A PAUSE of expectation, even if it be but for a minute, is sometimes
the most painful thing in the world; and the heart of poor Laura at
that moment, while the door was being slowly opened, and all their
eyes were fixed eagerly upon it, felt as if the blood were stayed in
it till it was nearly bursting. Wilton, who saw all that took place
more calmly, judged by the careful opening of the door, that there
was a good deal of timidity in the persons whom it hid from their
view. But when it was at length opened, the sight that it presented
was not well calculated to soothe any one's alarm.
In the doorway itself were three well-armed men, with each his sword
drawn in his hand, while behind these again were seen the faces of
several more. The countenance of the first, Sir George Barkley, which
we have already described, was certainly not very prepossessing, and
to the eyes of Laura, there was not one who had not the countenance
of an assassin. It was evident that Sir George Barkley expected to
see a much more formidable array than that presented to him and his
companions, in the persons of two ladies and two armed gentlemen, for
his eyes turned quickly from the right to the left round the room, to
assure himself that it contained no one else. There was a momentary
pause at the door; but when it was clear that very little was to be
apprehended, the troop poured in with much more hasty and confident
steps than those with which they had first approached.
Two or three of Sir George Barkley's party were advancing quickly to
the spot where Wilton and the lady stood; but the young gentleman
held up his right hand suddenly, putting his left upon one of the
pistols which he carried, and saying, "Stand back, gentlemen! I do
not permit men with swords drawn to come too close to me, till I know
their purpose--Stand back, I say!" and he drew the pistol from his
belt.
"We mean you no harm, sir," said Sir George Barkley, pausing with the
rest. "But we must know who you are, and what you are doing here, and
that immediately."
"Who I am, can be of no more consequence to you, sir," replied
Wilton, "than who you are is to me--which, by your good leave, I
would a great deal rather not know, if you will suffer me to be
ignorant thereof;--and as to what I am doing here, I do not see that
I am bound to explain that to anybody but the master of the house, or
to some person authorized by law to inquire into such particulars."
"Mighty fine, sir," said the voice of Sir John Fenwick, as he
advanced from behind--"Mighty fine! But this is a mere waste of time.
In the first place, what are you doing with that lady, who, as her
father's friend, I intend immediately to take under my protection."
"Her father, sir," replied Wilton, with a contemptuous smile, "judges
that the lady has been somewhat too long under your careful but
somewhat forcible protection already. I beg leave to give you notice,
Sir John Fenwick, that I am fully authorized by the Duke of Gaveston,
Lady Laura's father, by a writing under his own hand, to seek for and
deliver her from those who have taken her away. I know you have been
too wise and prudent to suffer yourself to be seen in this business
hitherto, and if you will take my advice, you will not meddle with it
now.--Stand back, sir; for as I live, I will shoot you through the
head if you take one single step forward; and you know I will keep my
word!"
"But there is more to be inquired into, sir," exclaimed Sir George
Barkley--"there is blood--blood upon the stairs, blood--"
"Hear me, Sir George," said Lady Helen, advancing. "You know me well,
and must believe what I say."
"I have the pleasure of recollecting your ladyship very well,"
replied Sir George; "but I thought that you and Miss Villars had
sailed back for France by this time."
"Alas! Sir George," replied the lady--"poor Caroline, I fear, will
not be able to be moved. She has met with a severe accident to-night,
and it is her blood, poor child, that you saw upon the stairs. This
gentleman has had nothing farther to do with the matter, except
inasmuch as he was accidentally present, and kindly carried her
upstairs to the room where she now lies."
"That alters the case," said Sir George Barkley: "but who is he? We
have heard reports by the way which give us alarm. Will he pledge his
honour, as a gentleman, never to mention anything he has seen this
night--or, at least, not for six months?"
"On that condition," demanded Wilton, "will you give me perfect
freedom of egress with this lady and the gentleman who is with me?"
"Not with the lady!" exclaimed Sir George Barkley, sharply; and at
the same moment Sir John Fenwick, Rookwood, and Parkyns all
surrounded the Jacobite leader, speaking eagerly, but in a low tone,
and evidently remonstrating against his permitting the departure of
any of the party. He seemed puzzled how to act.
"Come out here again," he said--"come out here, where we can speak
more at ease. They cannot get out of this room, if we keep the
door."
"Not without breaking their neck from the window," replied Rookwood.
"What is that small door there at the side?" said Sir George
Barkley. "Let some one see!"
