The King's Highway Part 50

Meet me then at twelve o'clock exactly, at the little inn by the water, called the Swan, near Kingston Bridge. I will be there waiting for you. It is a likely hour to find the King after he comes from chapel; but I will apply beforehand both in your name and in mine; for I heard some time ago, from Harry Sherbrooke, that you had won such praises from William as he seldom bestows on any one."

"At twelve to-morrow!" said Wilton, thoughtfully. "I was to have been at the Tower at twelve to-morrow. But it matters not. That engagement I at least may break without losing my honour, or wounding her heart.

But tell me, tell me, Green, is there any hope, is there any chance of our being successful?"

"There is great hope, there is great chance," replied Green. "I will not, indeed, say that it is by any means sure; for what is there we can rely upon on earth? Have I not seen everything break down beneath me like mere reeds, and shall I now put my faith in any man? But still, Wilton, I will ask this thing. I will see William of Orange--I will call him King at once--for King he is in fact; and far more kingly in his courage and his nature than the weak man who never will wear the crown of these realms again. We will both urge our pet.i.tion to the throne; and even if he have forgotten the last words that he said to me, those which you have to speak perhaps may prove sufficient. He is not a cruel or a b.l.o.o.d.y-minded man; and I do believe he forgets his enmities more easily than he does his friendships. If we could have said the same of the race of Stuart, the crown of England would never have rested on the brow of the Prince of Orange. I thought to have led you to other scenes and other conferences to-night," he added, "but this matter changes all, and we will now part. I will to my task, and prepare the way for to-morrow.

You to yours; but fail not, Wilton, fail not. Be rather before than after the hour."

"I will not fail," replied Wilton; and after this short conference, he turned his rein and rode back to London.

As he went, he meditated on the hopes which his conference with Green had raised up again; but the brightness of those hopes faded away beneath the light of thought. Yet, though such was the case, the determination remained, and grew firmer and stronger, perhaps from the want of any very great expectation. He determined to appeal to the King, as the last act in his power; to do so firmly and resolutely; and if the King refused his pet.i.tion, and gave him no reason to hope, to apply, as the next greatest favour, for a memorandum in writing of his having so appealed, in order that he might prove to Laura and her father that he had done all in his power to give the Duke an opportunity of rejecting that means of escape, which could only be obtained by uniting his daughter to one, from whom, in any other circ.u.mstances, he would have withheld her.

"It is strange," he said to himself, "it is strange and sad, that I can scarcely move a step in any way without the risk of dishonour; and that the only means to avoid it requires every exertion to deprive myself of peace, and happiness, and love for ever."

Thus he thought as he went along; and imagination pictured his next parting from her he loved, and all that was to follow it--the grief that she would suffer as well as himself--the long dreary lapse of sad and cheerless hours that was to fill up the remainder of existence for him, with all happy hopes at an end, and fortune, station, love, gone away like visions of the night.

Early on the ensuing morning, he despatched a note to the Tower, telling Laura that business, affecting her father's safety, would keep him away from her at the hour he had promised to visit her. He would be with her, he said, at all events before nightfall; and he added every term of love and affection that his heart suggested; but at the same time he could not prevent a tone of sadness spreading through his letter, which communicated to Laura a fear lest her father's hopes of escape should be frustrated.

By eleven o'clock Wilton was at the door of the small inn named for the meeting; and two handsome horses which were standing there, held by a servant, announced that Green had arrived before him. On going in, he found his strange friend far more splendidly dressed than he had ever seen him, apparently waiting for his coming. His fine person told to much advantage, his upright carriage and somewhat proud and stern demeanour, the grave and thoughtful look of his eye, all gave him the appearance of one of high mind and high station, accustomed to action and command. A certain sort of gay and dissipated look, which he had previously borne, was altogether gone: within the last few months he had become paler and thinner, and his countenance had a.s.sumed an air of gloom which did not even leave it when he laughed.

As Wilton now advanced towards him, he could not but feel that there was something dignified and imposing in his aspect; and yet it caused him a strange sensation, to think that he was going into the King's presence in company with a man whom he had actually first met upon the King's Highway.

"I am glad you have come early, Wilton," said Green. "The King returns from the chapel at a quarter past twelve, and expects us to be in waiting at that hour, when he will see us. This is no slight favour, I find, Wilton," he added, "for the palace is full of courtiers, all eager and pressing for royal attention. Let us go immediately, then, and ride slowly up to the palace."

