the son of Mistress Barlow – now styled the Duke of Monmouth – with the Prince of Orange as Regent during the Duke's minority.

A more abominable and treasonable Project it were impossible to conceive, and many a wrestling match did I have with mine own Conscience, whilst debating whether it were my Duty or no to betray the confidence which had been reposed in me, and to divulge the terrible Secret of that execrable plot, which threatened the very life of His Majesty the King.

I understood that the Manifestos which it had been my task to multiplicate, had met with some success. Several Gentlemen, who held rigidly Protestant views, had promised their support to a project which ostensibly aimed at the overthrow of the last vestiges of Popery in the Country. My Lord Stour, who had also become a firm Adherent of the nefarious scheme, in deference, I presume, to the Lady Barbara's wishes in the matter, had, it seems, rendered valuable service to the cause, by travelling all over the Country, seeing these proposed Adherents in person and distributing the fiery Manifestos which were to rally the Waverers to the cause.

I imagined, however, that the whole project was in abeyance for the moment, for I had heard but little of it of late; until one day I happened to be present when the Conspirators met in the house of Mr. Theophilus Baggs.

How it came to pass that these Gentlemen – who were literally playing with their lives in their nefarious undertaking – talked thus openly of their Plans and Projects in my hearing, I do not pretend to say. It is certain that they did not suspect me; thought me one of themselves, no doubt, since I had written out the Manifestos and was Clerk to Mr. Baggs, who was with them Body and Soul. No doubt, had Mr. Baggs been on the spot on that day, he would have warned the Traitors of my presence, and much of what happened subsequently would never have occurred.

Thus doth Fate at times use simple tools to gain her own ends, and it was given to an insignificant Attorney's Clerk to rule, for this one day, the future Destinies of England.

2

My Lord Stour was present on that memorable afternoon. I am betraying no Secret nor doing him an injury by saying that, because his connection with the Affair is of public knowledge, as is that of Lord Douglas Wychwoode. The names of the other Gentlemen whom I saw in Mr. Baggs' room that day I will, by your leave, keep hidden behind the veil of Anonymity, contenting myself by calling the most important among them my Lord S., and another Sir J., whilst there was also present on that occasion the gentleman in clerical Attire whom I had seen of late in Lord Douglas' Company, and who was none other than the Lord Bishop of D.

My Lord Stour was in great favour amongst them all. Every one was praising him and shaking him by the hand. His Lordship the Bishop took it upon himself to say, as he did most incisively:

"Gentlemen! I am proud and happy to affirm that it is to the Earl of Stour that we shall owe to-night the Success of our Cause. It is he who has distributed our Appeal and helped to rally round us some of our most loyal Friends!"

Lord Stour demurred, deprecated his own efforts. His Attitude was both modest and firm; I had not thought him capable of so much Nobility of Manner.

But, believe me, dear Mistress, that I felt literally confounded by what I heard. Mr. Baggs, who had pressing business in town that day, had commanded me to remain at home in order to receive certain Gentlemen who were coming to visit him. I had introduced some half-dozen of them, and they had all gone into the inner office, but left the communicating door between that room and the parlour wide open, apparently quite acquiescing in my presence there. In fact, they had all nodded very familiarly to me as they entered; evidently they felt absolutely certain of my Discretion. This, as you will readily understand, placed me in a terrible Predicament. Where lay my duty, I did not know; for, in truth, to betray the Confidence of those who trust in You is a mean and low trick, unworthy of a right-minded Christian. At the same time, there was His Majesty the King's own sacred Person in peril, and that, as far as I could gather, on this very night; and surely it became equally the duty of every loyal Subject in the land to try and protect his Sovereign from the nefarious attacks of Traitors!

Be that as it may, however, I do verily believe that if my Lord – Stour whom I hated with so deadly a hatred, and who had done my dear, dear Friend such an irreparable injury – if he, I say, had not been mixed up in the Affair, I should have done my duty as a Christian rather than as a subject of the State.

But You, dear Mistress, shall be judge of mine actions, for they have a direct bearing upon those subsequent events which have brought Mr. Betterton once again to your feet.

I have said that my Lord Stour received his Friends' congratulations and gratitude with becoming Modesty; but his Lordship the Bishop and also Lord S. insisted.

"It is thanks to your efforts, my dear Stour," Lord S. said, "that at last success is assured."

"But for you," added the Bishop, "our plan to-night might have miscarried."

My God! I thought, then it is for to-night! And I felt physically sick, whilst wondering what I should do. Even then, Lord Douglas Wychwoode's harsh Voice came quite clearly to mine ear.

