The storm was broken before we could set out, and the ride so far as
Hoddesdon was such as I shall never forget; for the wind was violent
against us; and it was pitchy dark before we came even to Puckeridge;
the thunder was as if great guns were shot off, or bags of marbles
dashed on an oak floor overhead; and the countryside was as light as day
under the flashes, so that we could see the trees and their shadows,
and, I think, sometimes the green colour of them too. We wore, all three
of us--the courier, I and my man James--horse-men's cloaks, but these
were saturated within half an hour. We had no fear of highwaymen, even
had we not been armed, for the artillery of heaven had long ago driven
all other within doors.
The hardest part of the journey was that I knew, no more than the
dead--indeed not so much--why it was that Mr. Chiffinch had sent for me.
He had said nothing in his letter, save that His Majesty wished my
presence at once; and on the outside of the letter was written the word
"Haste," three times over. I thought of a hundred matters that it might
be, but none of them satisfied me.
It is near forty miles from Hare Street to Whitehall; but so bad was the
way that, though we changed horses at Waltham Cross--at the _Four
Swans_--we did not come to London until eight o'clock in the morning;
and it was half-past eight before we rode up to Whitehall. The last part
of the journey was pretty pleasant, for the rain held off; and it was
strange to see the white hard light of the clouded dawn upon the fields
and the trees. But by the time we came to London it was long ago broad
day--by three or four hours at the least; and all the folks were abroad
in the streets.
I went straight to Mr. Chiffinch's lodgings, sending my man to the
lodging in Covent Garden, to bestow the horses and to come again to the
guard-house to await my orders. Mr. Chiffinch was not within, for he
had not expected me so early, a servant told me; but he had looked for
my coming about eleven or twelve o'clock, and had given orders that I
was to be taken to a closet to change my clothes if I needed it. This I
did; and then was set down to break my fast; and while I was at it, Mr.
Chiffinch himself came in.
He told me that I had done very well to come so swiftly; but he smiled a
little as he said it.
"His Majesty is closeted with one or two more until ten o'clock. I will
send to let him know you are come."
I did not ask him for what business I had been sent for; since he did
not choose to tell me himself; and he went out again. But he was
presently back once more; and told me that His Majesty would see me at
once.
My mind was all perturbed as I went with him in the rain across the
passages: I felt as if some great evil threatened, but I could make no
conjecture as to what it was about; or how it could be anything that was
at once so sudden and that demanded my presence. We went straight up the
stairs, and across the same ante-room; and Mr. Chiffinch flung open the
door of the same little closet where I had spoken with the King,
speaking my name as he did so.
His Majesty was sitting in the very same place where he sat before, with
his chair wheeled about, so that he faced three men. One of them I knew
at once, for my cousin had pointed him out to me in the park--my Lord
Danby, who was Lord Treasurer at this time--and he was sitting at the
end of the great table, nearest to the King: on the other side of the
table, nearer to me as I entered, were two men, upon whom I had never
set eyes before--one of them, a little man in the dress of an apothecary
or attorney; and the other a foolish-looking minister in his cassock and
bands. All four turned their eyes upon me as I came in, and then the two
who were standing, turned them back again towards His Majesty. There was
a heap of papers on the table below my Lord Danby's hand.
His Majesty made a little inclination of his head to me, but said
nothing, putting out his hand; and when I had kissed it, and stood back
with the other two, he continued speaking as if I were not there. His
face had a look, as if he were a little _ennuyé_, and yet a little merry
too.
"Continue, my Lord," he said.
"Now, doctor," said my Lord, in a patient kind of voice as if he
encouraged the other, "you tell us that all these papers were thrust
under your door. By whom were they thrust, do you think?"
"My Lord, I have my suspicions," said the minister; "but I do not know."
"Can you verify these suspicions of yours, do you think?"
"My Lord, I can try."
"And under how many heads are they ranged?" asked the King, drawling a
little in his speech.
"Sir; they are under forty-three heads."
The King rolled his eyes, as if in a droll kind of despair; but he said
nothing.
