St. George's Cross Part 2

Whatever projects the young men might be disposed to form for the purpose of eluding the prudent precautions of their seniors were for the moment cut short by a knocking at the door, which made them start aside like the disturbed conspirators that they were.

"Quick! vanish," muttered the King sharply; "behind the bureau there. If the comer be Nicholas let him not see thee here. He bears thee no good will."

As Elliot hurriedly obeyed, the door slowly opened, giving entrance to the Rector of S. Owen. The worthy clergyman still wore the gown and bands in which he had preached in the forenoon, and carried in his hand the four-cornered but boardless college-cap which formed part of the clerical costume of those days. Bestowing upon the youthful King a look whose awestruck humility was at curious variance with the respective ages and appearance of the two, and making an awkward obeisance, Mr. La Cloche spoke:--

"I crave your pardon, Sir. Receiving no reply to my knock I presumed to enter, deeming mine errand an excuse."

Charles pointed to a seat and drew himself up with dignity:--

"It needs no further excuse, reverend Sir, say on, and fear nothing." La Cloche seated himself on the corner of the chair.

"It is my humble duty to warn your Majesty that Jersey is no suitable place for your residence," he said.

"We are very much of your mind," answered Charles, "but how made you the mighty discovery?"

"I have been dining," answered the clergyman, "in company with the Honourable Sir Edward Nicholas, Knight, Secretary of State to your Majesty. Certain of your Majesty's affectionate servants and well-wishers were of the party, as also the Lieutenant-Governor, who was the host. The discourse was grave; and albeit without permission of the gentlemen--yet, in virtue of mine office, I hope I but antic.i.p.ate their humble duty to your Majesty, if I take upon myself to lay their thoughts before you."

"And for your own part, Sir, as a Jerseyman having, both by religion and as a Member of the States, the means of knowing what the people think, you would fain join your own private word to those who are refusing an asylum to Charles Stuart in the dominions of his fathers. You had better let them speak for themselves."

The clergyman shuffled in his uneasy seat. The perspicacity of the young man--it is a part of a Prince's stock-in-trade--had taken him by surprise.

"I am an old man," he faltered, "unversed in affairs of State. If it be true, however, that the Lord Jermyn...."

"Our mother's trusted councillor, Mr. Rector! What of my Lord Jermyn?

Thou hast not said enough--or, by G.o.d! thou hast said too much."

The Chaplain's island temper hardened under menace, even from the Lord's Anointed. What he felt he did not indeed care to lay bare: yet the upshot he would tell. The King's recent exploit in the parish of which he was Rector had come to his ears, garnished and exaggerated, perhaps; and he was determined to get rid of such visitors if he could. The news from France was an occasion, and he gladly used it. Lord Jermyn, it seemed, had been talking openly--and not for the first time--of selling the Channel Islands to France; and his connection with the Queen made men suspect that he had not entertained such a design without high sanction. On the other hand the Rector knew that Carteret would sooner cede the Island over which he was set to Cromwell than see it occupied by the French. The King would be in obvious danger, and he had determined, under that excuse, to endeavour to dispose the King's mind towards a removal which he himself, on other grounds, considered highly desirable. Charles listened to all the clergyman had to say, with impatience thinly veiled by good breeding. When the speaker came to a pause, the King said, with a kinder manner, "Thou hast done well, and hast given no just cause of offence to anyone. Mr. Secretary is an approved friend: but I need not remind your Reverence of the prayer of the Psalmist: 'Let not his precious balms break mine head!'"

The King's manner indicated that the conference was at an end. He wished to get rid of the Rector, not only because the good man was "boring"

him, as would be said now-a-days, but because he had but little trust in Tom Elliot's discretion, and thought that at any moment the page might be led to break forth from what must needs be an irksome confinement.

Moreover, the King knew that, sooner or later, he would have to undergo a more serious lecture from some of his councillors, and it was an object with him to make some inquiries in confidential quarters and devise a course of speech if not of action.

But the worthy Rector was, as he said, unversed in the ways of the great; and the young King's affable manner had drawn him into forgetfulness of any little lessons of etiquette that he might have ever learned. Instead of departing on the King's hint, he let his tongue wag afresh.