They mounted their horses accordingly, and rode on, speaking a few words from time to time, but not, indeed, absolutely conversing, for both were far too thoughtful, and too much impressed with the importance of the act they were about to perform, to leave the tongue free and unfettered.

On their arrival at the palace, they found that the King had not yet returned from the chapel; but on being asked whether they came by appointment or not, and giving their names, they were admitted into a waiting-room where two or three other people were already a.s.sembled.

The moments pa.s.sed slowly, and it seemed as if the King would never return.

At length, however, a distant flourish of drums and trumpets was heard, together with the sounds of many people pa.s.sing to and fro in the courts and pa.s.sages. Buzzing conversation, manifold footfalls, gay laughter, announced that the morning service was over, and the congregation of the royal chapel dispersed.

CHAPTER XLIV.

In the royal closet, at the palace of Hampton Court, stood King William III. leaning against a gilt railing, placed round some ornamental objects, near one of the windows. The famous Lord Keeper Somers stood beside him, while, at a little distance behind appeared Keppel, Lord Albemarle, and before him, a tall, fine-looking man, somewhat past the middle age, slight, but dignified in his person, and with an air of ease and grace in his whole position and demeanour, which bespoke long familiarity with courts. William gazed at him with a smile, and heard him speak evidently with pleasure.

"Well, my lord," he said, "I am very glad of the news you give me.

With the a.s.sistance of yourself, and my Lord Keeper here, together with that of our good friend the Duke of Shrewsbury, I doubt not now my affairs will go well. I am happy to see your health so well restored, my lord; for you know my friendship for you well enough, to be aware, that I was seriously afflicted at your illness, for your own sake, as well as because it deprived me of the counsel and a.s.sistance of one, who, as I thought he would, has proved himself the only person sufficiently loved by all men, to reconcile the breaches between some of my best friends."

"Most grateful I am, sir," replied the Earl of Sunbury, to this unusually long speech, "that Heaven has made me an instrument for that purpose, and I can never sufficiently express my grat.i.tude, for your not being angry at my long absence from your majesty's service.

The arrangements thus being made, sire, I will humbly take my leave, begging your majesty not to forget the interests of my young friend, according to your gracious promise."

"I will not forget, I will not forget," replied the King. "When do you publicly announce your return, my lord?"

"I think it would be better not, sire," replied the Earl, "till after we have notified the arrangements to the three gentlemen who retire."

The King smiled. "That can be done to-morrow, my lord," he said; "and I cannot but say, that the sooner it is done the better, for my service has already suffered."

"That disagreeable task will of course fall on my Lord Keeper," said Lord Sunbury, looking to Somers with a smile.

"I shall do it without ceremony, my lord," replied Lord Somers. "It will be a mere matter of form; and if we could have found a position suitable to my Lord Wharton, I should say that we have constructed the most harmonious administration that I have seen since the glorious Revolution."

The King's brow grew somewhat dark at the name of Lord Wharton; and the Earl of Sunbury making a sign to the Lord Keeper to avoid that topic, took his leave of the King, saying, "I think I have your majesty's permission to retire through your private apartments."

As he was opening a door, a little to the King's right hand, however, he was met by the Earl of Portland, who greeted him with a well-pleased smile, and then pa.s.sed on towards the King, of whom Lord Somers was taking leave at the same moment.

"May it please your majesty," said the Earl of Portland, as soon as the Lords Sunbury and Somers had departed, "the young gentleman whom you were once pleased to see concerning the Duke of Berwick's coming to England, is now here, together with another gentleman calling himself Green, whom your majesty also, I understand--"

"Yes, yes," said the King, "I will see him. I promised to see him."

"You told me also, sire," replied Lord Portland, "if ever this other gentleman applied, you would also see him. Mr. Wilton Brown, I mean."

"I will see him too," said the King. "I will see them together. Let them be called, Bentinck."

Lord Portland went to the door, and gave the necessary orders, and in a moment or two after, Wilton and his companion stood in the presence of the King.

As they entered, Lord Albemarle said a few words to William, in a low tone, to which William replied, "No, no, I will tell you if it be necessary.--Now, gentlemen," he said, "I understood, from the note received this morning by my Lord of Albemarle, that you requested an audience together, which as I had promised to each separately, I have given. Is your business the same or different?"

