A PERILOUS EMBASSY
Four or five days after our visit to Bettina, I met De Grammont at
Charing Cross, and he surprised me with an invitation to his house
that night to meet Monsieur l'Abbé du Boise at supper.
"The king and a dozen other gentlemen will be present," he said, "but
there will be no ladies. Monsieur l'Abbé, being of the church, is not a
ladies' man, and besides, ladies have sharper eyes than men, and might
see much that is intended to remain unseen."
The count's remark seemed to settle the question of the Abbé's identity,
and I hastened to Frances with the news. She assured me that she was
ready to die of fright, but showed no outward sign of dissolution, and
when I complimented her on her power of self-control, said:--
"Fortunately, I am part hypocrite, and can easily act a part."
"You have a hard one ahead of you," I returned, "and will need all your
strength before it is played to the end."
* * * * *
I was on hand early at De Grammont's supper, but found several gentlemen
ahead of me, awaiting, with the count in his parlor, the arrival of the
king. Soon after I entered the room, De Grammont presented me to the
Abbé. I was convinced at once that he was not George Hamilton. His beard,
worn à la Richelieu,--a mustache and a tuft on the chin,--was snow white,
and his hair, which was thin, hung in long white waves almost to his
shoulders. He walked with a stoop and wore spectacles, the glasses of
which were slightly colored. Being an ecclesiastic, though not a priest,
he wore no wig; but he was of the Order of the Cordon Bleu, and wore, in
addition to his badge and blue ribbon, a sword beneath his long coat. It
was the first time I had ever seen an ecclesiastic wearing a sword,
though it has since become common in France, where there are many "Abbés"
who are neither priests nor in orders.
The Abbé spoke poor English, therefore the conversation was carried on in
French, much to the annoyance of some of our guests, who pretended to a
greater knowledge of that language than they possessed.
Soon after my presentation to the Abbé, the king arrived, and we all went
out to the supper table, where the Abbé's chair was on the king's right,
with De Grammont on his Majesty's left. After the king had been seated a
moment, he rose and asked us to be seated; so we took our places, all
save the king dropping our hats beside us on the floor because of his
Majesty's presence.
I sat next to De Grammont, almost opposite the Abbé, and had a good
opportunity to observe the French emissary. The king's French was
excellent, and the dinner conversation was carried on largely between him
and the Abbé. All subjects were discussed, but the Abbé adroitly avoided
Dunkirk and seemed to prefer talking on religious and philosophical
topics, in which he took the liberty to disagree with the king in many
respects, politely though positively.
I listened attentively, hoping that some tone of the Abbé's voice, a pose
or a gesture, might reveal George Hamilton, if it were he, in the most
excellent disguise I had ever seen. But nothing of the sort occurred, and
before the dinner was over, I was still more convinced that whoever the
Abbé du Boise might be, he was not Hamilton.
After dinner came the heavy wines, of which the Abbé did not partake, and
of which De Grammont and I drank sparingly. All the others, including the
king, were gloriously drunk long before the night was over.
While smoking our pipes, the king, who was eager to get his hands
on French money, told the Abbé that he hoped to see him, with his
credentials, at Whitehall on the second morning following at ten o'clock,
and the Abbé said he would leave his credentials with my Lord Clarendon,
and would be at Whitehall at the hour suggested by the king, for the
purpose of making the French king's offer.
Most of the guests went home between two men, very late at night, but
fortunately I was able to walk home by myself.
I was both glad and disappointed not to find George in the gown of the
Abbé. I was glad because of the risk he would have taken had he come to
England, yet disappointed in missing what would have been the most
picturesque, daring personal exploit of English court history. But on the
whole it was better as it was.
The next morning the king sent for me to come to his closet, and asked if
I knew one Lilly, an astrologer. I answered that I knew little of him
personally, but had heard much of his wisdom and learning.
"Yes, yes, but you know where he lives, do you not? On the Strand, a
dozen houses this side of Temple Bar?" asked the king.
"I have seen the house often, your Majesty," I replied.
"Good! Now listen attentively to what I have to say," returned the king,
graciously taking my arm and leading me to a window overlooking the
river. "I hear from De Grammont that the Abbé du Boise is a firm believer
in the teachings of astrology. I want you to arrange, without letting any
one know that my finger is in the pie, to take Lilly to see the Abbé, or
the Abbé to see Lilly. I'll whisper a word in your ear. The stars will
tell our friend, the Abbé, a story to suit our purposes. The French king
and his ambassadors will find their match in me, I warrant you. I have
bought Lilly, body and soul--with promises." The king shrugged his
shoulders and whispered: "With promises, you understand, Baron Ned, with
promises. Now give him a chance at the Abbé."
