It was about the hour of noon, and the day was dull and oppressive.
Though the apartments assigned to the Duke were high up, and in
themselves anything but gloomy, yet no cheering ray of sunshine had
visited them, and the air, which was extremely warm, seemed loaded
with vapour. The spirits of the prisoner were depressed in
proportion, and since the first hour of his imprisonment he had
never, perhaps, felt so much as at that moment, all the leaden weight
of dull captivity, the anguish of uncertainty, and the delay of hope,
which, ever from the time of the prophet king down to the present
day, has made the heart sick and the soul weary. It was in vain that
his daughter, with the tenderest, the kindest, the most assiduous
care, strove to raise his expectations or support his resolution; it
was in vain that she strove to wean his thoughts away from his own
painful situation by music, or by reading, or by conversation. Grief,
like the dull adder, stops its ear that it may not hear the song of
the charmer; and while she sang to him or played to him upon the
lute, at that time an instrument still extremely common in England,
or read to him from the books which she thought best calculated to
attract his attention, she could see by the vacant eye that sometimes
filled with tears, and the lips that from time to time murmured a
word or two of impatience and complaint, that his thoughts were all
still bent either upon the sad subject of his captivity, or upon the
apprehension of what the future might bring.
At the hour of noon, then, the servant whom the Duke had chosen to
wait upon him, and who was freely admitted to the prison, as well as
a maid to attend upon the Lady Laura, entered the apartment in which
the Duke sat, and announced that the Earl of Byerdale was in the
antechamber. The Duke started up with an expression of joy, ordering
him to be admitted instantly; and the Earl entered, assuming even an
unusual parade of dignity in his step, and contriving to make his
countenance look more than commonly severe and sneering, even though
there was a marked smile upon it, as if he would imply that no slight
pleasure attended his visit to the Duke.
"My dear lord," he said, "I really have to apologize for not having
waited upon you before, but it has been quite impossible. Since the
King's return I have been called upon daily to attend his majesty,
besides having all the usual routine of my office to go through;
otherwise I can assure your grace that I should have been with you
long ago, as both duty and inclination would have prompted me to wait
upon you. I am happy to see you so comfortably lodged here. I was
afraid that, considering the circumstances, they might have judged it
right to debar you of some indulgences; but my lord the governor is a
good-hearted, kindly man.--Lady Laura, how are you? I hope you are
quite well. I grieve, indeed, to see you and your father in this
place; but alas! I had no power to prevent it, and indeed, I fear, I
have very little power to serve you now."
"From your lordship's words," said the Duke, after having habitually
performed the civilities of the apartment--"from your lordship's
words, I fear that you take a bad view of the case, and do not
anticipate my speedy deliverance."
"Oh, you know," answered the Earl, "that the trial must take place
before we can at all judge what the King's mercy may incline him to
do; but I fear, my lord, I fear that a strong prejudice prevails
against your grace. The King, as well may be, is terribly indignant
at all persons concerned with this plot."
"He may well be, indeed," said the Duke; "for nothing ever made me
more indignant than when I first heard of the purposed assassination
and invasion myself. With that I had nothing on earth to do. I should
have hoped that his majesty's indignation on other points would have
subsided by this time, and that clemency would have resumed her sway
towards those who may have acted imprudently but not criminally."
"Not yet, not yet, I fear, my lord," replied the Earl; "six months,
or a year longer, indeed, would have made all the difference. If your
grace had but taken the advice and warning given you by my wise and
virtuous young friend, Wilton, and made your escape at once to
Flanders, or any neutral ground. I am sure I gave you opportunity
enough."
"But, my lord," replied the Duke, "Wilton never gave me any warning
till the very morning that I was arrested. It is true, indeed," he
added, recollecting the circumstances, "poor Wilton and I
unfortunately had a little quarrel on the preceding night, and he
left me very much offended, I believe, and hurt, as I dare say he
told you, my lord."
"Oh, he told me nothing, your grace," replied Lord Byerdale.
"Wilton, knowing my feeling on the subject, very wisely acted as he
knew I should like, or, at least, INTENDED TO ACT as he knew I should
like, without saying anything to me upon the subject. I might very
well remain somewhat wilfully ignorant of what was going on, but I
must not openly connive, you know.--Then it was not really," he
continued, "that your grace refused to go?"