"Alack, Sir! may your Majesty's prayers be heard. And may what I have done breed myself no harm! For what saith the Wise Man? 'Burden not thyself above thy power while thou livest, and have no fellowship with one that is mightier than thyself: for how agree the kettle and earthen pot together?'"

"It was well said of the Wise Man," observed the King demurely. "And your Reverence will do well to consider the words that follow, if my memory do not deceive me;--'If thou be invited of a great man, _withdraw thyself_!'"

The underlined words, being p.r.o.nounced with a voice changed to a sharp and sudden tone from the solemn snuffle into which the King had slid in first quoting _Ecclesiasticus_, were too much for Elliot, who broke into an irrepressible giggle behind the bureau. Mr. La Cloche started at the sound; then, recollecting himself, retired with a bow into which he threw a look of surprise not unmixed with silent reproach.

Still laughing, the page emerged from his ambush, knocking the dust from his doublet with his hand, and eyeing the door as it closed after the retreating Rector.

"I'll wager he thinks thou wert a wench, Tom," cried Charles; "but tell me, how much of the worthy parson's discourse didst thou hear?"

"As much as you desire, Sir, and no more," was the discreet reply. "But it is true that one is come from France who knows Lord Jermyn."

"Jermyn," said the King, half soliloquising, "is a son of a----; and I would as lief run him through the body as I would open an oyster. But that is neither here nor there; such pleasures are not for Kings." He sate thinking for a few minutes, and then, looking up, added, "Go, Tom, and tell Nicholas and the rest that I would see them here."

The page departed, presently returning to introduce four gentlemen, after which, he again left the room and shut the door, which it would be his office to keep against all intrusion while the conference lasted.

One of the visitors appeared to take precedence; a tall, high-featured man, with a stoop and a receding chin. This was Lord Hopton, one of the most respectable of Charles's followers; an honourable, stupid, middle-aged n.o.bleman, who could never marshal his own thoughts and who, necessarily, spoke without persuading others. The other Englishmen were Nicholas, the Secretary of State, and the old Lord Cottington. The fourth gentleman was Sir George Carteret, the Lieutenant-Governor, a bluff sea-faring man, little used to obey, yet anxious, in that presence, to be deferential; with an unmistakable pugnacity varnished over with a gloss of _ruse_. There being but one arm-chair in the room Charles took his seat upon it, and awaited the advice of his friends who perforce remained standing.

"I have sent for you, my Lords and gentlemen, to confer on the matter brought me by Mr. La Cloche, the Rector of St. Owen, and Chaplain to Sir George Carteret."

Hopton opened the conference, speaking in a dull, precise manner, from the lips only, hardly opening his teeth:--

"May it please you Sir, Mr. La Cloche hath reported to me, as I met him returning from your presence, that while he was imparting to your Highness--I may say, your Majesty--a matter of great moment, there was one hid in the room that played the eavesdropper. Before proceeding farther I would humbly ask...."

"Hold there, my Lord," broke in Charles. "Remember, I pray you, that--howbeit our present power, by the malice of our enemies, be brought to a narrow pa.s.s, we are still, by the grace of G.o.d your King, of full age, moreover, and no longer to be schooled. As touching what anyone may have heard here, by our consent, we need answer to no man; neither to Mr. La Cloche nor to your Lordship. There is, however, no one but ourselves in this room, as you may clearly see. As to the matter of the priest's discourse, we opine that it is already known to you. It is of that matter that we now seek to know your minds."

The words were not ungracefully uttered; but Hopton found no immediate answer. He only knit his narrow brow and held his peace. Carteret, however, stepped briskly forward; and would perhaps have committed some indiscretion had not Nicholas plucked him by the cloak. "By your leave, Mr. Lieutenant," said the jovial lawyer, "I would say an humble word to his Majesty, with the freedom of an ancient servant." His round face and merry eye were rendered serious by the resolution of a full-lipped yet firm mouth. "Sir!" said he, turning to the young King with a look in which the _bonhomie_ of an indulgent Mentor was blended with genuine respect, "it will, no doubt, seem to your Majesty both meet and proper that we should not leave a meddlesome parson to let you know that our faithful hearts have been sorely exercised by that which is newly come to us out of France. Not to stay on sundry general advertis.e.m.e.nts and rumours that have reached us--and which seemed to glance at a very exalted personage--I mean, more particularly, what we have received this morning from a very discreet and knowing gentleman (now residing at Paris) of what he hath learned from persons of honour conversant in the secrets of the Court there."