"'Tis nothing but a cupboard," said Sir John Fenwick--"I examined it
the other night, for fear of eavesdroppers. There is no way out."
"I shall consider your proposal, sir," said Sir George Barkley,
turning to Wilton: "stay here quietly. We wish to offer no violence
to any man; we are very harmless people in our way."
A grim smile hung upon his thin lip as he spoke; and looking from
time to time behind him, as if he feared the use which Wilton might
make of the pistol in his hand, he left the room with his
companions. The moment after, the lock of the door was heard to
turn, and a heavy bar that hung beside it clattered as it was drawn
across.
"A few minutes gained is a great thing," cried Wilton. "I have heard
of people defending themselves long, by forming a sort of temporary
barricade. A single cavalier in the time of Cromwell kept at bay a
large force for several hours. In this deep window we are defended
on all sides but one. Let us do what we can to guard ourselves on
that also."
The furniture was scanty; but still the large table in the middle of
the room, and a sideboard which stood in one corner, together with
chairs and various smaller articles, were speedily formed into a
little fortress, as it were, which enclosed the opening of the window
in such a manner as to leave a space open towards the enemy of not
more than two feet in width. Wilton exerted himself to move all
these without noise, and the Captain aided him zealously; while Laura
clung to Lady Helen, and hid her eyes upon her new friend's bosom,
anticipating every moment the return of the other party, and the
commencement of a scene of strife and bloodshed.
It is to the proceedings of those without the room, however, that we
must more particularly direct our attention.
"In the name of Heaven, Sir George," exclaimed both Rookwood and
Fenwick, as soon as they were on the outside of the door--"do not let
them go, on any account. Our whole plan is blasted, and ourselves
ruined for ever, if such a thing is to take place!"
"Why," continued Fenwick, "this youth, this Wilton Brown, is
secretary to the Earl of Byerdale, a natural son of Lord Sunbury, it
is supposed, brought up from his infancy in the most violent Orange
principles; and he will think himself justified in breaking his word
with us the moment he is out of the house, and bringing upon us the
troops from Hoo. He knows me well by sight, too; and if he be let
loose, I shall not consider my life worth a moment's purchase."
"Even if you could trust him," said Rookwood, "there is the other,
Captain Byerly as they call him, Green's great friend, who threw the
money, which Lowick offered him to quit Green, in his face. If the
tidings we just now heard, that the matter has taken some wind, be
true, this fellow Byerly will bring down the soldiers upon us, and
swear to us anywhere."
"But what am I to do?" demanded Sir George Barkley, hesitating. "We
shall have bloodshed and much noise, depend upon it."
"Leave them all, locked in, where they are," said Sir William
Parkyns--"they can do no harm there. Let us ourselves, like brave
and determined men, carry into execution at once the resolution we
have formed. Let us turn our horses' heads towards London; meet at
Turnham Green, as was proposed; and while people are seeking for us
here in vain, the usurper's life will be brought to an end, and his
unsteady government overthrown for ever. Everything in the country
will be in confusion; our friends will be rising in all
quarters;--the Duke of Berwick, I know, was at Calais yesterday;--the
army can land in two days; and the advantages of our situation will
all be secured by one prompt and decided blow. I say, leave them
where they are. Before they can make their escape, the whole thing
will be over, and we shall be safe."
"Nonsense, Sir William," cried Fenwick, "nonsense, I say. Here is
Plessis, has evidently played into their hands; the man we put to
guard the girl has been bribed off his post; the window itself is not
so high but that an active man might easily drop from it, if he could
see clearly where to light below; ere noon, to-morrow, the tidings of
our assemblies would reach Kensington. William of Orange would not
stir out, and the whole plan would be frustrated. We should be
hunted down through the country like wild beasts, and you would be
one of the first to repent the advice you have given."
"But my good friend, Fenwick," said Sir George Barkley, "all this is
very well. But still you do not say what is to be done. Every one
objects to the plan which is proposed by another, and yet no one
proposes anything that is not full of dangers."
"For my part," said Charnock, who had hitherto scarcely spoken at
all--"for my part, if you were to ask my opinion, I should say, Let
us walk in--we are here eleven or twelve in all; twelve, I think--and
just quietly make a circle round, and give them a pistol-shot or
two. If people WILL come prying into other persons' affairs, and
meddling with things they have no business to concern themselves
about, they must take the consequences."
"Not in cold blood! not in cold blood!" exclaimed Rookwood.