"Oh, not in the least, not in the least!" replied the Duke. "I
received his note early on the next morning, after he left me, and
was consulting with my dear child here as to the necessary
arrangements for going, when the Messengers arrived."
"Most unfortunate, indeed," said the Earl. "I had concluded, judging
from your letter to me on the preceding day, that your grace that
afternoon, notwithstanding all I had said regarding the young
gentleman's family, refused him the honour to which he aspired, and
would not follow the advice he gave."
Lady Laura rose, and moved towards one of the windows; and her
father, with his colour a little heightened, and his manner somewhat
agitated, replied, but in a low tone, "I did indeed refuse him
Laura's hand, and, I am afraid, somewhat harshly and angrily; but I
never refused to take his advice or warning."
"Ay, but the two subjects are so mingled up together," said the Earl,
"that the one may be considered to imply the other."
"I see not how, my lord, I see not how they are so mingled," said the
Duke.
"Ay, it may be difficult to explain," answered the Earl, "and I
cannot do it myself; but so it is. It might not indeed be too late
now, if it were not for this unfortunate prejudice of yourself or
Lady Laura against my young friend, who, I must say, has served you
both well."
"How not too late, my lord?" demanded the Duke, eagerly: "all
prejudices may be removed, you know; and if there were any prejudice,
it was mine."
"Still it would be an obstacle," answered the Earl; "and the whole
matter would of course be rendered much more difficult now. There
might be still more prejudices to be overcome at present.--May I
ask," he added, abruptly, "if you have still got the note which
Wilton sent you?"
"No," answered the Duke, "no. I destroyed it immediately, out of
regard for his safety."
"It was a wise precaution," answered the Earl, "but unnecessary in
his case. He has friends who will manage to justify whatever he does
of that kind. Humble as he is in all his deportment, he can do many
things that I could not venture to do. I have heard the King himself
say, in presence of one half of his council, that he is under great
personal obligations to Wilton Brown."
"Indeed!" exclaimed the Duke; "but may I request your lordship to
inform me what it was you meant just now? You said it might not be
yet too late."
"I fear, my lord, I must not talk to your grace on the subject," said
the Earl; "there might be conditions you would not comply with. You
might not like even the idea of flying from prison at all."
"I do not see why, my lord," exclaimed the Duke, "I really do not see
why. But pray, may I ask what are the conditions?"
"Nay, I make neither any suggestions nor conditions," replied the
Earl, who saw that the Duke was fully worked up to the pitch he
wished, "I only spoke of such a thing as escape being very possible,
if Wilton chose to arrange it; and then of course the conditions he
might require for his services struck my mind."
"Why as yet, my lord," answered the Duke, "our noble young friend has
not even named any condition as the price of his services."
"Perhaps, your grace," replied the Earl, "he may have become wiser by
experience. If I have understood you both right, his hopes were
disappointed, and hopes which he imagined he entertained with great
reason."
"No, my lord, no!" cried the Duke. "He had no reason for entertaining
such hopes. I cannot admit for a moment that I gave him any cause for
such expectations."
"Nay, then, my lord duke," replied the Earl, with an offended look,
"if such be your view of a case which everybody in London sees
differently, the more reason why Wilton should make sure of what
grounds he stands upon before he acts further in this business.
However, I have nothing to do with the affair farther than as his
sincere friend, and as having the honour of being his distant
relation, which of course makes me resolute in saying that I will not
see his feelings sported with and his happiness destroyed. Therefore,
your grace, as we shan't agree, I see, upon these matters, I will
humbly take my leave of you." And he rose, as if to depart.
"Nay, nay, my lord--you are too hasty," replied the Duke. "I beseech
you, do not leave me in this way. I may in former instances have
given Wilton hopes without intending it; but the matter is very much
altered now, when he has done so much more for me in every way. I do
not scruple at all to say that those objections are removed."
"Perhaps, my lord," said the Earl, sitting down again, and speaking
in a low voice, "we had better discuss the matter in private. Could I
not speak to you apart for a moment or two? Suppose we go into the
anteroom."