"If it be her Majesty the Queen that you fear to name, Mr. Secretary,"

interrupted the King, "it is but vain to fence. Do your duty, as you have ever done."

"With your Majesty's leave, I will name no one, save it be one Mr.

Cooly, Secretary to the Lord Jermyn, whom your Majesty, doubtless, graciously recollects. Our informant was plainly asked by this gentleman, how the islanders would take it if there should be an overture of giving them up to the French."

"This is but talk," observed the King.

"Nay Sir, there is yet more. This letter, which is come to one of us in cypher, goes on to tell that it hath been heard, from a very good source, that the chief mover herein is to be made Duke and Peer of France, and receive 200,000 pistoles, for which he is to deliver up not Jersey only but Guernsey, Aurigny, and Serk. Nay, further, his Eminence Cardinal Mazarine hath taken up ships for the transport of 2,000 French soldiers, nominally for the service of your Majesty, actually for the service whereof we are now speaking."

"Let them come," said Charles. "We will put ourself at their head and fall upon Guernsey, that nest of Roundheads where Osborne and honest Baldwin Wake have borne so long the brunt of insult and privation."

"Under your favour, Sir," broke in Carteret, "you would be bubbled. I have seen and spoke with a known creature of my Lord Jermyn's; and I know well that the design of the French is--so to speak--to clap your Majesty under the hatches, and to steer the vessel on their own account.

Mr. La Cloche shall answer for this," he added in a lower tone.

"By your leave again, Sir George," put in the beaming Secretary, "we lawyers are to speak by our calling. It is not indeed, Sir, that my Lord Jermyn hath made direct overtures to us. And 'tis to be thought that in this last respect the messenger spoke but according to his own understanding."

"I would cut every throat in the island," cried Carteret, with savage interruption....

"Sir George Cartwright's zeal hath eaten him up," said Nicholas with a twinkle of his merry eye. "Let it suffice that the concurrent information of divers persons (and they strangers to one another), together with the Lord Jermyn's total neglect of the island in regard of the provisions that he hath not sent as promised nor repaid sums of money lent to your service by the people, have led us to sign a paper of a.s.sociation for which we shall crave your gracious approval. We doubt not you will agree with us that the delivery of the islands to the French is not consistent with the duty and fidelity of Englishmen, and would be an irreparable loss to the nation besides being an indelible dishonour to the Crown."

As Charles took the paper handed him for perusal by Nicholas, a flush arose upon his swarthy countenance.

"Enough said, my Lords and gentlemen! We need not that any should instruct us as to our duty."

"We trust not," cried Carteret, bluffly. "If the French come here we shall give them a sour welcome; and as to my Lord the Governor, he will find," and he slipped in his eagerness into his native tongue, "that he has made _le marche de la peau de l'ours qui ne seroit pas encore tue_."

Presently the little Council broke up. The King, after glancing at the paper of a.s.sociation, consented that Lord Hopton--in whose diplomatic abilities he perhaps did not feel much confidence--should proceed at once to the Hague, and lay the case before the States General of Holland as the power most interested--after England--in sifting and, if need were, opposing the designs of France. Meanwhile the articles of the a.s.sociation were not to be divulged; the whole affair being kept a profound secret and mystery of State.

Somewhat relieved, the a.s.sociates then retired from the presence of the yawning King, and pa.s.sed down the little corridor. Here they found Elliot keeping watch, and pacing innocently to and fro. And the graceless page bowed their Honours down the stairs, without betraying by his manner anything to suggest--which was, nevertheless, the simple truth--that he had been attentively listening to as much of their recent conversation as could be gathered through the imperfect channel afforded by the key-hole of the door. Carteret cursed La Cloche's officious meddling all the way to his own quarters, and on arriving there sent a sergeant to the unfortunate clergyman, who deported him to France by the next boat that sailed.

On returning to the room, Elliot found Charles walking up and down the narrow floor of his room in evident excitement.

"Tom," said the King, as the page entered, "what is to do here? It seems that I am not to be master even in this little island of Hop o' my Thumb. They lord it over me even as they did when I was here before, as Prince of Wales _in partibus_."

"Why then," answered the audacious youth, "I would even show them a clean pair of heels, and take refuge with the Scots."