What was preparing, or what my lord intended by conduct so
extraordinary I had no time to consider. For though I got Cassel into
the hall again undetected--which was of itself a marvel--when it came
to taking the key from the lock my hand shook so violently with fear
and excitement that the first attempt failed. Before I had succeeded
the steward bustled up through the crowd, and seeing what I was about,
bade me desist with some roughness.
"Do you want an escape that way?" said he, bursting with importance.
"Leave it to me. Here, hands off, man." And he drew me into the hall
and locked the door.
So there I was, fixed as it were in the girl's empty place, with
Cassel grinning at me on one side and the steward grumbling on the
other, and the crowd so thick about us that it was impossible for me
to budge an inch. It amazed me that the girl's absence had not yet
been noticed, but I knew that in no short time it must be, and my
misery was in proportion. Presently "Hallo," cried the steward,
peeping first on one side of me and then on the other. "Where is that
slut that was here?"
"In with your master," said Cassel coolly.
"But Charnock is with him."
"Well, I suppose he can have two at a time if he pleases, Mr.
Pudding-head! Thousand devils! Are we going to be kept in this crowd
all night?"
The steward sniffed his indignation, but the answer satisfied him for
the time; and the messengers and tipstaves being engaged at the
farther end of the hall in shepherding their prisoners on the side of
the house-door, and being crowded upon besides by gentlemen whom they
feared to offend, had no notion of what had happened or that their
tale was not complete. Someone had lowered and lighted a round
lanthorn that hung in the middle of the hall; but the light hanging
low, and being intercepted by the heads of those before us, barely
reached the corner in which I stood. Still I knew that this was but a
respite, and my relief and joy were great, when a cry of "Price!
Price!" was raised, and "Price! Who is he? His Grace wants Price!"
passing from lip to lip, the steward thrust me forward, and called to
the nearest to make a way for me; and this being done I was speedily
passed through the crowd to a door at the farther side of the hall,
where two servants who stood on guard there, having satisfied
themselves that I was the man, I was admitted.
I knew that I was not yet out of the wood. Moreover I had cause to
doubt how I now stood in the Duke's favour, or what might be his
intentions towards me. But at least I had escaped from the hall and
from the steward whom I had begun to regard with a mixture of fear and
hatred; and I prepared to face the ordeal before me with a courage
that now seems astonishing. However, for the moment my courage was not
to be proved. The room in which I found myself was large and lofty,
lined for the most part with books, and adorned with marble busts,
that gleamed ghostly in the obscured corners, or stood out bright and
white where the radiance of the candles fell on them. In the middle of
the rich dark carpet that covered the floor stood a table, furnished
with papers, pens, and books; and this, with three inquisitorial
chairs, set along the farther side of it, had a formidable air. But
the three persons for whose accommodation the chairs had been placed,
were now on their feet, standing in a group before the hearth, and so
deeply engrossed in the subject under discussion that, if they were
aware of my entrance, they took no notice of it.
The Earl of Marlborough, the more handsome and courtly of the two
noblemen whom I had seen pass through the hall, a man even then of a
great and splendid presence and address, though not what he afterwards
became, was speaking, when finding myself unheeded, I gathered my wits
to listen. "I have no right to give advice, your Grace," he was saying
in suave and courtly accents, "But I think you will be ill-advised if
you pay much attention to what these rogues allege, or make it
public."
"No man will be safe!" urged his companion, with, it seemed to me, a
note of anxiety in his voice.
"Better hang them out of hand," responded the Earl blandly. And he
took snuff and delicately dusted his upper lip.
"Yet I do not know," answered the Duke, who stood between the two with
his eyes on the fire, and his back towards me. "If we go too fast,
people may say, my lord, that we fear what they might disclose."
The Earl laughed blandly. "You had little gain by Preston," said he,
"and you kept him long enough."
"My Lord Devonshire is anxious to go into the matter thoroughly."
"Doubtless he has his reasons," Lord Marlborough answered, shrugging
his shoulders. "The question is--whether your Grace has the same."
"I know none why we should _not_ go into it," the Duke answered in
measured tones which showed pretty clearly that in spite of his
good-nature he was not to be led blindfold. "They can have nothing to
say that will reflect on me. And I am sure," he continued, slightly
inclining his head in courteous fashion, "that the same may be said of
Lord Marlborough."
"_Cela va sans dire!_" answered the Earl in a voice so unconstrained
and with a gesture so proud and easy that if he lied--as some have
been found ready to assert--he showed a mastery of that art alike
amazing and incredible. "And of Lord Godolphin also."
"By God, yes!" that peer exclaimed, in such a hurry to assent that his
words tumbled over one another.
"Just so. I say so, my lord," the Earl repeated with a faint ring of
scorn in his tone, while Lord Godolphin wiped his forehead. "But
innocence is no shield against calumny, and if these rogues can
prolong their lives by a lie, do you think that they will not tell
one? Or even ten?"
"Ay, by God, will they!" cried Godolphin. "Or twenty. I'll lay thee
long odds to that."
My lord bowed and admitted that it was possible.