Charles laughed and chuckled in self-gratulation, not the least
suspecting that he was talking to the wrong man and playing into the
French king's hand. I bore in mind the fact that the king had bought
Lilly with promises, and I determined to buy the good Doctor with ready
gold.
"I'll try to carry out your Majesty's commands," I answered, apparently
doubtful of my ability. "But of course you would not have me insist, if
the Abbé seems disinclined to consult Lilly."
"No, no! Odds fish, man, no! But find a way to bring them together,
and your reward will come later. I choose, you for this little piece of
business because you are in no way connected with the affair between the
French king and me, and because I know you are to be trusted."
I to be trusted! So was Brutus!
"I shall do my best, your Majesty, and if I fail, I shall notify you at
once," I said, taking my leave.
I hastened to De Grammont's house, which at that time was over near the
Mall, and told the count what the king had said.
"Ah, that is good!" cried De Grammont. "A fool, who knows himself to be a
fool, is likely to be wary, but one who deems himself wise is the easiest
dupe in the world. I'll see Monsieur l'Abbé. Wait."
De Grammont returned in a few minutes, saying that the Abbé would go with
me to see Doctor Lilly, and I suggested that I return for him in three
hours.
I went back to Whitehall, where I found Frances, and told her to be at
Lilly's house on the Strand within three hours, to meet the French king's
ambassador, and to receive the instructions which George's letter had
intimated the Abbé would give. I told her, also, that the Abbé was not
the person we had expected to see.
The evening before, she was ready to die of fright because we believed
that the Abbé was George Hamilton, and now, since I had found he was not,
she was ready to die of disappointment--so she assured me.
At the appointed time, De Grammont, the Abbé, and I took the count's
barge and went down to the water stairs nearest Temple Bar, where the
Abbé and I left De Grammont and walked up through the crowded streets to
Lilly's house. Owing to the crowded condition of the street, the Abbé and
I found no opportunity to exchange words until we were before Lilly's
house.
Lilly was at home, I having sent word of our coming, so when we knocked,
the servant opened and directed us to the waiting parlor, saying that the
Doctor would soon come down.
We started upstairs, I in the lead, the Abbé following ten paces behind.
When I entered the room, I found Bettina and Frances sitting by the
street window. They came to me quickly, and Frances explained Bettina's
presence.
"I did not like to come here alone, so I asked Betty to come with me. She
is to be trusted."
"You need not assure me of that," I answered, taking Betty's hand. "I
already know it. I am glad you--"
But here I was interrupted by a soft cry from Bettina, and by a
half-smothered scream from Frances, both of whom deserted me suddenly
and ran toward the door I had just entered. Turning, I saw Frances with
her arms about the Abbé's neck, and Bettina clasping one of his hands.
I thought the two had gone mad, but when Bettina saw my look of surprise
and inquiry, she dropped his hand, came to me, and asked:--
"Did you want us to pretend that we did not know him? If so, you should
have told us."
"But you don't know him," I declared.
"Perhaps I don't," she returned, laughing softly and shrugging her
shoulders, "but evidently your cousin does. If not, she should take her
arms from around his neck."
"But she is mistaken," I insisted.
"She seems to be convinced," answered Bettina, with a curious little
glance up to me, half laughing, half inquiring. Evidently she was
doubtful whether I spoke in jest or in earnest.
Frances still clung to the Abbé, her head resting on his shoulder, so I
started toward her, intending to correct her mistake. Bettina, seeing my
purpose, caught me by the arm, saying:--
"Don't you really know?"
The Abbé turned his face toward me, and when I caught a glimpse of his
eyes without spectacles, I recognized George Hamilton, and almost choked
myself in smothering a cry.
Frances turned to me, asking indignantly, "Why did not you tell me?"
"Because I did not know," I answered, hardly able to believe the truth.
But we had important business before us, and I knew that we should
prepare for it before Lilly came in. So George, Bettina, Frances, and
I went to a window at the far end of the room to hold a consultation.
"Since I did not recognize you, perhaps Lilly will not," I suggested. "I
trust the Doctor, but perhaps we had better leave him under the
impression that you are Monsieur l'Abbé du Boise and give no intimation
of the truth."