"And you tell me--" began my Lord; but His Majesty broke in:
"_Mon Dieu_!" he said; "and here is good Mr. Mallock, come here
hot-foot, and knows not a word of the proceedings. Mr. Mallock, these
good gentlemen--Doctor Tonge, a very worthy divine and a physician of
the soul, and Mr. Kirby, a very worthy chymist, and a physician of the
body--are come to tell me of a plot against my life on the part of some
of my faithful lieges, whereby they would thrust me swiftly down to
hell--body and soul together. So that, I take it is why God Almighty
hath raised up these physicians to save me. I wish you to hear their
evidence. That is why I sent for you. Continue, my Lord."
My Lord looked a little displeased, pursing up his mouth, at the manner
in which the King told the tale; but he said nothing on that point.
"Grove and Pickering, then, it appears, were to shoot His Majesty; and
Wakeman to poison him--"
("They will take no risks you see, Mr. Mallock," put in the King.)
"Yes, my Lord," said Tonge. "They were to have screwed pistols, with
silver bullets, champed, that the wounds may not heal."
("Prudent! prudent!" cried the King.)
Then my Lord Danby lost his patience; and pushed the papers together
with a sweep of his arm.
"Sir," he said, "I think we may let these worthy gentlemen go for the
present, until the papers are examined."
"With all my heart," said the King. "But not Mr. Mallock. I wish to
speak privately with Mr. Mallock."
So the two were dismissed; but I noticed that the King did not give them
his hand to kiss. They appeared to me a pair of silly folks, rather than
wicked as others thought them afterwards, who themselves partly
believed, at any rate, the foolish tale that they told. Mr. Kirby was a
little man, as I have said, with a sparrow-like kind of air; and Doctor
Tonge had no great distinction of any kind, except his look of
foolishness.
When they were gone, my Lord Danby turned to the King, with a kind of
indignation.
"Your Majesty may be pleased to make a mock of it all; but your loving
subjects cannot. I have permission then to examine these papers, and
report to Your Majesty?"
"Why, yes," said the King, "so you do not inflict the forty-three heads
upon me. I have one of my own which I must care for."
My Lord said no more; he gathered his papers without a word, saluted the
King at a distance, still without speaking, and went out, giving me a
sharp glance as he went.
"Now, Mr. Mallock," said His Majesty, "sit you down and listen to me."
I sat down; but I was all bewildered as to why I had been sent for. What
had I to do with such affairs as these?
"Do you know of a man called Grove?" the King asked me suddenly.
Now the name had meant nothing to me when I had heard it just now; but
when it was put to me in this way I remembered. I was about to speak,
when he spoke again.
"Or Pickering?" he said.
"Sir; a man called Grove is known to me; but no Pickering."
"Ha! then there is a man called Grove--if it be the same. He is a
Papist?"
"Sir, he is a lay-brother of the Society of Jesus, and dwells--"
The King held up his hand.
"I wish to know nothing more than I am obliged. Pickering is some sort
of Religious, too, they tell me. And what kind of a man is Grove?"
"He is a modest kind of man, Sir. He opened the door to me, and I saw
him a-laying of the table for dinner. I know no more of him than that."
Then the King drew himself up in his chair suddenly, as I had seen him
do before, and his mocking manner left him. It was as if another man sat
there.
"Mr. Mallock," he said, shaking his finger at me with great solemnity,
"listen to me. I had thought for a long time that an attempt would be
made against the Catholics. There is a great deal of feeling in the
country, now that my brother is one of them, and I myself am known not
to be disinclined towards them. And I make no doubt at all that this is
such an attempt. They have begun with the Jesuits; for that will be the
most popular cry; and they have added in Sir George Wakeman's name, Her
Majesty's physician, to give colour to it all. By and by they will add
other names; (you will see if it be not so), until not a Jesuit, and
scarce a Catholic is left who is not embroiled in it. I do not know who
is behind this matter; it may be my Lord Danby himself, or Shaftesbury,
or a score of others. Or it may be some discontented fellow who will
make his fortune over it; for all know that such a cry as this will be a
popular one. But this I know for a verity--that there is not one word of
truth in the tale from beginning to end; and it will appear so
presently, no doubt. Yet meanwhile a great deal of mischief may be done;
and my brother, may be, and even Her Majesty, may suffer for it, if we
are not very prudent. Now, Mr. Mallock, I sent for you, for I did not
know who else to send for. You are not known in England, or scarcely:
you come commended to me by the Holy Father himself; you are neither
priest nor Jesuit. What, then, you must do for me is this. First, you
must speak not one word of the matter to any living soul--not even your
confessor; for if we can quash the whole matter privately, so much the
better. I had you in just now, that Danby and the others might see that
you had my confidence; but I said nothing of who you were nor where you
came from; and, if they inquire, they will know nothing but that you
come commended by the ambassadors. Very well then; you must go about
freely amongst the Jesuits, and rake together any evidence that you can
that may be of use to them if the affair should ever be made public; and
yet they must know nothing of the reason--I lay that upon you. And you
must mix freely in taverns and coffee-houses, especially among the
smaller gentry, and hear what you can--as to whether the plot hath yet
leaked out--(for it is no less)--and what they think of it; and if not,
what it is that they say of the Catholics. You understand me, Mr.