"The day is ours!" he said, with a note of triumph in his tone. "Ere the sun rises again over our downtrodden Country, her dissolute King and his Minions will be in our hands!"

"Pray God it may be so!" assented one of the others piously.

"It shall and will be so," protested Lord Douglas with firm emphasis. "I know for a fact that the King sups with the Castlemaine to-night. Well! we are quite ready. By ten o'clock we shall have taken up our Positions. These have all been most carefully thought out. Some of us will be in hiding in the Long Avenue in the Privy Garden; others under the shadow of the Wall of the Bowling Green; whilst others again have secured excellent points of vantage in King Street. I am in command of the Party, and I give you my word that my Company is made up of young Enthusiasts. They, like ourselves, have had enough of this corrupt and dissolute Monarch, who ought never to have been allowed to ascend the Throne which his Father had already debased."

"You will have to be careful of the Night Watchmen about the Gardens, and of the Bodyguard at the Gate," one of the Gentlemen broke in.

"Of course we'll be careful," Lord Douglas riposted impatiently. "We have minimized our risks as far as we are able. But the King, when he sups with the Castlemaine, usually goes across to her House unattended. Sometimes he takes a Man with him across the Privy Gardens, but dismisses him at the back door of Her Ladyship's House. As for the City Watchmen over in King Street, they will give us no trouble. If they do, we can easily overpower them. The whole thing is really perfectly simple," he added finally; "and the only reason why we have delayed execution is because we wanted as many Sympathizers here in London as possible."

"Now," here interposed His Lordship the Bishop, "thanks to my Lord Stour's efforts, a number of our Adherents have come up from the country and have obtained lodgings in various Quarters of the town, so that to-morrow morning, when we proclaim the Duke of Monmouth King and the Prince of Orange Regent of the Realm, we shall be in sufficient numbers to give to our successful Coup the appearance of a national movement."

"Personally," rejoined Lord Douglas, with something of a sneer, "I think that the Populace will be very easily swayed. The Castlemaine is not popular. The King is; but it is a factitious Popularity, and one easily blown upon, once we have his Person safely out of the way. And we must remember that the 'No Popery' cry is still a very safe card to play with the mob," he added with a dry laugh.

Then they all fell to and discussed their abominable Plans all over again; whilst I, bewildered, wretched, indignant, fell on my knees and marvelled, pondered what I should do. My pulses were throbbing, my head was on fire; I had not the faculty for clear thinking. And there, in the next room, not ten paces away from where I knelt in mute and agonized Prayer, six Men were planning an outrage against their King; amidst sneers and mirthless laughter and protestations of loyalty to their Country, they planned the work of Traitors. They drew their Swords and there was talk of invoking God's blessing upon their nefarious Work.

God's blessing! Methought 'twas Blasphemy, and I put my hands up to mine ears lest I should hear those solemn words spoken by a consecrated Bishop of our Church, and which called for the Almighty's help to accomplish a second Regicide.

Aye! A Regicide! What else was it? as all those fine Gentlemen knew well enough in their hearts. Would not the King resist? He was young and vigorous. Would he not call for help? Had not my Lady Castlemaine Servants who would rush to His Majesty's assistance? What then? Was there to be murder once more, and bloodshed and rioting – fighting such as we poor Citizens of this tortured land had hoped was behind us forever?

And if it came to a hand-to-hand scuffle with the King's most Sacred Majesty? My God! I shuddered to think what would happen then!

There was a mighty humming in my ears, like the swarm of myriads of bees; a red veil gradually spread before my eyes, which obscured the familiar Surroundings about me. Through the haze which gradually o'er-clouded my brain, I heard the voices of those Traitors droning out their blasphemous Oaths.

"Swear only to draw your swords in this just cause, and not to shed unnecessary blood!"

And then a chorus which to my ears sounded like the howling of Evil Spirits let loose from hell:

"We swear!"

"Then may God's blessing rest upon You. May His Angels guard and protect You and give You the strength to accomplish what You purpose to do!"

There was a loud and prolonged "Amen!" But I waited no longer. I rose from my knees, suddenly calm and resolved. Do not laugh at me, dear Mistress, for my conceit and my presumption when I say that I felt that the destinies of England rested in my hands.