"So possible," Lord Marlborough continued, lightly and pleasantly,
"that it is not long since your Grace, unless I am mistaken, suffered
after that very fashion. I have no mind to probe your secrets,
Duke--God forbid! I leave such tasks to my Lord Portland! But, unless
I am in error, when you last left office advantage was taken of
some"--he paused, and then with an easy motion of his white
hands--"some trifling indiscretion. It was exaggerated and increased
tenfold, and placed in a light so false that"--he paused again to take
a pinch of snuff from his box--"that for a time even the King was
induced to believe--that my Lord Shrewsbury was corresponding with
France. Most amusing!"
The Duke did not answer for a moment; then in a voice that shook a
little, "It is an age of false witnesses," he said.
"Precisely," Lord Marlborough answered, shrugging his shoulders with
charming _bonhomie_. "That is what I say. They do not greatly hurt you
or me. We have clear consciences and clean hands; and can defy these
ruffians. But the party must be considered."
"There is something in that," said the Duke, nodding and speaking in
his natural tone.
"And smaller men, as innocent, but more vulnerable--they too should be
considered."
"True," said Lord Godolphin, nodding. "True, by God."
The Duke assented thoughtfully. "I will bear it in mind," he said. "I
think it is a questionable policy."
"In any event I am sure that your Grace's prudence will steer the
matter to a safe issue," Lord Marlborough answered in his courtliest
fashion. "I thank Heaven that you are here in this emergency, and not
Portland or Auverquerque, who see a foe to the King in every
Englishman."
"I should be sorry to see any but an Englishman in the Secretary's
office," the Duke said, with a little heat.
"And yet that is what we have to expect," Lord Marlborough answered
placidly. "But we are detaining your Grace. Come, my lord, we must be
going. I suppose that Sir John is not taken?"
"Sir John Fenwick?"
"Yes."
"It has not been reported."
With that the two noblemen took a formal farewell, and the Duke
begging them to go out by his private door that they might avoid the
press in the hall, they were crossing the room in that direction, when
a sudden hubbub arose outside and a cry of alarm, and before they had
more than raised their eyebrows, asking one another politely what it
meant, the door beside which I stood was opened, and a gentleman came
in. He looked with a flustered face at the Duke. "Your Grace's
pardon," he said hurriedly. "One of the prisoners has escaped!"
"Escaped!" said the Duke. "How?"
"The woman has somehow slipped away. Through the crowd it is believed,
your Grace. The messenger----"
But at that moment the unfortunate official himself appeared in the
doorway, looking scared out of his life, "What is this?" said the Duke
sharply.
The man whimpered. "'Fore God it is not my fault," he cried. "She
never passed through the door! May I die if she did, your Grace."
"She may be still in the hall?"
"We have searched it through and through!" the man answered
desperately. "It remains only to search the house, your Grace--with
your permission."
"What!" the Duke cried, really or apparently startled. "Why the
house?"
"She must have slipped into the house, for she never went out!" the
man answered doggedly. "She never went out!"
The Duke shrugged his shoulders and turned to Lord Marlborough. "What
do you think?" said he.
The Earl raised his eyebrows. By this time half the concourse in the
hall had pressed to the doorway, and were staring into the room. "Call
Martin," said the Duke. "And stand back there a little, if you
please," he continued haughtily. "This is no public court, but my
house, good people."
It seemed to me--but I, behind the door, was in a boundless
fright--that the steward would never come. He did come at last, and
pushing his way through the crowd, presented himself with a bustling
confidence that failed to hide his apprehensions. Nor was the Duke's
reception of him calculated to set him at his ease.
"Stand out, man!" he said harshly, and with a nearer approach to the
tyrannical than I had hitherto seen in a man, who was perhaps the
best-natured of his species. "Stand out and answer me, and no
evasions. Did I not give you an order of the strictest character, to
lock the inner door and leave it for nothing, and no one--while this
business was forward?"
Martin gasped. "May it please your Grace," he said, "I----"
"Answer, fool, what I ask," the Duke cried, cutting him short with the
utmost asperity. "Did I not give you those orders?"
The man was astonished, and utterly terrified. "Yes," he said. "It is
true, your Grace."
"And did you obey them?"
Poor Martin, seeing that all the trouble was like to rest on his back,
answered as in all probability the Duke expected. "I did, your Grace,"
he said roundly. "I have not been an arm's length from the door, nor
has it been unlocked. I have the key here," he continued, producing it
and holding it up.
"Has anyone passed through the door while you have been on guard?"
The steward had gone too far to confess the truth now, and swore
positively and repeatedly that no one had passed through the door or
could have passed through the door; that it was impossible; that the
door had been locked all the time, and the key in his possession:
finally, that if the girl had gone through the door she must have gone
through the keyhole, and was a witch. At which some present crossed
themselves.
"I am satisfied," said the Duke, addressing the messenger. "Doubtless
she slipped through the crowd. But as you are responsible and will
have to answer for the girl, I would advise you to lose no time in
searching such of Mr. Ferguson's haunts as are known to you. It is
probable that she will take refuge in one or other of them. However, I
will report the matter as favourably as I can to the council. You can
go. Lodge the others according to the warrants, and make no second
blunder. See these people out, Martin. And for you, my lords, I am
sorry that this matter has detained you."
"_La fille--ne velait pas beaucoup?_" said the Earl curiously.
"_Pas de tout!_" my lord answered, and smiling, shrugged his
shoulders. "_Rien!_"