The White Gauntlet Part 45

Three or four of the speakers appeared to be regarded above the rest; and when one or other of these stood up, an air of silent respect pervaded the a.s.sembly.

Scarthe had no personal knowledge of these distinguished individuals.

He little suspected, when that man of n.o.ble mien rose up--he for whom the hum of conversation became suddenly hushed--and upon whom every eye was turned with a regard that seemed that of a brotherly affection-- little suspected the sneaking spy of a Court, that he was listening to the most disinterested patriot England has ever produced--that glorious hero of the Chilterns--John Hampden.

As little knew he that in the speaker who followed--a man of mature age, and perhaps of more eloquent tongue--he beheld the future accuser of Stafford,--the bold prosecutor who successfully brought this notorious renegade to the block.

Neither did Scarthe recognise in that young but grave gentleman, who spoke so enthusiastically in favour of a nonconformist religion, the self-denying n.o.bleman, Sir Harry Vane; nor in him who had a quick answer for every opponent, and a jest for every occasion, the _elegant_, whose appearance of superficial dandyism concealed a heart truly devoted to the interests of English liberty--Harry Martin of Berks.

From his concealment Scarthe saw all these n.o.ble and heroic men, without identifying them. He cared not for one or the other--what they did, or what they said. His eye was set, and his ear bent, to see one who had not yet presented himself--to hear one who had not yet spoken.

The host of the house--he who had summoned these guests together--was the man whom Scarthe desired to see and hear. Though the Royalist spy felt satisfied, that what had pa.s.sed already would be proof sufficient against Holtspur, he wanted one speech from his own mouth--one word that would more surely convict him.

He was not disappointed. In that congregation Henry Holtspur was not expected to be silent. Though regarded more in the light of an actor than an orator, there were those who waited to hear him with that silent eagerness that tells of a truer appreciation, than the mere ebullition of a noisy enthusiasm. As the host of the house he had hitherto modestly remained in the background, until forced to take his turn; and his turn at length came.

In a speech which occupied more than an hour, Pym had set before the a.s.sembly a full list of the grievances under which the nation groaned--a sort of epitome of the famous oration that afterwards ushered in the attainder of Stafford. Its effect upon all, was to strengthen them in the determination to oppose--with greater energy than ever--the usurpations of the Court; and many of the gentlemen present declared their willingness to make any sacrifice, either personal or pecuniary, rather than longer submit to the illegal exactions of the monarch.

"Why," said Holtspur, rising to his feet and standing conspicuously before his guests, "why should we continue to talk in enigmas? I, for one, am tired of keeping up this pretence of hostility towards the subordinates, whilst the real enemy is allowed to escape all accusations of criminality. It is not Stafford, nor Laud, nor Finch, nor Mainwaring, nor Windebank, who are the oppressors of the people. These are but the tools of the tyrant. Destroy them to-day, and to-morrow others will be found to supply their place--as fitting and truculent as they. To what end, then, are our protests and prosecutions? The hydra of despotism can only be crushed _by, depriving it of its head_. The poisonous tree of evil is not to be destroyed, by here and there lopping off a branch. It can be rendered innoxious only by striking at its roots!

"Some gentlemen here seem to think, that, by surrounding the king with good counsellors, we may succeed in bringing him to rule with justice.

But good counsellors, under the influence of an unscrupulous Court, may any day change their character; and then the work will have to be done over again. Look at Stafford himself! Ten years ago, had we met as we meet to-night, Thomas Wentworth would have been with us--foremost in our councils--See the baneful effects of Royal favour! It will ever be so-- as long as men set up an idol, call it a king, and fall down upon their faces to worship it!

"For my own part I scorn to palter with words. I see but one criminal worthy our accusations; and he is neither councillor, nor secretary, nor bishop; but the master of all three. In my mind, gentlemen, it is no longer a question of whether we are to be ruled by a good king, or a bad king; _but whether we are to have a king at all_!"

"_My_ sentiments!" cried Henry Martin, and several others of the younger and bolder spirits; while a general murmur of approbation was heard throughout the room.

These were wild words--even within that secret a.s.semblage. The question of _king or no king_, had begun to shape itself in the minds of a few men; but this was the first time it had risen to the lips of any one.

It was the first _spoken_ summons invoking the dark shadow that hovered over the head of Charles Stuart, until his neck lay bleeding on the block!

