|One morning, at this juncture, the young earl, mounted on his favourite
dapple-grey steed, rode out from the castle, and took his way down the
chestnut avenue, accompanied by his brother, Charles Radclyffe.
The two young equestrians made a very gallant appearance, being attired
in scarlet riding-coats, edged with gold lace, feathered hats, long
neckcloth, laced ruffles, and boots ascending above the knee. The grooms
wore green riding-coats laced with gold, and green velvet caps.
The earl, who was riding to Corbridge, which was not very far off,
proceeded at a leisurely pace, and occasionally halted to examine some
object in the grounds, or listen to an appeal to his charity. In the
latter case the applicant was sent on to the castle to state his case to
Father Norham.
The morning was bright and clear, and the country looked so charming
that the earl determined to extend his ride along the banks of the
Tyne as soon as his business at Corbridge was finished; but he had
not quitted the avenue when a horseman entered it, who was evidently
proceeding to the castle.
This person might be a courier, for he rode a posthorse, and was
followed by a post-boy, who carried his portmanteau; and there was
nothing in his grey riding-dress to indicate rank. He had pistols in his
girdle, and a hanger by his side. But he rode well, though provided only
with a sorry hack, and had a military bearing. In age he could not be
more than three-and-twenty, if so much. He was rather above the
middle height, and slightly built, and his features were handsome and
expressive.
On seeing the earl and his brother the stranger immediately slackened
his pace, and rode slowly towards them.
Lord Derwentwater gazed at him in astonishment, and as if he could
scarcely believe his eyes.
At length he turned to his brother and exclaimed:
“By Heaven, 'tis he!”
“He! who?” cried Charles Radclyffe.
“The Chevalier de Saint George,” replied the earl, under his breath.
“Impossible!” said the other. “He would never come here in this manner,
and without giving us some notice of his design.”
“'Tis the prince, I repeat,” cried Derwentwater; “I cannot be mistaken.
But the greatest caution must be observed, or the postboy's suspicions
may be aroused.”
Next moment the stranger came up, and respectfully saluting the earl,
told him he was the bearer of an important despatch, whereupon Lord
Derwentwater invited him to the castle, and turning round, proceeded
in that direction, keeping the supposed courier near him, while Charles
Radclyffe, who had now recognised the stranger from his likeness to the
portraits of the prince, rode at a little distance behind them.
The meeting was so cleverly managed that the grooms saw nothing
extraordinary in it, and the post-boy was completely duped.
“I never had a harder task than to repress my delight at beholding
your majesty,” said Lord Derwentwater. “You have indeed taken me by
surprise.”
“Had it been possible I would have given you some intimation of my
arrival and intended visit to you,” replied the prince, “but I only
landed at Sunderland yesterday, and came on betimes this morning. Do not
imagine I am come to summon you to arms, though my partisans in Scotland
are ready to rise, and would at once join my standard were I to display
it. No, cousin, my errand is pacific.”
“Pacific!” exclaimed the earl.
“My purpose is to obtain an interview with my sister, Queen Anne; and
if I succeed, I believe no insurrection will be necessary, for I am
persuaded she will agree to appoint me her successor. You must accompany
me to London, cousin.”
“I will do whatever your majesty enjoins,” replied Lord Derwentwater,”
greatly astonished by what he heard. “But it is my duty to tell you that
you will run great risk, while I very much fear you will not accomplish
your object. Did you consult the queen, your mother, before setting out
on this expedition?”
“I did, cousin, and must frankly own that she endeavoured to dissuade
me from the attempt; for, as you are aware, her majesty deems Anne an
unnatural daughter, and destitute of all feeling for the brother whose
throne she has usurped. It may be so. Yet, cold as she is, Anne cannot
be insensible to the king, our father's dying message, which I propose
to deliver to her.”
“Nothing will move her, sire, depend upon it,” said the earl. “Queen
Anne is so strongly opposed to the Roman Catholic religion, that unless
your majesty will consent to change your faith she will turn a deaf ear
to your entreaties.”
“We shall see,” replied the Chevalier de Saint George. “At all events, I
shall have an answer from her own lips, and shall then know how to
act. As I have just told you, the queen, my mother, strove to combat my
determination; but, finding I was not to be shaken, she entreated me to
take you with me. To this I readily agreed, as I knew I could rely on
your devotion. I embarked at Dunquerque without a single attendant, and
in this disguise, and landed yesterday at Sunderland.”