"And the women!" said Sir John Fenwick, "Remember the women!"
"I hope William of Orange won't have a woman with him to-morrow,"
said Charnock, coolly, "or if he has, that she'll not be upon my side
of the carriage; I would never let a woman stand in the way when a
great deed was to be done."
"Well, for my part," said Fenwick, "I agree with Sir William Parkyns,
that no time is to be lost in the execution of this business; but I
agree also with Captain Rookwood, that it would be horrible to cut
these men's throats in cold blood. What I propose is this, that we at
once demand that they lay down their arms, and that, pledging our
word of honour no evil shall happen to them, we march them down one
by one to the boat, and ship them off for France. It will be an
affair of three hours to get them embarked; but that will be time
well bestowed. We can then proceed to the execution of our scheme at
once, and in far greater safety. If they make any resistance, the
consequence be upon their own head."
"But," said Sir George Barkley, "depend upon it they will not go.
There is a determination in that young fellow's look which is not to
be mistaken. He will submit to no power but that of the law."
"Well, then," said Sir John Fenwick, "frighten him with the law!
Declare that you will take them all before a magistrate, to give an
account of the blood that has been shed here. There is blood on his
collar, and his face too, for I saw it; and the whole stairs is
spotted with blood. Tell them that both the men must surrender and
go before a magistrate. The ladies, you can say, may go where they
like, and do what they like, but the men must surrender. Let half of
us go down with the men, and lead or force them to the ship, while
the rest bring down the two women a few minutes after."
"That is not a bad plan at all, Fenwick," said Sir George Barkley.
"Let us see what can be done by it. We can but come to blows at
last."
While the latter part of this conversation had been going on between
Fenwick and Barkley, the Jacobite called Charnock and a dull-looking
man not unlike himself, but only shorter and more broadly made, had
been speaking together in a low voice behind. At first their
conversation was carried on in a whisper; but at length the man said
somewhat louder, "Oh, I'll do it! That's the only way to settle
it. You take the one, and I'll take the other. We don't readily
miss our mark either of us."
"Let Sir George begin his story," replied Charnock. "There must be
some talk at first, you know. Then get quietly up behind our timid
friends here, and when I give a nod, we will both fire at once."
"I understand," answered the other. "You had better see that your
pistols are primed, Charnock, and that the balls are not out, for you
rode at a rate down that hill which would shake almost any ball into
the holster."
"I looked just now," said Charnock--"it's all right. Let us keep
pretty near Sir George;" and turning round, he came nearer to Sir
George Barkley, who was just finishing his conversation with Fenwick,
as we have described.
While holding this long consultation, the insurgents had not been
many paces from the door, and they now turned and re-entered the
room. The state of defence in which Wilton and his companion had
placed themselves showed a degree of determination that seemed to
surprise and puzzle them a good deal; for Sir George Barkley again
paused, and spoke to Sir John Fenwick, who was close behind him.
"The more reason for doing as we propose," replied Sir John to his
friend's observation. "They will not resist going before a
magistrate--at least, Wilton Brown will not, and we can easily manage
the other."
Sir George Barkley then advanced another step, saying to Wilton, who,
notwithstanding the barrier he had raised, was still quite visible as
far as the waist, "We have consulted, sir, on what it is necessary to
do with you, and if your own account of yourselves be true, you will
readily acquiesce in our determination. If you resist it, you show
that you know yourselves to be guilty of some crime, and we must deal
with you accordingly."
"Pray, sir, what is your determination?" asked Wilton. "For my part,
I require free permission to quit this place with this gentleman and
Lady Laura Gaveston; and nothing shall prevent me from so doing at
the risk of my life."
"You shall do so, sir," replied Sir George Barkley, "but you shall go
before a magistrate in the first instance. Here are evident marks of
violence having been committed upon the person of some one; the
staircase, the vestibule, the corridors, are covered with blood; your
coat, your collar, your face, are also bloody; and we feel ourselves
bound, before we let you depart, to have this matter strictly
inquired into."
"Oh, go before a magistrate at once," said Laura, in a low voice: "we
have nothing to fear from that, and they have everything."
