"Oh, good sir," he gasped, dabbing with his kerchief the merry tears
from his smiling eyes, "you had better do as this lady urges, for, by
St. George! she employs the most irresistible logic."
Evander and Brilliana, blown apart, as it were, by the breath of the
King's merriment, regarded the monarch with very different feelings.
Though he stood upon the edge of peril's precipice, at the threshold
of death's temple, Evander could not scrutinize without vivid and
conflicting emotions the face of the man because of whom the solid
realm of England seemed to be dissolving into anarchy. This was the
King of ship-money, the heart's-brother of Buckingham, the betrayer
of Strafford, the doer to death of Eliot, the would-be baffler of
free speech, the baffled hunter after the five members. To Brilliana
he was simply the King, not even the whole hero and half-martyr King
for whom she had held Loyalty House so sturdily, but simply the only
man living graced with power to save the man she loved. She turned to
him at once with a petulant expression of impatience.
"Your Majesty," she sighed, "I wish you would speak to this proud
gentleman. I cannot make him listen to reason."
The almost infantile simplicity of her address stirring the King to
renewed merriment, served her cause better, in its very
inappropriateness to the situation, than the most impassioned or the
most calculated appeals to pity or to justice. The audacity with
which the Loyalty lady coolly enlisted the King as her advocate
against the King's interests seemed to the sovereign so exquisite, so
grotesque, as to merit calling irresistible.
"Truly," he said to her, smiling that sweet Stuart smile which made
all who ever shone in it adore him, "the man must be named
Felicissimus who is loved by such a lady."
Then he turned his gaze upon Evander, and the smile grew graver, the
eyes more imperious.
"So, sir," he said, "you are so certain sure of the righteousness of
your side in this quarrel that you cannot, for your life's sake, for
your love's sake, consent to stand neuter and look on, Captain
Infallibility?"
Evander faced the slightly frowning interrogation bravely. He
saluted soldierly, conscious of the subtle Stuart charm,
understanding it would conquer men and women, glad to find himself
unconquered.
"Your Majesty," he said, "let me answer you as I answered this dear
lady. If one of those gentlemen, those Cavaliers who rallied to your
flag at Nottingham and drew their swords for you at Edgehill, were
made prisoner of the Parliament, and accepted his life on the
condition that he stood aside and left you to fight without his aid,
would you count him a loyal subject, would you call him a faithful
friend, could you admit that he was an honest soldier?"
Charles looked at Evander curiously. There were some of his friends,
he thought, who might not stand the trial too well. He brushed the
thought aside, for he knew that most of the Cavaliers would act as
gallantly as the young Puritan before him, and he could not but
applaud, even while he wondered at so stiff a constancy in one whom
he regarded as a rebel.
"Well, well," he said, "if this incomparable lady could not persuade
you, how could a poor King hope to succeed? We must not break this
lady's heart, sir, between us, for 'tis something of a rare jewel,
and so you shall go back to your own people, and when I win the day I
shall remember to be clement to you. Try and come out of the scuffle
alive, for the sake of your sweetheart."
The King was so winning in his grace, in his dignity, in his
tenderness, that Evander felt his heart in his mouth and he tried not
to falter in his words.
"I humbly thank your Majesty."
As for Brilliana, she fell on her knees with tears in her eyes, but
the King would not have her kneel. In his courtliest manner he lifted
her, raised her right hand to his lips and kissed it, and then
signifying to her with a gesture to go to Evander, he seated himself
at the table and wrote rapidly for some seconds, while the two lovers
stood side by side, silent in hope and joy.
When the King had finished writing he shook the powder over the paper
and let it slide back into the standish, drying the ink as it slid.
Then he turned and held the paper to Evander, who advanced and took
it kneeling.
"This safe-conduct," said Charles, "will insure you from ill
treatment or delay at the hands of any loyal subjects, in arms or
otherwise." He leaned forward and struck upon the bell. To the
soldier on guard who entered he gave order that he wished to see Sir
Rufus Quaryll immediately. When the soldier had left, he turned in
his chair a little, so as to survey Evander and Brilliana standing
before him in silence, and there was a light of mockery in his eyes.