“And right glad I am to welcome your majesty to Dilston,” said the
earl. “But let me implore you to change your plans, and instead
of supplicating Queen Anne for the crown, that of right belongs to
yourself, snatch it from her brow! Should you decide thus--and I believe
it will be for the best--I will undertake, within a week, to raise a
large force--while thousands will flock to your standard in Scotland.
Your majesty will do well to weigh my proposal ere setting out on a
hazardous expedition to London. Here you have a mansion you can call
your own--servants you can command--friends at your disposal--and in a
few days you will have an army. Be advised by me, my gracious liege, and
abandon this wild scheme. Suffer me to get together your adherents.
Let me send off messengers without delay to Lord Widdring-ton, Tom
Errington, of Beaufront, John Shaftoe, Swinbourn, Charleton, Clavering,
and others in the county, to collect all their retainers.”
“But they are unprepared,” remarked the prince.
“Pardon me, my liege. The friends I have named are always prepared, and
the news that your majesty is here would rouse them all to come at
once. I ought to have added to the list Jack Hall, of Otterburn, and Tom
Forster, of Bamborough. They are High Church Tories, and will bring many
others with them.”
“No doubt they would prove an important acquisition,” said the prince.
“But I will not try to dethrone Anne till I have given her the chance
of acting fairly towards me. I am very sanguine as to the result of my
interview with her.”
“Heaven grant your majesty may not be disappointed!” rejoined Lord
Derwentwater. “I will say no more. Whenever it shall please you to set
out to London, I shall be ready to attend you.”
“I will remain here till to-morrow, cousin,” said the prince. “On some
future occasion I hope to be your guest for a longer time; but though
Dilston is a charming place, and I should like to see all its beauties,
it must not detain me now.”
They were at the end of the avenue, but, before passing through the
gateway, Lord Derwentwater said to the prince, “Your majesty had best
dismount here, and get rid of the postboy.”
On this the prince sprang from his horse, while the gate-porter, by the
earl's directions, paid the postboy, and took the portmanteau from him.
Having received a handsome gratuity for himself, the man then departed
with his horses in tolerably good humour, though aware of the earl's
hospitality he had hoped to be regaled in the servants' hall.
“Meanwhile, Lord Derwentwater and his brother having alighted, the
party walked across the great quadrangular court--the prince pausing
occasionally to look around, and express his admiration.
“By my faith! cousin, you have a splendid house,” he cried. “'Tis quite
a palace.”
“Why not take possession of it, my liege?” replied Derwentwater.
“You tempt me greatly. But no! I must not be diverted from my purpose.”
They then ascended the magnificent flight of stone steps, and entered a
spacious hall--the door being thrown open by a butler and several other
servants in the earl's rich livery.
“Little did I dream, when I set forth an hour ago, whom I should bring
back as my guest,” observed Lord Derwentwater.
“You have often told me at Saint Germains how rejoiced you would be to
see me here,” rejoined the prince; “and now you perceive I have taken
you at your word. But you are very remiss, cousin--pray present your
brother to me!”
The presentation then took place, but without any ceremony, on account
of the servants, and the prince shook hands very heartily with Charles
Radclyffe.
Just then, an elderly personage, with silver locks that fell over his
shoulders, and wearing a priestly garb, entered the hall. It was Father
Norham, who had come to see who the earl had brought with him. The good
priest had a kindly and benevolent expression of countenance, and fixed
his keen grey eyes inquiringly on the stranger, with whose appearance he
was greatly struck.
After a few moments' scrutiny he consulted Lord Derwentwater by a look,
and his suspicions being confirmed, he most respectfully returned the
reverence made to him by the prince.
Having given some orders to the butler, Lord Derwentwater conducted his
guest to the library which opened from the hall, and they were followed
by Charles Rad-clyffe and the priest.
Further disguise was now unnecessary, and no inquisitive observer being
present, the prince was treated by all with the respect that was his
due.
The impression of the priest and Charles Radclyffe was that he was come
to prepare a rising, and when they learnt his real design they could
scarcely conceal their disappointment. Neither of them, however,
ventured to offer a remonstrance, till Father Norham, being urged by the
prince to speak out, said:
“I fear your majesty will find the queen impracticable. Moreover, she
has already named the Elector of Hanover her successor.”