Mallock?"
I said, Yes: but my heart had grown sick during the King's speech to me;
for all that I had ever thought in Rome, of England, seemed on the point
of fulfilment. His Majesty too had spoken with an extraordinary
vehemence, that was like a fire for heat. But I must have commanded my
countenance well; for he commended me on my behaviour.
"Your manner is excellent, Mr. Mallock," he said, "both just now and a
few minutes ago. You take it very well. And I have your word upon it
that you will observe secrecy?"
"My word on it, Sir," I said.
Then His Majesty leaned back again and relaxed a little.
"That is very well," he said; "and I think I have chosen my man well.
You need not fear, Mr. Mallock, that any harm will come to the good
Fathers, or to Grove or Pickering either. They cannot lay a finger upon
them without my consent; and that they shall never have. It is to
prevent rather the scandal of the whole matter that I am anxious; and
to save the Queen and my brother from any trouble. You do not know yet,
I think, all the feeling that there is upon the Catholics."
I said nothing: it was my business to listen rather, and indeed what His
Majesty said next was worth hearing.
"There be three kinds of religion in my realm," he said. "The
Presbyterian and Independent and that kind--for I count those all one;
and that is no religion for a gentleman. And there is the Church of
England, of which I am the head, which numbers many gentlemen, but is no
religion for a Christian; and there is the Catholic, which is the only
religion (so far as I am acquainted with any), suited for both gentlemen
and Christians. That is my view of the matter, Mr. Mallock."
The merry look was back in his eyes, melancholy though they always were,
as he said this. For myself, it was on the tip of my tongue to ask His
Majesty why, if he thought so, he did not act upon it. But I did not,
thinking it too bold on so short an acquaintance; and I think I was
right in that; for he put it immediately into words himself.
"I know what you are thinking, Mr. Mallock. Well; I am not yet a good
enough Christian for that."
I knew very well what His Majesty meant when he said that: he was
thinking of his women to whom as yet he could not say good-bye; and the
compassion surged up in me again at the thought that a man so noble as
this, and who knew so much (as his speeches had shewed me), could be so
ignoble too--so tied and bound by his sins; and it affected me so
much--here in his presence that had so strange a fascination in it--that
it was as if a hand had squeezed my throat, so that I could not speak,
even if I would.
"Well, sir," he said, "I must thank you for coming so quickly when I
sent for you. Mr. Chiffinch knows why you are come; but no one else; and
even to him you must not say one word. You will do well and discreetly;
of that I am sure. I will send for you again presently; and you may come
to me when you will."
He gave me his hand to kiss; and I went out, promising that no pains
should be spared.
* * * * *
It was indeed a difficult task that His Majesty had laid upon me. I was
to speak freely to the priests, yet not freely; and how to collect the
evidence that was required I knew not; since I knew nothing at all of
when the conspiring was said to be done, nor what would be of avail to
protect them; and all the way to my lodgings with my man James, I was
thinking of what was best to do. My man had ordered that all things
should be ready for my entertainment, and I found the rooms prepared,
and the beds laid; and the first thing I did after dinner was to go to
bed, after I had written to my Cousin Tom at Hare Street, and sleep
until the evening.
* * * * *
When I was dressed and had had supper in the coffee-house, listening as
well as I could to the talk, but hearing nothing pertinent, I went back
again to Drury Lane, to Mr. Fenwick's lodging, to lay the foundation of
my plan. For I had determined, between sleeping and waking, that the
best thing to be done, was to shew myself as forward and friendly as I
could, so that I might mix with the Fathers freely, in the hope that I
might light on something; and it so fell out, that although my small
adventures that evening had no use in them in the event, yet they were
strangely relevant to what took place afterwards.