"Young people," he said, affecting mirthfully an exhortatory manner,
"you have played the first act of your love-play. How it is to go
with you hereafter it is for all to hope, albeit for none to guess
with discretion. But in a little while this land distracted will be
calm again, and it may well be, Mr. Cloud, that I shall be glad to
see you at Whitehall."
The King's manner was mild, the King's voice benign; he was really
very well pleased with himself for his clemency, and very well
pleased with the man and woman for affording him an opportunity of
justifying his character of benevolent autocrat. He would have said
more, but at this moment the door opened and Sir Rufus entered the
room, looking as fierce and angry as he dared to look in the presence
of his royal master. He knew well enough that Brilliana's interview
with the King was likely to mean mischief to his schemes, and his
rage and hate tore at his life-strings like wild beasts.
An impish malice lurked on Charles's lips. This discomfiture of the
truculent Rufus supplied for him the comic element of his
entertainment, and came just in the nick of time to prevent its
heroics and its sentimentalities from palling.
"Sir Rufus," said the King, gravely, "we ride at once to Oxford, our
loyal, loving Oxford. Take order for this on the instant. The Lady
Brilliana resumes her command of Loyalty House, with our royal thanks
for her man's spirit and our royal sympathy for her woman's heart. As
for the stranger within our gates, we have of our clemency given him
full leave to go hence in all freedom, not without some private
supplications that Heaven may be pleased to lift a misguided
gentleman into a better way of life."
Sir Rufus opened his lips as if to speak, and then closed them again
without speaking. He knew well enough how stubborn the King could be
on occasion, and that there was no hope for him to win his game with
the King's help. He saluted the King and left the presence with fury
in his heart.
The King turned to Evander.
"Go, sir," he commanded, "and make ready for your departure, which
should follow promptly upon mine, for I do not think the atmosphere
of Oxford will be sweet breathing for gentlemen of your inclining
from this out. I give you half an hour from my riding to say your
adieus to your sweet saint here. Farewell."
Evander fell on one knee.
"Your Majesty," he pleaded, "permit me to kiss your hand." The King
smiled whimsically, yet a thought wistfully.
"You are a gentle rebel," he said, and held out his fine, white hand
for Evander's salutation. Then the young soldier rose, and with one
look of love to Brilliana, left the room. Charles stood with his
grave eyes fixed on his hostess, smiling.
"What a thing is civil war!" he sighed. "How it rips through the
pretty web of workaday life, dividing sire from son, sundering
brother from brother, parting lover from lass! But I was forced to
it--I was forced to it."
"It will end soon, sire," Brilliana suggested, tears in her eyes at
the sadness in his. The King seemed to catch at her speech.
"Ay," he agreed, more cheerily. "That's it, that's true. 'Tis but a
walk to loyal Oxford, 'tis but a march on disloyal London, and all's
done."
"London will prove loyal when your Majesty enters in triumph,"
Brilliana cried. A bright look came over the King's worn face. As in
a dream he saw himself, the rose of that triumphant entry, flowers at
his feet, flags in the air, loyalty abroad in its bravest, huzzaing
its loudest, and all grim, sour-hearted fellows safe out of sight
under lock and key. Exultantly he held out his hand for Brilliana to
salute.
"Farewell, Lady of Loyalty."
"Nay," Brilliana protested, "I must bring your Majesty to the gate.
If the fitting welcome were missing, you shall not lack the
ceremonial 'God speed you.'"
"I thank you, madam," gravely answered Charles. Brilliana dipped him
a reverence, and then, opening the door, conducted her royal guest
out of the chamber. In the corridor they found Halfman waiting to
kiss the King's hand. Charles felt for a moment for his purse, and
then swiftly and regally changing his mind, he drew a ring from his
finger.
"Wear this for me, friend," he requested, graciously, "in memory of
old days."
Halfman rose from his knees and drew himself up as if on parade.
"God save the King!" he thundered, and with that loyal music in his
ears the King followed Brilliana down the great staircase over which
the carven angels kept watch and ward. Halfman, leaning over the
rail-way, saw the pair pass through the hall, then he turned and
entered the apartment that Charles had left, and stood there, rigid
in meditation.