THE JUDGMENT OF THE KING
It came about in this wise. I had been taken away by myself into an
empty chamber, which was carefully guarded. Not that I was treated
rudely. Rather marked respect was paid to me, and I lacked nothing which
any man might desire. Nevertheless I had thought much of the scene
through which I had been passing, and what it all portended. I could not
help realizing that the king had dismissed us very abruptly, and that
sore displeasure had rested upon his face as I had spoken. As for
Constance, her condition troubled me more than my own. I had noted the
look in the king's eyes as he had watched her, and remembering what men
said concerning him, I feared much. I determined however that no harm
should happen to her, whatever might befall, for did I not love her with
all my heart, and had I not told her of my love? Moreover I had promised
that I would protect her, and as I thought of this, even prison walls
became as nought to me. It was while I was scheming how I should fulfil
my promise to her that a lackey entered the room and bade me follow him.
This I did like a man in a dream, for a great silence had fallen upon
the king's palace, and everything appeared grim and ghostly. He led me
through long corridors, and tortuous ways, so that without a guide I
doubt if I could ever have found my way back to the room from which I
had come. Presently, however, I heard the sound of distant laughter, and
the noise of songsters, then as some intervening wall kept these sounds
from reaching me, I passed by an open window, and heard the
nightingales singing amongst the trees close by.
The lackey spoke no word, neither good nor bad, to me. I thought he
looked sleepy, and would gladly have gone to his rest. Perhaps this was
true, for it was rumoured that the king kept strange hours, and expected
peculiar service at the hands of his servingmen.
Presently I stood in a little ante-chamber, where I was bidden to wait
until it was the king's pleasure to see me, and here I waited I should
think a full hour. The first part of the time was weary enough, but the
second part passed like a flash of light, and this was because, even
although I had tried not to listen, I had to hear that which interested
me past words.
Evidently I was close to the apartment where the king was, for every
word he spoke reached me with great plainness; but it was not his voice
which thrilled my heart, it was anothers, as I shall soon have to tell.
"I pray thy pardon, pretty maid," I heard Charles say. "I know thou hast
had a long day's ride, and must be aweary, but I felt I could not sleep
until I had speech with thee again."
"I have nothing to say to Your Majesty," replied the voice of Constance.
"But I have much to say to thee, fair Constance. It is not oft that even
a king beholds one so fair, or hears one whose speech is so pleasing.
Besides, it will be to thine interest to listen to me, and to regard my
proposals favourably."
The king's voice was, as I thought, thick with much wine, and I fancied
I could see the evil leer in his black beady eyes as he spoke.
"I have brought thee here to-night," he went on, "so that I may tell
thee of many things. And first, I desire that thou shouldst tell me what
thou didst refuse but a few hours since. Where is this Puritan sister of
thine?"
"And if I told Your Majesty?"
"Ah, pretty Constance, if it had been thee--well I fear thou wouldst
have too lenient a judge. But thy sister is the wife of Denman, a man
whose immediate arrest I have commanded. A bitter, sour-faced, lying
Puritan, a man who took a leading part in the murder of my father. And
this sister of thine, well she tried to kill the man who sought to bring
me back to my kingdom. That is not easy to forgive. Had it been thy
little hand which would have done this, I should e'en have laughed at
Monk's dour face, and forgiven. And yet I must not forget. Thou hast
shielded thy sister; thou hast kept her from punishment, and
therefore--well, unless--but let me think----"
"I have decided to forgive thee on two conditions," he went on
presently.
"And they, Your Majesty?"
"The first is that thou wilt tell me where this sister of thine is. The
second will, I trust, be pleasing to thee, for surely the king's smile,
and the king's companionship should----"
"Pardon me, Your Majesty," cried Constance, "but there is no need to
speak of the second condition since I will never accept the first."
"You will not tell me where your sister is?"
"No, Your Majesty."
The king laughed. "I must e'en find out without your telling," he said.
"You never can;" and there was defiance in her voice.
"Ah!"
I noted the anger in his voice, and I forgot that I was listening to
conversation which the king never intended should reach my ears, so
eager was I to know what would follow.
"It is said that I am of an easy temper," he went on presently, "and it
is hard to be angry in the presence of one so fair. Yet must the king be
obeyed. So be sure of this, pretty Constance. I will e'en find the
whereabouts of your sister. As for your father, he is already under
arrest, and it will depend on you as to whether he goes to the gallows
with the rest of my father's murderers, or whether he hold his head high
in the state."
"On me, Your Majesty?"
"Ay, on you, pretty Constance." And then he said words which I will not
write down, so base were they.
"Of this be assured," he went on, and it was easy to see that wine had
unloosed his tongue, and driven away his judgement. "I will give no
quarter to these canting Puritans. Neither for that matter will I bestow
any favour upon these Presbyterians. I will have only such religion in
my realm as I please. Not that I am much wedded to religion at all,
especially that of the stern and strict nature. But this I know, it is
to the Episcopals that I owe my crown, and it was they who fought for my
father during the rebellion. Depend upon it, therefore, I will make
short shrift of these hot-gospellers, and I will see to it that only
those who are loyal to the crown shall be tolerated."