Another Regicide! Oh, my God! Another era of civil Strife and military Dictatorship such as we had endured in the past decade! Another era of Suspicions and Jealousies and Intrigues between the many Factions who would wish to profit by this abominable crime! It was unthinkable. Whether the King was God's Anointed or not, I, for one, am too ignorant to decide; but this I know, that the Stuart Prince was chosen little more than a year ago by the will of his People, that he returned to England acclaimed and beloved by this same Populace which was now to be egged on to treason against him by a handful of ambitious Malcontents, who did not themselves know what it was they wanted.

No! It should not be! Not while there existed an humble and puny subject of this Realm who had it in his power to put a spoke in the wheel of that Chariot of Traitors.

Ah! there was no more wavering in my heart now! no more doubts and hesitation! I would not be betraying the confidence of a trusting Man; merely disposing of a secret which Chance had tossed carelessly in my path – a Secret which pertained to abominable Miscreants, one of whom was the man whom I detested more than any one or anything on God's earth – a flippant, arrogant young Reprobate who had dared to level a deadly insult against a Man infinitely his superior in Intellect and in Worth, and before whom now he should be made to lick the dust of Ignominy.

I was now perfectly calm. From my desk I took a copy of the Manifesto which had remained in my possession all this while. I read the contents through very carefully, so as to refresh my memory. Then I took up my pen and, at the foot of the treasonable document, I wrote the word: "To-night." Having done that, I took a sheet of notepaper and carefully wrote down the names of all the Gentlemen who were even now in the next room, and of several others whom I had heard mentioned by the Traitors in the course of their Conversation. The two papers I folded carefully and closed them down with sealing wax.

My hand did not shake whilst I did all this. I was perfectly deliberate, for my mind was irrevocably made up. When I had completed these preparations, I slipped the precious Documents into my pocket, took up my hat and cloak, and went out to accomplish the Errand which I had set myself to do.

CHAPTER VIII

THE LION'S WRATH

1

His Majesty the King was, of course, inaccessible to such as I. And the time was short.

Did I say that the hour was even then after six? The streets were very dark, for overhead the sky was overcast, and as I walked rapidly down the Lane to the Temple Stairs, a thin, penetrating drizzle began to fall.

My first thought had been to take boat to Westminster and to go to the house of Mr. Betterton in Tothill Street, there to consult with him as to what would be my best course to pursue. But I feel sure that You, dear Mistress, will understand me when I say that I felt a certain pride in keeping my present Project to myself.

I was not egotistical enough to persuade myself that love of Country and loyalty to my King were the sole motive powers of my Resolve. My innermost Heart, my Conscience perhaps, told me that an ugly Desire for Revenge had helped to stimulate my patriotic Ardour. I had realized that it lay in my power to avenge upon an impious Malapert the hideous Outrage which he had perpetrated against the Man whom I loved best in all the World.

I had realized, in fact, that I could become the instrument of Mr. Betterton's revenge.

That my Denunciation of the abominable Conspiracy would involve the Disgrace – probably the Death – of others who were nothing to me, I did not pause to consider. They were all Traitors, anyhow, and all of them deserving of punishment.

So, on the whole, I decided to act for myself. When I had seen the Countess of Castlemaine and had put her on her guard, I would go to Mr. Betterton and tell him what I had done.

I beg you to believe, however, dear Mistress, that no thought of any reward had entered my mind, other than a Word of Appreciation from my Friend.

2

I had, as perhaps you know, a slight acquaintance with Mistress Floid, who is one of my Lady Castlemaine's tire-women. Through her, I obtained speech with her Ladyship.

It was not very difficult. I sent in the two Documents through Mistress Floid's hands. Five minutes later I was told that my Lady desired speech with me.

I was a little bewildered and somewhat dazzled to be in the presence of so great a lady. The richness of the House, the liveries of the Servants, the superciliousness of the Lacqueys, all tended to discompose me; whilst the subtle Scent of Spice and Perfumes which hung in the air and the chorus of bird-song which came from an unseen Aviary, helped to numb my Senses. I was thankful that I had not trusted to Speech and Memory, but had set documentary Evidence forward to prove what I had to say.

Of my interview with her Ladyship I have only a confused memory. I know that she asked many questions and listened to my stammering replies with obvious impatience; but I have only a very vague recollection of her flashing Eyes, of her Face, flaming with anger, of her jewelled Hand clutching the documents which I had brought, and of the torrent of vituperative abuse which she poured upon the Traitors, who she vowed would pay with their lives for their Infamy. I know that, in the end, I was allowed to kiss her hand and that she thanked me in her own Name and that of His Majesty for my Loyalty and my Discretion.