"I had not hoped that my disguise would deceive you, Baron Ned," said
George, "but since it has, it is just as well that we leave Lilly in the
dark if we can."
"But he will know. The stars will tell him," suggested Bettina, opening
her eyes very wide.
"The stars will tell him what he is paid to hear," I remarked. Then
turning to Frances, I asked, "How is it that you were able to recognize
him?"
"By his eyes!" exclaimed Frances and Bettina in concert.
"That gives me a valuable hint," said George, hastily adjusting his
colored spectacles. "Now, how about it?"
"I still should know you," answered Frances.
"Not I!" exclaimed Bettina.
Presently Lilly came in, and I presented him to Monsieur l'Abbé du Boise
and explained the presence of Frances and Bettina by saying:--
"A friend of ours in France has asked Mistress Jennings to render what
aid she can to Monsieur l'Abbé, and she is here at my request to receive
his commands."
"It is good!" exclaimed Lilly. "She has the king's ear if any one has,
and the ear is very close to the mind. What may I do to serve Monsieur
l'Abbé?"
"If I may see you privately---the baron and me--I shall tell you how you
may serve me," answered the Abbé.
The Abbé and I excused ourselves to Frances and Bettina, and went with
the Doctor to the room which he called his observatory, where we came to
the point very quickly:--
"I want to buy Dunkirk for my master for the sum of one hundred thousand
pounds," said the Abbé, by way of starting the consultation.
"But London has already offered that sum," returned Lilly, "and stands
ready to pay more."
"In payments," suggested the Abbé.
"Yes," returned Lilly. "But I see no way of bringing the king to accept
the sum you offer unless--unless Mistress Jennings can persuade him."
"She may be able to do so," answered the Abbé, shrugging his shoulders.
He spoke very bad English throughout the consultation. "But the stars,
too, may be very persuasive with King Charles. To be plain, he will
probably consult you, and if--"
"I am to see him to-night. That is why your visit was postponed until
to-morrow," interrupted Lilly.
"That is as I supposed," remarked the Abbé. "Now, if I buy Dunkirk for
one hundred thousand pounds, you shall receive two thousand pounds within
ten days after signing the treaty, and Baron Clyde will be my surety."
"Two thousand pounds?" mused Lilly. "That is rather a small sum in so
great a transaction."
"I doubt not the purchase may be made without the help of the stars if
you feel that two thousand pounds is too small a sum to be considered,"
returned the Abbé.
"No, no," said Lilly. "I understand that you wish me to set a figure and
work out the solution of this affair, and if I learn from the stars that
it is to King Charles's interest to accept your offer of one hundred
thousand pounds for the city of Dunkirk, I am to receive--"
"If King Charles accepts!" interrupted the Abbé.
"Ah, I see! Yes, yes, of course," returned Lilly. "I shall go to work
immediately and set my figure. Of course I do not know what I shall
learn, but I shall be glad to learn from the stars that which will enable
me to advise the king according to your wishes. Two thousand pounds are
two thousand pounds, and the word of a king is but a breath."
"What will the king give you for setting the figure and working it out?
What does he usually pay you in important affairs?" asked the Abbé.
"Ah--eh--I--I--In truth," returned Lilly, stammering, "the king, who is
so liberal with his lady friends, is--what shall I say?--close with me,
save in promises. He buys folly at the rate of hundreds of thousands of
pounds a year, while he pays for knowledge with large promises, and now
ten shillings and again five. On one occasion I assured him that he would
not fail if he attempted to put through a much-cherished plan of carrying
a lady to the country against her will. He was much pleased and gave me a
guinea, but borrowed it a week afterward, and--and still owes it."
George turned quickly to me, but, remembering that he was the Abbé du
Boise, said nothing. But I caught his meaning and, turning to Lilly,
asked:--
"Do you refer to the occasion of a certain kidnapping in which Hamilton
and I consulted you?"
"Yes," returned Lilly.
"And you allowed it to be carried out without telling us?" I asked
indignantly.
"I did not know who the lady was till you came to me for help," he
answered.
"And you were able to put us on the right track to find her because of
knowledge gained from the stars?" I asked, with a sharp note of sarcasm.
"No, no," he replied coolly. "Why trouble the stars for information that
may be had as easily and more definitely elsewhere?"
"Then why did you not tell us the true source of your knowledge?" I asked
warmly.
"Because I had neither right nor desire to betray the person most
actively engaged in the affair. To have done so might have cost me my
life. I gave you the information you asked, and you saved the lady
through my help, without which you would not have known where to turn.