"Enough!" gasped out Scarthe, in an almost inaudible whisper, as he recovered his long suspended breath, "enough for _my_ purpose. You heard it, Stubbs?"

"I did, by Ged!" replied the subordinate spy, taking care to imitate his superior in the low tone in which he made answer.

"We may go now," said Scarthe. "There's nothing more to be seen or done--at least nothing I need care for. Ha! who's speaking now? That voice? Surely I've heard it before?"

As he said this, he placed his eye once more to the disc of cleared gla.s.s.

Suddenly drawing himself back, and clutching his a.s.sociate by the arm, he muttered:

"Who do you think is there?"

"Can't guess, captain."

"Listen, then!" and, placing his lips close to the ear of his companion, he whispered in slow syllables, "Sir Mar-ma-duke Wade."

"Do you say so?"

"Look for yourself: look and listen! Do both well: for the words you hear, _may yet win you your sweetheart_."

"How, captain?"

"Don't question me now," hurriedly replied the latter, at the same time returning to his att.i.tude of attention.

It was in truth Sir Marmaduke Wade, who was addressing the a.s.sembly.

But his speech was a _very_ short one: for the worthy knight was no orator; and it was nearly finished by the time Scarthe and the cornet had succeeded in placing themselves in a position to have heard him.

Enough reached the ears of the former to give him all that he required for a fell purpose; which even at that moment had commenced taking shape in his diabolical brain.

In the few words that dropped from the lips of his host, Scarthe could discover sufficient evidence of disloyalty. Indeed, the presence of Sir Marmaduke in that place--coupled with, perhaps, something more than suspicion which the king already entertained towards him--would be proof enough to satisfy the Star Chamber.

"We may go now," whispered Scarthe, stealing towards the door, and drawing his subaltern gently after him. "Softly, cornet!" continued he, as hand-in-hand they retraced the dark pa.s.sage. "Those boots of yours creak like a ship in a swell! Fancy you are treading on eggs!"

As he made this facetious remark, they emerged into the open air; and, whispering mutual congratulations, went skulking onward, like a brace of felons making their escape from the confinement of a prison.

"If this fellow," said Scarthe, "can only succeed in extricating our horses, I think we may flatter ourselves, that we have made a successful job of it. Come on."

And Scarthe led the way along the wall, towards the front of the dwelling.

They proceeded with as much caution as ever. Though outside, they were not yet safe from having their presence discovered, and their purpose suspected. The sky was clearer than when they had last looked upon it: for the thunderstorm, now over, had scattered the clouds, and deluged the earth with rain.

At the angle of the building they could make out the figure of a man, standing under the shadow of a tree. It was Walford. On seeing them, he stepped forth, and advanced to meet them.

"Theer be n.o.body by the front door," he muttered, when near enough to be heard. "Stay by the steps, but don't show yer faces. I'll ha' the horses round in a twinkle."

Saying this, the traitor left them, and disappeared in the direction of the stables.

Obedient to his instructions, they took their stand; and, still conversing in whispers, awaited his return.

True to his promise almost in an instant the two horses were brought round--one led by himself, the other by Dancey.

The latter was too much occupied by the gold piece, glistening within his palm, to think of scrutinising the countenance of the giver.

"Odds luck, Wull!" said he, turning to his comrade, after the two hors.e.m.e.n had ridden off; "stable keepin' appear to be a better bisness than windin' the woodaxe! If they be all as liberal as these 'uns we shall ha' a profitable night o't."

Walford a.s.sented with a shrug of his shoulders, and a significant grin-- which in the darkness was not noticed by the unsuspicious deer-stealer.

Just then, Gregory Garth coming up armed with a tankard of ale--perhaps surrept.i.tiously drawn from the cellar--interrupted the conversation, or rather changed it into a different channel: for it was still carried on to the accompaniment of a copious imbibing of the homebrew.

Volume Two, Chapter XI.

The two spies moved silently away--neither speaking above his breath, till they had regained the road, outside the gates of Stone Dean, then, no longer fearing to be overheard, they talked in louder tone.

"What a grand _coup_ it would be!" observed Scarthe, partly in soliloquy, and partly addressing himself to his companion.

"What, captain?" inquired Stubbs.

"To capture this whole nest of conspirators."

"It would, by Ged!"