The first small adventure was as follows:
I was walking swiftly up Drury Lane, scanning the houses, for it was
falling dark, and the oil-lights that burned, one before every tenth
house, cast but a poor illumination, when just beyond one of the lights
I knocked against a fellow who was coming out suddenly from a little
passage at the side, just, as it chanced, opposite to Mr. Fenwick's
house. I turned, to beg his pardon, for it was more my fault than his,
that we had come together; and I set my eyes upon the most strange and
villainous face that I have ever seen. The fellow was dressed in a dark
suit, and wore a crowned hat, and carried a club in his hand, and he
appeared to be one of the vagrom-men as they are called, who are at the
bottom of all riots and such like things. He was a smallish man in his
height, but his face was the strangest thing about him; and in the light
from the lamp I thought at first that he had some kind of deformity in
it. For his mouth was, as it were in the very midst of his face; there
was a little forehead above, with eyes set close beneath it, and a
little nose, and then his mouth, turned up at the corners as if he
smiled, and beneath that a vast chin, as large as the rest of his face.
He cried out "Lard!" as I ran against him; by which I understood him to
say "Lord!"
I asked his pardon.
"O Lard!" he said again, "'tis nothing, sir. My apologies to you, sir."
I bowed to him civilly again, and passed on; but as I knocked upon Mr.
Fenwick's door, I saw that he was staring after me, from the entrance to
that same passage from which he had come.
* * * * *
My second adventure was that, upon coming upstairs, I found that in the
chamber with Mr. Fenwick were the mother and sister of Mr. Ireland,
waiting for him to come and take them back to their lodging. They were
quiet folks enough--a little shy, it appeared to me, of strange company.
But I did my best to be civil, and they grew more talkative. Mrs.
Ireland would be near sixty years old, I would take it, dressed in a
brown sac, such as had been fashionable ten years back, and her
daughter, I should think about thirty years old. They told me that they
had been to supper, and to the play in the Duke's Playhouse, where Mr.
Shirley's tragi-comedy _The Young Admiral_ had been done; and that Mr.
Ireland was to come for them here, as presently he did, for it was
scarce safe for ladies to be abroad at such an hour in the streets
without an escort, so wild were the pranks played (and worse than
pranks), by even the King's gentlemen themselves, as well as by the
riff-raff.
We sat and talked a good while; and Mr. Grove brought chocolate up for
the ladies. But for myself, I had such a variety of thoughts, as I
talked with them all, knowing what I did, and they knowing nothing, that
I could scarce command my voice and manner sometimes. For here were
these innocent folk--with Mr. Grove smiling upon them with the
chocolate--talking of the play and what-not, and of which of the actors
pleased them and which did not--and I noticed that the ladies, as
always, were very severe upon the women--and the good fathers, too,
pleased that they were pleased, and rallying them upon their
gaiety--(for it appeared that these ladies did not go often into
company); and here sat I, with my secret upon my heart, knowing--or
guessing at least--that a plot was afoot to ruin them all and turn their
merriment into mourning.
But I think that I acquitted myself pretty well; and that none guessed
that anything was amiss with me; for I spoke of the plays I had seen in
Rome, before that I was a novice, and of the singers that I heard there;
and I listened, too, to their own speeches, gathering this and that, of
what they did and where they went, if by chance I might gather something
to their own advantage thereafter.
It was pretty to see, too, how courteous and gallant Mr. Ireland was
with his mother and sister; and how he put their cloaks about them at
the door, and feigned that he was a constable to carry them off to
prison--(at which my heart failed me again)--for frequenting the company
of suspected persons; and how he gave an arm to each of them, as they
set off into the dark.
* * * * *
That night too, as I lay abed, I thought much of all this again. I had
established a great friendliness with the Fathers by now, telling them I
was come up again to London, as Mr. Whitbread had recommended me, until
the Court should go again to Windsor, and that perhaps I should go with
it thither. They had told me at that, that one of their Fathers was
there, named Mr. Bedingfeld (who was of the Oxburgh family, I think),
and that he was confessor to the Duke of York, and that they would
recommend me to him if I should go. But all through my anxiety I
comforted myself with the assurance the King had given to me, that,
whatever else might ensue, not a hair of their heads should be touched,
for I had great confidence in His Majesty's word, given so solemnly.