"Showing clearly that it is a pretence, dear lady," replied Wilton,
in the same low tone. "Keep behind the barricade. I see one of those
men creeping up from the door with a pistol in his hand.--Sir," he
continued, addressing Sir George Barkley, "in those circumstances,
the best plan for you to pursue will be to bring a magistrate here. I
neither know who you are, nor what are your views; but I find this
young lady, who has been carried off from her father's house,
illegally brought hither, and detained. I know the house to be a
suspected one; and although, as I have before said, I neither know
who you are, nor what are your views, and do not by any means wish to
know, yet the circumstances in which I find you are sufficiently
doubtful to justify me in refusing to quit this spot, and place
myself in your hands, unless every man present gives me his word of
honour as a gentleman that I shall go free whithersoever I will. If,
therefore, you think a magistrate requisite to inquire into this
business, send for one. I think, however, that you would do much
better to plight me your word at once, and let me go. I know no one
but Sir John Fenwick here: therefore I can betray no one but him;
and to Sir John Fenwick I pledge my word that I will not mention
him."
It was evident that Sir John Fenwick put no trust in such assurances,
and he was seen speaking vehemently with Sir George Barkley. At the
same moment, however, a low conversation was carried on in a slow and
careless sort of manner by Charnock and the other, who were just
behind.
"I can't get a shot at the Captain," said Charnock, calmly. "His
head is covered by that table they've set on end.--Stop a bit, stop
a bit!"
"Better let me settle this young fellow first," said the other, "and
then the stupid fools will be obliged to make a rush upon the
Captain. When once blood is drawn, they must go on, you know."
"Very well," replied Charnock, "I don't care"--and there was the
sudden click of a pistol-lock heard behind. "His eye is upon you,"
said Charnock. "Make haste! He is cocking his pistol!"
The man instantly raised the weapon that was in his hand, and was in
the very act of firing over the shoulder of Sir George Barkley, when
his arm was suddenly knocked up by a blow from behind, and the ball
passed through the window, a yard and a half above Wilton's head.
Wilton instantly dropped the muzzle of his pistol, without returning
the shot. But there was a cause for his so doing, which none of the
conspirators themselves, who were all eagerly looking towards the
spot where he stood, had yet perceived.
While Charnock and the other had been speaking, a young gentleman had
suddenly entered the room, and pushing rapidly forward through the
group in the doorway, he had advanced to the front and knocked up the
hand of the assassin just as he was in the very act of firing. The
new comer was dressed in dark-coloured clothes, and more in the
French than in the English costume of that day, with a curious sort
of cravat of red silk tied in a bow beneath the chin. He wore his
hat, which was trimmed with feathers, and a large red bow of ribands,
and in his hand he bore nothing but a small cane with an amber head,
while his person displayed no arms whatever, except a small riding
sword, which every gentleman wore in that day.
His figure was tall and commanding; his countenance open, noble, but
somewhat stern; and there was to be remarked therein the peculiar
expression which the pictures of Vandyke have handed down to us in
the portraits of Charles I. It was a melancholy expression; but in
Charles that melancholy seemed somewhat mingled with weakness; while
on the stern brow and tightly-compressed lips of the young stranger,
might be read, by the physiognomist, vigour and determination almost
approaching to obstinacy.
The same, perhaps, might have been said of him which was said by the
Roman sculptor when he beheld the picture of Charles, "That man will
not die a natural death;" and in this instance, also, the prophecy
would have been correct. But there was something that might have
spoken, too, of death upon the battle-field, or in the deadly breach,
or in some enterprise where daring courage needed to be supported by
unshrinking pertinacity and resolution.
The sound of the pistol-shot fixed all eyes, for an instant, upon
that particular point in the room towards which it had been fired;
but the moment that the conspirators beheld the person who now stood
amongst them, they instantly drew back in a circle. Every sword was
thrust into its sheath, every hat was taken off, while, with a
flashing eye and frowning brow, the young stranger turned to Sir
George Barkley, exclaiming, "What is all this, sir? What is this,
gentlemen? Are ye madmen? or fools? or villains?"
"Those are hard words, your grace," replied Sir George Barkley, "and
hard to stomach."
"Not more than those persons deserve, sir," replied the stranger,
"who betray the confidence of their King, when they know that he is
powerless to punish them."
"We are serving our King, my lord duke," replied Sir John Fenwick,
"and not betraying his confidence. Are we not here in arms, my Lord
of Berwick, perilling our lives, prepared for any enterprise, and all
on the King's behalf?"
