Mistress Penwick Part 36

"But 'twill do thee no good, 'tis not thy nature to be round. Hast thou seen the young heir? He is a l.u.s.ty fellow; and 'tis well worth a journey to the nursery to see him," and he took her hand and raised her to her feet. "Come, we will go and call upon his lordship."

There was an agonized expression on Constance' face as she was compelled to move at the King's bidding. Slowly she moved. It seemed every motion was full of painful effort. All eyes, for some unaccountable reason, appeared to turn to the train of her dress that rustled subtlely; even Constance turned to look back and down with bulging eyes on that silken train, and though she moved ever so cautiously the bristling folds caught upon the edge of the stool and turned it over, the cocoanuts, poison bottle and all falling a-sprawl.

The King bent down and picked up the vial, then dropped it quickly, saying,--

"Odd's fish, the female that did don man's attire and flirt about with foppish airs is trying to play the hen and has made a nest and gone to setting on spoiled eggs that will hatch nothing but shades, and wraiths, and mandrakes!" And he lifted a cocoanut, from which the milk was oozing out slowly and in a curdled state.

"And who, mistress of the chemist's shop, hath taught thee his art?"

"'Tis a great and awful thing that hath happened; indeed, oh! King, I knew not the things were under the stool--"

"Then 'twas unfortunate thou shouldst remain seated before thy King; in this case 'twas condemning." And he turned and cried,--

"Hi! hi! call the guard! Thou shalt go into durance until I have sifted this dairy business." Before the unfortunate woman could open her mouth to plead further, the King was gone and two stalwart guards stood at either side of her, ready to conduct her behind bolts and bars.

Now the King was inclined to be easy with all his subjects, but when treason lay so open before him, he was quick to punish. Constance, being a cousin of the Duke of Ellswold, he put the case before him. On the instant, the Duke gave a solution to Constance' aims, explaining everything to the King. He also--for he dreaded what the King might do--said 'twas possible she was not of sound mind. His Majesty saw the Duke's drift and declared that death should not come upon her, but she should be imprisoned. This satisfied the Duke, for he was seriously afraid for the young heir and his wife.

Now Constance was utterly without hope. She was degraded at Court, nevermore to rise again, and of course this state of things would be known at every street corner. Even though she could make her escape, where could she go? Who would accept her as the n.o.ble Lady Constance again? She would wander up and down the world, friendless; while Katherine would have love, wealth and honour, all one could wish for, all there was in life to have.

"Nay, nay, nay!" she cried in her agony. "I shall have one more chance." She threw out her arms to the air and ground her teeth and dragged herself from end to end of her bare and lonely cell. "One more chance," she cried, "and 'twill be death to her; aye, death!"

CHAPTER XXIV

WHAT HAPPENED IN THE TOWER

Sir Julian had been striving for months to make peace with the young d.u.c.h.ess; but all effort appeared futile, until Providence suddenly stepped in and aided him. Cantemir had turned religious, owing to the taking hold upon him of a mortal disease; and though he had not been about to undo any of his schemes in Cedric's case, yet he intended to do so as soon as he was able. He was not idle, however, as he wrote many letters and received visits from the ones who were foremost in the fight. Nor was he long in discovering that their feelings were already changed toward Ellswold, for they saw 'twas unpopular to be striving against the King's desires, and against a n.o.bleman who would be very powerful when he should regain his fortunes. The Count wrote to Pomphrey, saying he wished to speak face to face with him.

At this interview the Russian unburdened his heart of all malice and hatred, and gave vent to ill-gotten secrets, of which Buckingham's schemes were foremost. So open and frank was the Count in his a.s.sertions there was no doubt in Sir Julian's mind but what he had created an wholesome feeling with his conscience; and for himself, recognized the interview as nothing more nor less than the comely intervention of Providence.

Sir Julian determined upon an immediate _rendezvous_ with Sir John Penwick, to the end that a concerted movement might effectually bring the Duke to his senses. He loved Buckingham, but he loved the d.u.c.h.ess of Ellswold more, and for this cause of peace, intended to hedge the Duke about with an impenetrable wall.

Buckingham soon saw that the strings were closing about him, and that 'twas Sir Julian who held the taut ends. But the great Duke had still one more move, a move so venturesome, so involved with hazard, that when 'twas made, the King himself admired and paid homage to its projector.

The Duke knew that Sir Julian, with a whisper in the King's ear, could send him to the Tower. So at the point of Sir Julian's sword--metaphorically--he was forced to go to the King and straighten matters as best he could. This the great Duke did, with the most exquisite urbanity. He knew well the King's humour, and the most propitious moment in it, and propinquity played him fair, and there vibrated in his Majesty's ear the dulcet tones of George Villiers magnetic voice, saying,--

"Oh, King! may I tell thee of what foul issue fulsome Nature hath brought forth, and what travail I suffer for--"

"Odd's fish! what hast thou been doing, George, what hast thou--"

"Oh, King!" and the Duke bowed upon his knee and touched with his lips the great ring upon his Majesty's hand; "I did engender with a brain unwebbed by wine, a body ample of strength and health, my soul absolved, my heart palpitant with pure love and rich intention; but corruptible Nature hath adulterated and brought forth an oaf, to which I lay no claim--"

"Egad! Duke; we'll wager a kilderkin of chaney oranges at four pence each and a dozen cordial juleps with pearls that thy conscience is about to bewray thee."