"Nay, nay," said the Duke, "Laura will leave us.--Go to your room, my
love," he added, raising his voice. "I would fain have a few minutes
conversation with my noble friend alone."
"Very wrong of you, Lord Byerdale," she said, with a smile, as she
walked towards the door, "to turn me out of the room in this way."
Lord Byerdale smiled, and bowed, and apologized, all with an air of
courtier-like mockery. The moment she was gone, however, he turned to
the Duke, saying, "Now, my lord duke, we are alone, and I will beg
your grace to give me your honour that no part of our present
conversation transpires in any circumstances. I can then hold much
more free communication with you. I can lay before you what is
possible, and what is probable, and you can choose whatever path you
like."
"Most solemnly I pledge my honour," replied the Duke, "and I can
assure your lordship that I fully appreciate Mr. Brown's merits and
his services to me. He has not only talents and genius, but a
princely person and most distinguished manners, and I could not have
the slightest objection, as soon as his birth is clearly ascertained
and acknowledged--"
"My lord duke," replied the Earl, interrupting him, "I fear your
lordship is somewhat deceiving yourself as to your own situation and
his. Wilton, I tell you, can easily find the means of effecting your
escape from this prison, and can insure your safe arrival in any
continental port you may think fit to name. I do not mean to say that
I must not shut my eyes; but for his sake and for yours I am very
willing to do so, if I see his happiness made sure thereby."
The Duke's eyes sparkled with joy and hope, and the Earl went on.
"Your situation, my lord, at the present moment, you see, is a very
unfortunate one, or such a step would in no degree be advisable. But
at this period, when the passions of the people and the indignation
of the King are both excited to the highest pitch; when there is, as
I may call it, an appetite for blood afloat; when the three
witnesses, Sir John Fenwick, Smith, and Cook, to say nothing of the
corroborative evidence of Goodman, establish beyond doubt that you
were accessorily, though perhaps not actively, guilty of high
treason--at this period, I say, there can be little doubt that if you
were brought to trial--that is, in the course of next week, as I have
heard it rumoured--the result would be fatal, such, in short, as we
should all deplore."
The Duke listened, with a face as white as a sheet, but only replied,
in a tremulous tone, "But the escape, my lord! the escape!"
"Is quite possible and quite sure," replied the Earl. "I must shut my
eyes, as I have said, and Wilton must act energetically; but I cannot
either shut my eyes or suffer him to do so, except upon the following
precise condition, which is indeed absolutely necessary to success.
It is, that the Lady Laura, your daughter, be his wife before you set
your foot from without these walls."
"But, good heavens, my lord!" exclaimed the Duke--"how is that
possible? I believe that Laura would do anything to save her father's
life; but she is not prepared for such a thing. Then the marriage
must be celebrated with unbecoming haste. No, my lord, oh no! This is
quite impossible. I am very willing to promise that I will give my
consent to their marriage afterwards; but for their marriage to take
place before we go is quite impossible--especially while I am a
prisoner in the Tower of London--quite impossible!"
"I am sorry your grace thinks so," replied the Earl, drily; "for
under those circumstances I fear that your escape from the Tower will
be found impossible also."
A momentary spirit of resistance was raised in the Duke's breast by
feelings of indignation, and he tried for an instant to persuade
himself that his case might not be so desperate as the Earl depicted
it; that in some points of view it might be better to remain and
stand his trial, and that the King's mercy would very likely be
obtained even if he were condemned. But that spirit died away in a
moment, and the more rapidly, because the Earl of Byerdale employed
not the slightest argument to induce him to follow the plan proposed.
"My lord, this is a very painful case," he said, "a very painful
case, indeed."
"It is, Duke," replied the Earl, "it is a painful case; a choice of
difficulties, which none can decide but yourself. Pray do not let
anything that I can say affect you. I thought it right, as an old
friend, to lay before you a means of saving yourself; and no one can
judge whether that means be too painful to you to be adopted, as
nobody can tell at what rate you value life. But you will remember,
also, that forfeiture accompanies the sentence of death in matters of
high treason, and that Lady Laura will therefore be left in a painful
situation."
"Nay, my lord, nay," said the Duke, "if it must come to that, of
course I must consent to any terms, rather than sacrifice everything.