"I say again, sir," replied the Duke of Berwick, "that those who
abuse the trust reposed in them, so as to ruin their monarch's
honour, his character, and his reputation, are tenfold greater
traitors than those who have stripped him of his crown. There is but
one excuse for your conduct, that you have acted with mistaken zeal
rather than criminal intent. But you have aggravated the guilt of
your plans by concealing them till the last moment, not only from
your King, but from your Commander-in-chief. All here who hold
commissions, or at least all but one or two, hold them under my hand
as generalissimo of my father's forces. Those commissions authorize
you to raise men for the service of your lawful sovereign, and to
kill or take prisoner his enemies arrayed in arms against you, but to
assassinate no man; and I feel heartily ashamed that any person
leagued in this great cause with me, should not be able to
distinguish between war and murder. However, on these subjects let us
speak no more at present, for there are matters even more important
to be thought of I heard of this but yesterday morning, and at the
imminent peril of my life have come to England to stop such deeds. I
sought you in London, Sir George Barkley, and have followed you
hither; and from what I have heard, I have to tell you that your
coming to England has been discovered, and that for the last four or
five days a warrant has been out against you, without your knowing
it. This I learned, beyond all doubt, from my Lady Middleton. There
is reason, also, to believe that your whole designs are known, sirs,
though it would seem all your names have not yet been obtained. My
advice, therefore, is, that you instantly disperse to different parts
of the country, or effect your escape to France. For you, Sir George,
there is no chance but to retire to France at once, as the warrant is
out."
"It most fortunately happens," said Sir George Barkley, "that a ship
is on the point of sailing, and lies in the river here, under Dutch
colours. Your grace will, of course, go back in her?"
"No, sir," replied the Duke--"I shall go as I came, in an open boat.
But you have no time to lose, for I know that suspicion is attached
to this spot. In the first place, however, tell me, what you have
here. What new outrage is this that I have just seen attempted? If I
had not entered at the very moment, cold and cowardly bloodshed would
have taken place five minutes ago."
The Duke's eyes were fixed upon Wilton as he spoke; and that
gentleman, now seeing and understanding whom he had to deal with, put
back the pistol into his belt, and advanced, saying,--
"My lord, it is probable I owe my life to your inter-position; and
to you the circumstances in which I am placed will be explained in a
moment. In your honour and integrity, I have confidence; but the
murderous purpose which you have just disappointed shows how well I
was justified in doubting the intentions of the men by whom I was but
now surrounded."
"Had you given them no offence, sir?" demanded the Duke of Berwick.
"I can scarcely suppose that so dark and sanguinary an act would have
been attempted had you not given some cause. I saw the pistol
levelled over Sir George Barkley's shoulder, while he seemed speaking
to you. That I considered a most unfair act, and stopped it. But you
must surely have done something to provoke such deeds.--Good
heavens! the Lady Helen Oswald!" he continued, as the elder lady
advanced, with Laura clinging to her. "Madam, I fully thought you
were at St. Germain.--Can you tell us anything of this strange
affair?"
"But too much, my lord," replied the lady, speaking eagerly, "but too
much for the honour of these men, who have thought fit to violate
every principle of justice and humanity. This young lady beside me
has been dragged from her father's house by the orders of some of
these gentlemen here present, beyond all doubt. This young gentleman
has traced her hither, legally authorized to carry her back to her
father; and although he plighted his honour, and I pledged my word
for him, that he would do nothing and say nothing to compromise any
of the persons here present, they not only refused to let him depart,
but have, as you saw yourself, most treacherously attempted to take
his life while they were affecting to parley with him."
"Madam," said the Duke of Berwick, in a sorrowful tone, "I am deeply
grieved and pained by all that has occurred. I confess I never felt
despondency till I discovered that persons, pretending to be my
father's friends, have made his cause the pretext for committing
crimes and acts like these. I have already heard this young lady's
story. All London is ringing with it; and the Earl of Aylesbury gave
me this morning, what is probably the real explanation of the whole
business. We will not enter upon it now, for there is no time to be
spared. I feel and know--and I say it with bitter regret--that the
deeds which these gentlemen have done, and the schemes which they
have formed, will do more to injure the cause of their legitimate
sovereign than the loss of twenty pitched battles. Sir George
Barkley, I beg you would make no reply. Provide for your safety, sir.