"Then Your Majesty's promises will go for nothing!" And there was a
sting of scorn in Constance's tones, as well as in her words.
The king laughed. "A man makes reservations even in his promises," he
said, "and think not that I am going to allow my father's murderers to
go around stirring up dissension, or hot-gospellers to preach rebellion.
Nay, you will soon see. The Puritans had no mercy, and _Grand Dieu_
neither will I!"
At this there was silence.
"So, fair Constance, I beseech you for your own sake to--to be obedient
to my wishes, and----"
"Will Your Majesty be pleased to forgive me," cried Constance. "It ill
becomes me to boast, but I am not afraid of death, and so I beseech Your
Majesty to mete out my punishment without delay."
"You mean that----"
"It would be better for me to die than that my father's child should
turn traitor or coward."
At this I could not help giving expression to my gladness; indeed so
loud was the sound that escaped my lips that the king heard me.
"Who is there?" he cried angrily.
A minute later I was brought into the room where the king was. I saw
that his usually pale face had become of a purplish hue, while his slits
of eyes shot an angry light.
"How now sirrah!" he cried, as I stood before him, "hast thou heard
aught of the conversation between me and this maid?"
"I heard it all, sire."
For a moment he did not speak, gazing first at Constance and then at
me. I also cast a hasty glance at the woman I loved, and in spite of my
helplessness my heart rejoiced. Her face was pale, but she showed no
fear, rather there was a look of confidence in her eyes, and an
expression of unalterable determination.
Whether Charles II. realized this I know not, but I saw he was in no
humour to be played with. Perchance this was the first time his will had
been opposed since he had come back to England, for since that day I had
first seen him at Dover he had received little but fulsome adulation.
"Thou hast heard all!"
"All, sire," I replied steadily, for now I felt no scrap of fear. For
let who will say otherwise, Charles II., although King of England, was
not a man to inspire reverence or awe. He looked cunning rather than
thoughtful, sensuous rather than noble; one who, if he was kind, was
kind because it was less troublesome than to be cruel. He did not
impress me with his kingly presence, rather I thought of him even then
as a weak despot.
He seemed to hesitate a moment as if to recall the conversation which
had taken place between himself and Constance, and then as if he
realized that nought of great importance was said, his brow cleared and
a look of resolution came into his eyes.
"Thou knowest then that this maid, Mistress Constance Leslie, hath again
refused to obey her king?"
"Yes, sire."
"But, mark you, I will know the truth. Look you, young sir, I judged
that you know where her sister is. Speak the truth. I can detect a lie a
mile away."
"I will tell you no lies, sire!"
"Then I repeat the question, 'Do you know where this maid's sister is?'"
"No, sire."
"But you can make a shrewd guess? Come, yes or no. You believe you know
where she is?"
"Yes," I made answer.
"Ah, that is good. And now we will see, Mistress Constance, who is
master. Now we will see whether the king will not have his way." And
then again he said that which I will not write down.
Surely, I have told myself since, he must have been brutalized by too
much wine, or he would never have spoken as he did, for his speech was
that of a villain in a fourth rate stage play, rather than of one in
whose veins ran royal blood.
"I cannot get at you through your father," he said to her, "but I can
and will through your sister. You care nothing for the old
hot-gospeller; well, I can forgive you for that. But this sister of
yours, well, you have suffered much for her already, and would suffer
more. Ah, yes, pretty Constance, I see through you. To avert suspicion
from her you have e'en gone abroad as the wife of this Denman; you have
fetched and carried for him like a dog. Well, now, to save her, you
shall e'en do as much and more for your king. For if you will not, I
will make this sister of thine--but I will not speak of that now. You
will be wise, and do my will. Now then, Master Roland Rashcliffe, you
say you can shrewdly guess where this other daughter of John Leslie is.
Tell me, I command you."
The king was gazing eagerly at me as he spoke, but instead of returning
his look I turned for a moment towards Constance, and I saw that her
eyes were imploring me not to speak. But there was no confidence in them
now; rather there was a great fear. She could depend on her own
fortitude, but not on mine.
"I trust Your Majesty will not insist on this," I said.
"And why, Master Malapert?"
"Because I cannot obey your command."
He took a step towards me as if in anger, but he stopped suddenly, and
then I saw a change come over his face. The old cunning leer came back
to his eyes again, the wine-inflamed, passionate man had gone, and
instead I saw the cynical mocking man I had seen land at Dover.
He sat down on a low chair, and began to fondle his lap-dog, glancing at
us both curiously as he did so.
"I am indeed fortunate," he said. "Mostly my servants say they will obey
me, and then seek to have their own will, while you say you will not
obey me and will have to do so in spite of all. Moreover, this youth
said he had no favour to ask at my hands. Well, and what game are you
playing, young master?"
"I am trying to be an honest man," I replied.
"Prithee come a little closer, for surely thou art a rare sight," he
said. "For twelve years I have been trying to find an honest man and a
virtuous woman, and up to now I have discovered neither."