“But she may change her mind, good father.”
“Her ministers will not allow her to do so, my liege. They are resolved
upon a Protestant succession--and so is she. Renounce your religion, and
you will succeed--not otherwise.”
“I have already said as much to his majesty,” observed Lord
Derwentwater. “But he entertains a better opinion of the queen than I
do.”
“I am unwilling to believe that she will disregard her father's dying
injunctions,” said the prince. “Bear in mind that she has never seen me.
When we meet, the voice of natural affection will make itself heard. She
will then become sensible of the great wrong she has done me, and
hasten to make atonement. She will feel that by her wicked and unnatural
conduct she has incurred Heaven's displeasure. Her own children have
been taken from her. Other severe chastisements may follow, if not
averted. These are the arguments I shall employ.”
“And they will fail in effect, my liege, because her heart is hardened,
and she is blind to her sinfulness,” said the priest. “She would rather
sacrifice her brother than help to re-establish our religion.”
“Trust me, my liege, Father Norham has formed a just estimate of the
queen's character,” said Lord Derwentwater. “'Tis vain to appeal to good
feelings, where none exist.”
“But I do not believe she is so utterly devoid of natural affection as
her conduct would seem to bespeak,” said the prince. “You shall judge
from what I am about to tell you. I have solicited a private interview
with her in Saint James's Palace, and she has granted my request.”
“Granted it!” exclaimed Lord Dervventwater in astonishment, that was
shared by the others.
“Ay,” replied the prince. “My letter was conveyed by a faithful friend,
and the answer to it was that her majesty would see me. Nothing more.
But that was all I asked. She felt compunction for her ill doing, or she
would have refused my request.”
“But how will you obtain admittance to her, my liege?” asked Lord
Derwentwater.
“Easily,” replied the prince. “The Earl of Mar will usher me into her
presence.”
“This certainly seems favourable, and alters my view of the matter,”
said the earl. “Yet it may be a device of Harley to ensnare your
majesty. Are you certain that your letter reached the queen?”
“My emissary would not deceive me,” replied the prince. “He is as loyal
as yourself.”
“If I may speak plainly to your majesty,” remarked Charles Radclyffe, “I
would say that I have still great doubts. The queen may delude you with
false hopes to keep you quiet.”
“Nay, she will keep her promise if she makes it. Of that I am
convinced,” said Father Norham.
At this juncture the butler entered to say that luncheon was served,
upon which the earl conducted his guest to the dining-room, where a very
substantial repast awaited them.
The Chevalier de Saint George had not breakfasted, and his early
morning's ride having given him a good appetite, he did ample justice to
the broiled trout from the Devil's Water, and the cutlets of Tyne salmon
set before him.
As the servants were present during the repast, he was treated merely as
an ordinary visitor, and the conversation between him and the earl was
conducted entirely in French.
This circumstance excited the suspicion of Mr. Newbiggin, the butler,
who from the first had been struck by the stranger's appearance and
manner, and he soon became convinced that Mr. Johnson, as the prince was
called, was a very important personage.
On quitting the dining-room, the butler found the earl's chief valet in
the entrance-hall, and said to him:
“I can't make out this Mr. Johnson, Thirlwall. I should like to know
what you think of him?”
“I'm puzzled, I own,” replied the other. “He seems to me like a
Frenchman.”
“No more a Frenchman than his lordship is, Thirlwall. But I shouldn't
wonder,” said the butler, knowingly, “if he has been brought up at a
French court.”
“At the Court of Saint Germains?” cried Thirlwall.
“Precisely,” said the butler.
“Why, you seem to insinuate that it's the Chevalier de Saint George in
person, Newbiggin.”
“I've my own idea on that point, Thirlwall,” said the butler. “If it
should turn out as I suspect, we're on the eve of an insurrection. The
prince wouldn't come here on a trifling errand. But keep quiet for the
present--this is mere conjecture.”
The butler then returned to the dining-room, while Mr. Thirlwall hurried
to the servants' hall, where he retailed all he had just heard, with
some additions of his own.
In less than half-an-hour it was known among the whole household that
his majesty, King James the Third, had arrived, in disguise, at the
castle.