Your long services and sufferings are sufficient to make some
atonement; and I will take care to conceal from the ears of the King,
as far as possible, how you have misused his authority. Sir John
Fenwick and the rest of you gentlemen must act as you think fit in
regard to remaining in England, or going to the Continent. But I am
inclined to recommend to you the latter, as the safest expedient. You
will leave me to deal with this gentleman and his friends; for I need
not tell you that I shall suffer no farther injury or insult to be
offered to them. As to the personage who actually fired the pistol, I
have merely to tell him, that should I ever meet with him in
circumstances where I have the power to act, I will undoubtedly
punish him for his conduct this night."
The conspirators whispered for a moment amongst themselves; and at
length Sir William Parkyns took a step forward, saying, "Are we to
understand your grace that you will give us no assistance from the
French forces under your command?"
"You are so to understand me," replied the Duke of Berwick, sternly:
"I will not, sir, allude distinctly to the schemes that you have
formed. But you are all well aware of them; and I tell you that I
will give no aid, support, or countenance whatsoever, either to such
schemes or to the men who have formed them. At the same time, let me
say, that had there been--instead of such schemes--a general rising
against the usurper--ay, or even a partial rising--nay, had I found
twenty gentlemen in arms who needed my help in the straightforward,
honest, upright intent of re-seating their sovereign on his lawful
throne, I would not have hesitated for a moment to land the troops
under my command, and to have made a last determined stand for honour
and my father's rights. As it is, gentlemen, I have nothing farther
to say, but take care of yourselves. I shall remain here for a couple
of hours, and then return with all speed to France."
"But does not your grace run a great risk," said Sir George Barkley,
"in remaining so long?"
"I fear no risk, sir," said the Duke of Berwick, "in a righteous
cause; and I do not wish that any man should say I was amongst the
first to fly after I had warned others. You have all time, gentlemen,
if you make use of it wisely. Some, I see, are taking advantage of my
caution already. Sir George, you had better not be left behind in the
race. You say there is a ship in the river--get to her, and be gone
with all speed."
"But the captain will not sail without the Lady Helen," said the
conspirator, with some hesitation: "she, it seems, has hired the
vessel, and he refused this morning to go without her."
"That shall be no impediment," said the lady. "You may tell the
captain that I set him free from his engagement, and I will give an
order to his grace that the money may be paid which is the man's due.
I told you before, Miss Villars had met with a severe accident, and I
can neither quit her in such circumstances, nor go till she has
recovered."
"Will you be kind enough, madam," replied Sir George, who always had
thoughts for his own safety, "to write what you have said in these
tablets? Here is a pencil."
The lady took the tablets and wrote; and while she did so, two or
three, more of the conspirators dropped quietly out of the room. The
Duke of Berwick at the same time advanced, and said a few kindly
words to Lady Laura, and spoke for a moment to Wilton, with a
familiar smile, in regard to the risk he had run.
"To tell the truth," he said, "I was almost afraid that I should
myself meet with a shot between you; for I saw you had your pistol
cocked in your hand, and expected that the next fire would have been
upon your side."
"I saw you knock his arm up, sir," replied Wilton; "and though I was
not aware of the name of the person who entered, I was not a little
rejoiced to see, at least, one man of honour amongst them."
"Alas! sir," replied the Duke, in a lower tone, "they are all, more
or less, men of honour; but you must remember that there is a
fanaticism in politics as well as in religion, and men will think
that a great end will justify any intermediate means. An oak, planted
in the sand, sir, is as soon blown down as any other tree; and it is
not every heart that is firm and strong enough constantly to support
the honour that is originally implanted in it against the furious
blasts of passion, interest, or ambition. You must remember, too,
that those who are called Jacobites in this country have been hunted
somewhat like wolves and wild beasts; and nothing drives zeal into
fanaticism so soon as persecution."
"My lord, I am now ready to depart," said Sir George Barkley,
approaching, "and doubt not to be able to make my views and motives
good to my royal master."
"There is none, sir, who will abhor your views so much," replied the
Duke of Berwick, proudly, "though he may applaud your motives. But
you linger, Sir George. Can I do anything for you, or for those other
gentlemen by the door?"
"Nothing, your grace," replied Sir George Barkley; "but we would fain
see you provide for your own safety."
"Oh, no fear, no fear," replied the Duke. "Gentlemen, good night. I
trust to hear, when in another land, that this bad affair has ended
without evil consequences to yourselves. To the cause of your
sovereign it may be a great detriment; but I pray God that no whisper
of the matter may get abroad so as to affect his honour or bring
suspicion on his name. Once more, good night!"
Sir George Barkley bowed his head, and followed by three others, who
had still lingered, quitted the room.