"It is the same, sire," replied Green at once. "But I will beg this young gentleman to urge what he has to say in the first place."

The King nodded his head to Wilton to proceed; adding, "I have little time this morning, and you may be brief; for if your business be what I think, it has been opened to me by a friend of yours, and you will hear more from me or him on Tuesday."

"If your majesty refers to the Duke of Shrewsbury," said Wilton, "I have not the honour of his acquaintance; but he promised, I know, to urge upon your majesty's clemency the case of the Duke of Gaveston, in regard to which I have now ventured to approach you."

"We are mistaking each other," said the King. "I thought you meant something else. What about the Duke?"

"When your majesty was last pleased to receive me," replied Wilton, "I had the honour of recounting to you how I had been employed by his grace to set free his daughter who had been carried away by Sir John Fenwick and other Jacobites. I explained to your majesty at that time that this daring act had been committed by those Jacobites in consequence of a quarrel between the Duke and Sir John Fenwick, which quarrel was occasioned by the Duke indignantly refusing to take part in the infamous conspiracy against your majesty. Since then, Sir John Fenwick has been arrested, and has charged the Duke with being a party to that conspiracy. He has done this entirely and evidently out of revenge, and as far as my testimony goes, I can distinctly show your majesty, that after his daughter was carried away, the Duke had no opportunity whatsoever of revealing what he knew of the conspiracy without endangering her safety till after the whole was discovered, for on the morning of her return to town, after being set free, the warrants against the conspirators were already issued."

"You told me all this before, I think," said the King, with somewhat of a heavy brow and impatient air. "Where is the Duke now?"

"He is in the Tower, sire," replied Wilton, "a prisoner of state, upon this charge of Sir John Fenwick's, and I am bold to approach your majesty to beseech you to take his case into consideration."

The King's brow had by this time grown very dark, and turning to Lord Portland, he said, "This is another, you see, Bentinck."

"I beseech your majesty," continued Wilton, as soon as the King paused, "I beseech you to hear my pet.i.tion, and to grant it. It is a case in which I am deeply interested. You were pleased to say that I had conducted myself well, you were pleased to promise me your gracious favour, and I beseech you now to extend it to me so far, as at my pet.i.tion to show clemency to a n.o.bleman who, perhaps, may have acted foolishly in suffering his ears to be guilty of hearing some evil designs against you, but who testified throughout the most indignant horror at the purposes of these conspirators, who has been punished severely already by the temporary loss of his child, by the most terrible anxiety about her, and by long imprisonment in the Tower, where he now lies, withering under a sense of your majesty's displeasure. Let me entreat your majesty to grant me this pet.i.tion,"

and advancing a step, Wilton knelt at the King's feet.

"Why, I thought, young gentleman," replied William, "that before this time you were married to the pretty heiress."

"Oh no, sire," replied Wilton, with a sad smile, "that is entirely out of the question. Such a report got abroad in the world, but I have neither station, fortune, rank, nor any other advantage to ent.i.tle me to such a hope."

"And you, Colonel," said the King, turning towards Green, "is this the object of your coming also?"

"It is, sire," answered Green, advancing. "But first of all permit me to do an act that I have never done before, and kissing your majesty's hand, to acknowledge that I feel you are and will be King of England. May I add more, that you are worthy of being so."

The King was evidently pleased and struck. "I am glad to see," he answered, holding out his hand to Green, "that we have reclaimed one Jacobite."

"Sire," answered Green, kissing the King's hand, but without rising, "my affections are not easily changed, and may remain with another house; but it were folly to deny any longer your sovereignty, and,"

he added, the moment after, "it would be treachery henceforth to do anything against it.--And now, sire," he continued, "let me urge most earnestly this young gentleman's pet.i.tion, and let it be at my suit that the Duke's liberation is granted. Wilton here may have many pet.i.tions yet to present to your majesty on his own account. I shall never have any; and as your majesty told me to claim a boon at your hands, and promised to grant me anything that was not unreasonable, I beseech you to grant me, as not an unreasonable request, the full pardon and liberation of a man who this young gentleman, and I, and Sir John Fenwick, and I think your majesty too, well know would as soon have attempted anything against your majesty's life as he would have sacrificed his own. This is the boon I crave, this is the pet.i.tion I have to present, and I hope and trust that you will grant my request."