But I did not think Wilton would have proposed such conditions to
me."
"Nor does he, my lord," replied the Earl: "he is totally ignorant of
the whole matter. He has never, even, that I know of, contemplated
your escape as possible. One word from me, however, whispered in his
ear, will open his eyes in a minute. But, my lord, it must be upon
the condition that I mention. Wilton's father-in-law may go forth
from this prison before twelve to-morrow night, but no other prisoner
within it shall, or indeed can."
"Well, my lord, well," replied the Duke, somewhat impatiently, "I
will throw no obstacle in the way. Laura and Wilton must settle it
between them. But I do not see how the matter can be managed here in
a prison."
"Oh, that is easily arranged," replied the Earl--"nothing can be more
easy. There is a chaplain to the Tower, you know. The place has its
own privileges likewise, and all the rest shall be done by me. Am I
to understand your grace, that you consider yourself pledged upon
this subject?"
The Duke thought for a moment, and the images of the trial by his
peers, the block and the axe, came up before his sight, making the
private marriage of his daughter with Wilton, and the escape to
France or Flanders, appear bright in the comparison.
"Well, my lord, well," he said, "I not only pledge myself, but pledge
myself willingly. I always liked Wilton, I always esteemed him
highly; and I suppose he would have had Laura at last, if he did not
have her now."
"I congratulate you on your approaching freedom, Duke," said the
Earl, "and as to the rest, I have told you perfectly true, in saying
that it is not Wilton who makes any conditions with you. He knows
nothing of the matter, and is as eager to set you at liberty without
any terms at all, as you could be yourself to obtain it. You had
better, therefore, let me speak with him on the subject altogether.
Should he come here before he sees me, only tell him that the
marriage is to take place to-morrow evening, that it is all settled
between you and me, and that as to the means of setting you free, he
must talk with me upon the subject. You must then furnish him with
your consent to the immediate marriage under your own hand. After
that is done, he and I will arrange all the rest."
The Duke acquiesced in all that was proposed to him, having once
given his consent to the only step which was repugnant to him to
take. Nay more, that point being overcome, and his mind elevated by
the hope of escape, he even went before Lord Byerdale in suggesting
arrangements which would facilitate the whole business.
"I will tell Laura after you are gone, my lord," he said, "and her
consent will be easily obtained, I am sure, both because I know she
would do anything to save my life, and because I shrewdly
believe--indeed she has not scrupled to admit--that she loves this
young man already. I will manage all that with her, and then I will
leave her and Wilton, and Wilton and your lordship, to make all the
rest of the arrangements."
"Do so, do so," said the Earl, rising, "and I will not fail, my lord,
as soon as you are safe, to use every influence in my power for the
purpose of obtaining your pardon, which will be much more easily
gained when you are beyond the power of the English law, than while
you are actually within its gripe."
The Earl was now about to take his departure, and some more
ceremonious words passed between him and the Duke, in regard to their
leave-taking. Just as the Earl had reached the door, however, a
sudden apprehension seemed to seize the prisoner, who exclaimed,
"Stay, my good lord, stay, one moment more! Of course your lordship
is upon honour with me, as I am with you? There is no possibility, no
probability, of my escape being prevented after my daughter's hand is
given?"
Nothing more mortified the Earl of Byerdale than to find, that,
notwithstanding all his skill, there was still a something of
insincerity penetrated through the veil he cast over his conduct, and
made many persons, even the most easily deceived, doubtful of his
professions and advances.
"I trust your grace does not suspect me of treachery," he said, in a
sharp and offended tone.
"Not in the least, not in the least, my lord," replied the Duke; "but
I understood your lordship to say, that my escape by the means
proposed would be rendered quite certain, and I wish to ascertain
whether I had not mistaken you."
"Not in the slightest degree, my lord duke," replied the Earl. "I
pledge you my honour, that under the proposed arrangements you shall
be beyond the doors of this prison, and at perfect liberty, before
the dawn of day on Monday morning. I pledge myself to you in every
respect, and if it be not so, I will be ready to take your place.
Does this satisfy you?"
"Quite, quite," answered the Duke. "I could desire nothing more." And
the Earl, with a formal bow, opened the door and left him.