"Your Royal Highness doth honour me by the a.s.sumption that such a kingly component is mine. I cannot gainsay thy a.s.sertion, but who but my King could touch to life the almost undefined limning of moral faculty that has been my poor possession heretofore--"

"And who but thy King would give to thy swart issue a, no doubt, condign interest; come, curtail loquacity!"

"Then, your Majesty, to be brief, I have raised for thee the subsidies thou were too modest to ask the House for--"

"Odd's fish, and this is thine oaf; oaf, callest thou it, when it has brought unspeakable joy to thy King? Not so, 'tis an issue that outshines in weight, point of beauty and actual worth that bouncing youngster of Ellswold's."

"But, oh! King, I counted not upon the exigencies of thy love. I thought only of the pleasure 'twould give thee to have subsidies without plea, and I have made two of thy favourites my victims. How should I know that the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess of Ellswold were to become nestlings in thy cradle of love?" The King's face darkened, but for a moment only, as the sunshine of full coffers had penetrated the vista of his needs, and a cloud even though it bore the after-rain was not to darken his expectations. "I beg thine indulgence to allow me to presume upon fancy. Supposing Sir John Penwick was alive and had committed a crime that made it impossible for him to seek the aid of his beloved King; that the said Sir John has vast possessions in the New World that rightfully belonged to the English crown as hostage for his own life, that had been in the hands of the French; that these matters had been brought to the King's ear, but his Royal Highness had been troubled with weightier affairs at home, and that one of his very lowly but loyal subjects had undertaken, without aid of Government, to secure these possessions for his King, calling to his aid the generosity of Ellswold, who was willing to give all without knowing why, save 'twas for his King and--"

"And Penwick has proven guiltless and comes to his King to claim his rightful possession;--and the subsidies--"

"Are still thine, and thou shalt have them within a fortnight, if thou wilt grant me one small request, oh! King."

"Thou hast it. Be brief."

"Of my appointment, a new keeper of the Tower." The King started and half turned from the Duke, while through his mind ran hurriedly the names of "Chasel, Howard, Baumais" and "who hath he in mind." Then like a flash came the thought of Lady Constance, and he turned about quickly and said with severity,--

"Thou hast our word," and with a gesture gave the Duke his _conge_.

That very night just as the early moon began to whiten the Towers of old London, the key turned in the door of Lady Constance' cell; but turned so lazily--either from indolence or an unaccustomed hand--that her ladyship looked up and saw to her surprise a new gaoler. He smiled, thereby giving to the heart of its object a great thrill of joy, for it meant kindliness and kindliness is often predicated of selfishness or a desire for things one has not.

"What is thy name, fool?"

"Just plain Fool," and he gave her due obeisance.

"And why so?"

"Is it not enough to be so christened by so great a lady?"

"Then thou art not a subsidiary but chief factotum?"

"Aye, the other is ill and I have spent the afternoon in learning the--names."

"Thou shouldst be well paid for so short a season.--Is he serious?"

"I hope so, good lady."

"Oh! if thou wouldst make profit of thy time, begin by bringing hither for my supper good ale and wine, with sugar and spices; and I will brew thee such a horn as thou hast ne'er thought on before. And thou for each good turn shalt drink a wa.s.sail to thy buxom wench and shalt have money for the ba.s.set-table."

It is needless to say that Buckingham knew his man, and Constance'

desires for one whom she could bribe. The latter's first and only desire was for means of escape, and to this end tried to bribe the keeper for man's attire. This was not the Duke's aim, and Constance, being thwarted, struck quickly upon another means.

She succeeded in getting the promise of a visit from Cantemir, who was little able to be about, but he intended to see her of his own accord, that he might move her to a lively interest in the salvation of her soul.

In antic.i.p.ation of his visit, Constance had obtained through the gaoler certain drugs of nondescript virtues. These she carefully hid and made her final preparations for a speedy flight.

Cantemir stopped for a moment, as he stepped from the chair, and looked up at the prison walls, that were made grey and indistinct by the clouded moon and falling rain. Religion had changed him even more than the ravages of disease. His true self had awakened, and the beauty of it had devoured the Satanic expression that was wont to lie upon his countenance. His face fairly beamed with a light that came from within, where his soul stirred now free from sin's fetters.

He was conducted by the keeper through the windings of the sombre corridors to the cell of Constance, who greeted him with the words:

"Now, Adrian, we can excuse wantonness in the devil, but never slothfulness in religion. We have no shrines here as abroad; what has kept thee from thy captive cousin?"