Sir Jocelyn was not without great uneasiness at the result of his
interview with De Gondomar. Had it been possible, he would have avoided
a rupture with so influential a personage--an event to be dreaded at any
time, but especially so at a juncture like the present, when dangers
menaced him on all sides, and the only question appeared to be, from
what side the first blow would come. His chief anxiety, however, was for
Aveline, whose position was one of such strange and imminent peril,
against which he knew not how to guard her. He was still left in the
same state of uncertainty as to who would be the claimant of her hand;
for the mysterious personage in the mask had not appeared again,
according to his promise, after the jousts. This suspense was terrible,
and Sir Jocelyn found it so difficult of endurance, that he would have
preferred the actual presence of the calamity by which he was
threatened. His fears were, that the claim he so much dreaded would be
made by Sir Giles Mompesson in person, and in that case he had
determined forcibly to resist him. And this supposition might account
for the delay--since he knew that Sir Giles was suffering severely from
the effects of the blow he had dealt him in the tilt-yard.
De Gondomar's were not idle threats, as Sir Jocelyn soon found. On the
next day, as he entered the palace, he was informed by the Lord
Chamberlain that he was deprived of his office of Gentleman of the
Bed-Chamber; and when he demanded the reason of his sudden dismissal,
the Duke of Lennox, with a shrug of the shoulders, declared he was
unable to afford him any information. But what the Duke refused was
afforded by De Gondomar, who at that moment entered the corridor, in
company with Buckingham and some other nobles, on his way to the
presence-chamber. On seeing his late _protégé_, the ambassador halted
for a moment, and with a smile of triumph said--"You owe your dismissal
to me, Sir Jocelyn. I have made some few circumstances concerning you
that had just come to my ears known to his Majesty; and as he does not
choose to have spies about his person, he has released you from all
further attendance upon him."
"In a word, he has forbidden your attendance again at the palace," added
Buckingham, who had paused likewise, with an insulting laugh.
"I must to the King, your Grace," cried Sir Jocelyn to the Lord
Chamberlain. "I will explain the falsehood of this charge to his
Majesty, and show him who is the spy and traitor he has to fear."
"You cannot pass, Sir Jocelyn," said the Duke of Lennox, placing
himself in his way, while two halberdiers advanced to bar his passage
with their partizans. "I say not a word as to the cause of your
disgrace; but I may tell you, that his Majesty is greatly offended with
you, and that it would be highly imprudent to approach him in his
present frame of mind, even were it permitted you to do so--which it is
not. As I have said, you are deprived of your office, and enjoined to
absent yourself from the palace, till it shall be his Majesty's pleasure
to recall you."
"And that is not likely to be soon the case--eh, Count?" observed
Buckingham, with a laugh.
"Not very likely indeed, Marquis," said the ambassador. "I much regret
that I have been the means of introducing so unworthy a person to his
Majesty; but I have made all the amends in my power."
"Must I tamely endure all these insults and calumnies, your Grace?"
cried Sir Jocelyn furiously.
"If you will be guided by me, you will retire," rejoined the Duke of
Lennox; "or the provocation you will receive may induce you to do some
desperate act which may render your position worse, and put your
restoration to the King's favour entirely out of the question."
While Sir Jocelyn was debating whether he should comply with the Duke's
advice, the door of the presence-chamber was thrown open; and James,
coming forth from it, marched slowly along the corridor.
Our young knight now fondly hoped that the King might deign to look
upon him, and so enable him to plead his cause; and perhaps the Lord
Chamberlain himself entertained similar expectations, for he did not
insist upon Sir Jocelyn's withdrawal, but allowed him to remain within
the corridor, though he was kept aloof by the halberdiers. But both were
disappointed. James, no doubt, designedly, bestowed his most gracious
marks of condescension on Buckingham and De Gondomar, and lingered for a
few minutes to laugh and talk with them. After this, as he was passing
Sir Jocelyn, he pretended to notice him for the first time, and
observed, in a tone of reproof to the Lord Chamberlain, "What doth the
spy here, my Lord Duke? I thought you had our orders concerning him. See
they are better obeyed in future." And, when the young knight would have
spoken, he interrupted him by an imperious gesture, crying out, "Not a
word, Sir!--not a word! We will hear naught mair frae ye. We hae heard
ower meikle already." And he passed on.
Thus was Mounchensey's disgrace accomplished by his enemies.