You would have been helpless. You paid me ten guineas. Were my services
worth the fee?"
"Ah, richly," I returned, beginning to see the whole matter of astrology
in a new light.
"Then why do you complain?" he asked. "A man, naturally, wants to know
where his meat comes from, but knowledge, like a diamond, is good found
anywhere."
"I beg your pardon, Doctor Lilly," I answered, waving my hand as a
substitute for hauling down my colors. "I turn you over to Monsieur
l'Abbé once more."
"I think we understand each other," remarked the Abbé. "You say the king
has employed you to set a figure, and that you are to take the solution
to him to-night?"
"Monsieur l'Abbé is correct," returned Lilly.
"I hope the stars may see fit to advise the king to accept my first
offer, for it will be the last," said the Abbé. "Possibly the stars may
show that in case King Charles sells Dunkirk to London even for a much
larger sum than I shall offer, he may be compelled to spend the money and
a great deal more in defending the city."
"True, true," agreed Lilly.
"Possibly the stars may indicate that King Louis loves war," continued
the Abbé. "They may show that if King Charles refuses my master's offer,
England may be compelled to give up Dunkirk for nothing, or spend a vast
deal of money and blood in defending it. If the French king lays siege to
Dunkirk, the English people will force King Charles to take one of two
courses--defence or abdication. In the latter case he might lose his
head, as his father did before him. Furthermore, if King Charles refuses
my first offer, my master will withdraw, in which case London also will
withdraw. Is it not possible that the stars may tell you all this?"
"The conditions you suggest are so probable that one hardly need ask
confirmation of the stars, and so reasonably to be expected are the
events you predict that, beyond question, stellar revelation will be in
accord with your desires. But the stars will say what they will say, and
I shall give King Charles the truth from whatever source it comes," said
Lilly, lifting his head in righteousness and posing as the embodiment of
truth.
"That is all I can ask," returned the Abbé, rising to close the
interview.
"All exceedingly reasonable--reasonable," answered Lilly, bowing.
We returned to the parlor, where we found Frances and Bettina awaiting
us, not patiently, if I could judge by their looks. I asked Lilly to
allow us to occupy the room undisturbed for an hour while the Abbé gave
certain instructions to Frances, but the Doctor did better for us. He
took us to a room enclosed in glass on the roof of his house, where we
could be by ourselves with the sun and the sky overhead, and all London
beneath us.
To this day I am not sure that Lilly did not know Hamilton, but if he
did, he concealed his knowledge completely, feeling, doubtless, that it
would be a dangerous bit of information to himself and of no benefit to
any one else. If George should be discovered by the king, Lilly could
honestly disclaim knowing him. If affairs turned to our desire, the
Doctor could lose nothing by his ignorance whether pretended or real. So
I doubt not he thanked us for the imposture, if he discovered it.
It is needless to say that Bettina, Frances, George, and I were very
pleased to be together once more. We spent a delightful hour in Lilly's
observatory, where we made our plans for the following day, which will
unfold in the order of their occurrence. A great deal of the time we were
all talking at once, but for some strange reason we were all silent when
George said laughingly, though nervously, that the French king had sent
word to Frances that we would pay her ten thousand pounds if George's
mission proved successful.
Having anticipated the possible necessity for quick action at the proper
time, George had brought with him two copies of a treaty, written in
Latin. He brought also plenary authority from the French king, under
the great Seal of France, authorizing Monsieur l'Abbé du Boise to sign,
execute, and deliver the treaty on the part of France and to receive
in return the treaty to be executed by the English king. He also bore
authority to make and deliver to King Charles a bill of exchange on
Backwell, the goldsmith, for the purchase money of Dunkirk. Thus all
would be ready for immediate conclusion the moment King Charles accepted
the French king's offer.
That night near the hour of one o'clock, Lilly called by appointment to
see me at De Grammont's house, coming from Whitehall, where he had been
closeted with the king for three or four hours, explaining to his Majesty
the message of the stars as read by the light of two thousand pounds.
"I explained to his Majesty," said Lilly, "that in all my calculations
and observations, Mars intruded with alarming persistency in conjunction
with King Louis's star. I tried to show him that the recurrences of this
untoward conjunction were so rapid and constant as to denote war at a
very early date if conditions were not affected at once by the
intervention of the messenger, Mercury, whose sign fortunately
accompanied each unfortuitous conjunction. The king, though pretending
to be learned in the noble art of astrology, asked me to translate my
solution, and I did so, almost in the words of Monsieur l'Abbé this
afternoon."