I went out of the room and out of the house like a Man in a dream. A whirl of conflicting Emotions was rending my heart and my brain, until sheer physical nausea caused me nigh to swoon.

Truly it was a terrible Experience for a simple-minded Clerk to go through, and it is a marvel to me that my brain did not give way under the Strain.

But my instinct – like that of a faithful dog seeking shelter – led me to the lodgings of Mr. Betterton in Tothill Street, the very house in which his father had lived before him.

He had not yet returned from the Theatre, where he was at Rehearsal; but his Servant knew me well and allowed me to go up into the parlour and to lie down upon the sofa for a moment's rest.

It was then nearing seven, and I knew that Mr. Betterton would soon be coming home. I now felt infinitely weary; numbness of body and brain had followed the conflicting Emotions of the past hours, and I was only conscious of an overwhelming desire to rest.

I closed my eyes. The place was warm and still; a veritable Haven of Quietude. And it was the place where dwelt the Man for whose sake I had just done so much. For awhile I watched the play of the firelight upon the various articles of furniture in the room; but soon a pleasing Torpor invaded my tired Brain, and I fell asleep.

3

The sound of Voices upon the landing outside, the opening and closing of one door and then another, recalled me to myself. The familiar sound of my Friend's footsteps gave me an infinity of Pleasure.

The next moment Mr. Betterton came into the room. He was preceded by his Servant, who brought in a couple of Candles which he placed upon the table. Apparently he had said nothing to his Master about my presence here, for Mr. Betterton seemed vastly surprised when he saw me. I had just jumped to my feet when I heard him entering the room, and I suppose that I must have looked somewhat wild and dishevelled, for he expressed great astonishment at my Appearance.

Astonishment, and also Pleasure.

"Why, friend Honeywood!" he exclaimed, and came to greet me with both hands outstretched. "What favourable Wind hath blown you to this port?"

He looked tired and very much aged, methought. He, a young Man, then in the prime of Life, looked harassed and weary; all the Elasticity seemed to have gone out of his Movements, all the Springiness from his Footstep. He sat down and rested his elbows on his knees, clasped his slender hands together and stared moodily into the fire.

I watched him for awhile. His clear-cut Profile was outlined like an Italian Cameo against the dark angle of the room; the firelight gave a strange glow to his expressive Eyes and to the sensitive Mouth with the firm lips pressed closely together, as if they would hold some Secret which was even then threatening to escape.

That look of dark and introspective Brooding sat more apparent now than ever upon his mobile face, and I marvelled if the News which I was about to impart would tend to dissipate that restless, searching glance, which seemed for ever to be probing into the future decrees of Fate.

"I have come to tell you news, Sir," I said after a while.

He started as from a Reverie, and said half-absently:

"News? What news, friend? Good, I hope."

"Yes," I replied very quietly, even though I felt that my heart was beating fast within my breast with excitement. "Good news of the Man You hate."

He made no reply for the moment, and even by the dim, uncertain light of the fire I could see the quick change in his face. I cannot explain it exactly, but it seemed as if something Evil had swept over it, changing every noble line into something that was almost repellent.

My heart beat faster still. I was beginning to feel afraid and a queer, choking Sensation gripped me by the throat and silenced the Words which were struggling to come to my lips.

"Well?" queried Mr. Betterton a second or two later, in a calm, dull, unemotional Voice. "What is thy news, friend Honeywood?"

"There is a plot," I replied, still speaking with an effort, "against His Majesty and the Countess of Castlemaine."

"I knew that," he rejoined. "'Tis no news. There is more than one plot, in fact, against the King and the Castlemaine. You surely haven't come out on this wet night," he added with a mirthless laugh, "in order to tell me that!"

After all that I had gone through, after my tussle with my conscience and my fight against myself, I felt nettled by his flippant tone.

"I know not," I said firmly, "if there is more than one plot against His Majesty the King. But I do know that there is one which aims at striking at his sacred Person to-night."

"That also is possible," he retorted, with still that same air of flippant Carelessness. "But even so, I do not see, my dear Friend, what You can do in the matter."

"I can denounce the Plot," I riposted warmly, "and help to save the life of His Majesty the King."

"So you can, my dear Honeywood," he said with a smile, amused at my vehemence. "So you can! And upon the King's gratitude you may lay the foundations of your future Fortune."

"I was not thinking of a Fortune," I retorted gruffly; "only of Revenge."

At this he looked up suddenly, leaned forward and in the firelight tried to read my face.

"Revenge?" he queried curtly. "What do you mean?"