"Thank you," remarked George.
"No, no, do not thank me," said Lilly, disclaiming all credit. "What
Monsieur said was so reasonable and fitted so aptly to the probable
conditions of the future, read in the terrestrial light of the present,
sound reason, that it was hardly necessary to ask the stars. But in
compliance with the king's request, I set my figure and found, as usual,
that the revelations of the stars coincided with the dictates of reason.
It is true the stars sometimes forecast events which seem almost
impossible in view of present conditions, but the questioner of the
heavens who does not use his reason to help his interpretation of the
stars is, to say the least, far from wise."
"Yes," interrupted the Abbé. "But come to the point! What did the king
say?"
"He did not entirely accept the message of the stars," returned Lilly.
"He does not seem to object to war. He says there is no time when it is
as easy to raise money from the people as in times of war. I suggested
that money in the nation's treasury was not in the privy purse, where the
king most wants it. But he said it was only a short journey from the
treasury to the privy purse, and--well, I agreed with him. If you want to
convert a vain, stubborn fool to your way of thinking, don't let him know
what your way is."
"So the stars have failed?" asked the Abbé.
"No," returned Lilly, "they have put the king to thinking, but more, they
have sowed the seeds of fear, a plant which grows rapidly in a coward's
heart by night."
"But not rapidly enough to suit our purposes, I fear," returned the Abbé.
"Yes," insisted Lilly. "If the king's inclination can be changed, fear
will sweep aside all other considerations in a moment, and he will accept
the one hundred thousand pounds which you will offer to-morrow morning.
But in case the king does conclude to accept the French king's offer, the
iron will at once take on a white heat, and--well, iron remains at white
heat only a short time. You must be ready to act quickly when the proper
moment comes, or London will spring between you and the king."
"I shall be ready," returned the Abbé. "The king shall be inclined to our
proposition before another day is past."
"Shall I tell you what the stars predict concerning the signing of the
treaty?" asked Lilly.
"Yes, yes," I answered eagerly.
"I have found Venus in conjunction with--" began Lilly.
"Oh, damn the stars!" cried the Abbé, most uncanonically. "Tell me what
you think about it!"
"The stars tell me that the treaty will be signed to-morrow night--that
is, to-night, this being the early morning," answered the Doctor,
persistently maintaining his attitude of stellar interpreter.
"Very well. Good night, Doctor," said the Abbé. "And may the shadow of
your discretion never grow less."
A moment later I conducted Lilly to the door, and when I returned to De
Grammont, who had not spoken a word during the entire interview, he
shrugged his shoulders and said:--
"Sacrament! What a wise man a fool may be! It is to admire!"
"I doubt if any man is beneficially wise unless he be in part a fool,"
said the Abbé, and I closed the symposium by remarking:--
"Folly tinctures wisdom with common sense, illumines it with imagination,
and gives it everyday usefulness. But best of all, it helps a man to
understand the motives of other fools who constitute the bulk of
mankind."
"Ah, baron," said De Grammont, yawning. "It is all doubtless true. Who
would have expected to find so much cynical wisdom in an Englishman? But
let us to bed!"
Hamilton and I were up by five o'clock the next morning, in consultation.
He was for dropping the matter in so far as it involved Frances, but I
insisted that while it was a disagreeable task for her, she was wise with
a woman's wisdom, calm with a woman's calmness, and bold with a woman's
boldness, which knows no equal when the motive springs from the heart
rather than the head.
We discussed the matter in all its phases, and then I went to the palace
to see Frances. When she arose, I was waiting to tell her that the Abbé
would see the king at ten o'clock and to ask her to wait in the anteroom
of the duchess's parlor. If Charles accepted the French king's offer, I
should pass by her wearing my hat, and she would know that her help would
not be needed. If the king refused, I should carry my hat in my hand, and
she could take her own course with Charles.
"Do you fear?" I asked, being myself very much afraid, for we were
dealing with an absolute monarch, devoid of conscience, devoid of caution
save when prompted by cowardice, but plenteously imbued with venom in his
heart and all things evil in his soul.
"I fear?" cried Frances, tossing her head defiantly.
I thought surely no woman ever was as beautiful as this one, in whose
heart there was no fear, no doubt of self, no faltering in the face of
danger. I asked her to tell me of her plans, and she answered:--
"I have no plan save to see the king. Then the plans will come of
themselves."