"And yet your mother is alive, sire," I said.
Again his eyes flashed fire, and I thought he was going to call his
servants, and order that I should be thrown in some dungeon. But again
he mastered himself.
"I have not made up my mind whether I shall give you the cap and bells,
or send you to the most stinking dungeon in Fleet Prison, Master
Rashcliffe," he said quietly. "But of that anon; at present I am vastly
enjoying myself. There is some reason in your mind which makes you think
you can answer your king as you have answered him. You fancy you have
some secret power over him. Come now, speak!"
"That need not be Your Majesty. I was ever taught that a man's duty was
to protect a woman."
Again he eyed me keenly, and presently he laughed quietly.
"Ah, I see," he said; "now I understand. You have cast eyes on this
pretty Constance, and seek to gain her favour by this means. I thought I
should discover your motive. What! she hath looked coldly on you, eh,
and now you seek to win her favour. Ay, and what more likely to do this
than to stand by her in her difficulty! Is a man likely to do aught but
for self? Tell me, do you expect to win the fair Constance's love?"
"Nay; I do not expect that," I replied.
"Ah, I see; but you hope, eh--you hope?" and again he laughed.
"Well, and why not, Master Rashcliffe? The king is still king in spite
of these accursed Puritans; and I tell you this, Charles II. will not be
ungrateful to loyal servants. General Monk is now Duke of Albermarle, is
he not?"
I was silent, for why should I speak?
"Now then, suppose I promise to look favourably on this match, will you
tell me where you believe this maid's sister is? Mark you, it will make
no difference whether you tell me or no, for I mean to find her, if
every house in England hath to be searched from cellar to cock-loft.
Now, will you tell me?"
"No, sire."
"Ah, then there is some other thought at the back of your brain. But
mind, you are both making a whip for your own backs. It is not often I
am so patient as to-night, so tempt me not too far."
At this neither of us spoke, while Charles Stuart began to play with the
ribbon around his dog's neck.
"What have you to say?"
"Nothing, sire."
"Yes, there is something. Three hours ago thou didst mention the name of
Katharine Harcomb. What did she tell thee?"
"Of that which I have since seen, Your Majesty," I said boldly.
"Ah--and what is that?"
"That which if made known would alter the history of the nation, sire."
"Where is it?" he cried, as if forgetting himself.
"I do not know," I replied like a fool, for the moment I had spoken the
words, I realized that I had thrown down the only weapon by which I
could defend myself.
The king laughed again quietly.
"You are only fit for the cap and bells after all," he said quietly;
"just the cap and bells. Still, a fool may be dangerous if you put a
pistol in his hands, so the best way is to keep him out of harm."
"But others know where it is!" I cried, for his words made me angry.
"Who?" he cried.
I was silent.
"Tell me," he commanded, but I could not speak. For who was the old man
of Pycroft? Where was he now? At that moment all I had seen seemed but a
Jack-o'-Bedlam story, at which a cunning man like the king would laugh.
He seemed to hesitate what to do, but presently he rose and pulled a
bell-rope, and before it ceased ringing the woman who had earlier in the
evening accompanied Constance entered the room, while I saw two male
lackeys at the door.
The king gave some commands in a low voice, whereupon she prepared to
lead Constance away. My heart fell at this, for while I was brave and
confident in her presence, my courage ebbed away at the thought of her
leaving me. And yet it was not for myself that I feared, but for her. A
great dread came into my heart concerning the indignities which I
believed the king would place upon her, for I had heard his words, I had
seen the look in his black beady eyes. But I could do nothing. I had to
stand still while she left the room, and yet on her leaving I felt my
heart grow warm with joy. And no wonder, for as she walked away, she
turned around, and her eyes met mine, and then, although she never spoke
a word of love to me, I knew that I did not love her in vain.
Let the king do his worst now, I did not fear, for I had a strength and
a joy of which he knew nothing.
No sooner had the door closed than the king's mood changed again.
"Now then we will speak plainly, Master Malapert," he said. "You know
where this maid's sister is?"
At this I was silent, for surely there was no need of speech.
"Well, it doth not matter whether you speak or no, that is as far as it
concerneth me. As for you, it mattereth much. But there is the other
matter; tell me what you know concerning that?"
Whether I was wise or no I will not try to say, but I told him what I
had seen.
"You say you saw this contract?"
"Yes, sire, I saw it."
"Signed by me?"
"The name of Charles Stuart was affixed to it."
He took a pen from a table and scribbled hastily on a piece of paper.
"Like that?" he asked.
"A facsimile of that, sire," I replied.
For a time he was silent, and he took several turns up and down the
room, as though he were thinking.
"You knew of this when I arrived at Dover?"
"Yes, sire."
"And when you went to the place again?"
"It was gone as I have told you, sire."
"You believe the old man hath it?"
"Yes, sire."
"And you have a suspicion where he is now?"
At this I was silent, for what could I say. I believed that he was at
Goodlands, the house of John Leslie, and that his discovery would mean
the discovery of Constance's sister, the sister whom she was ready to
shield with her own life. Therefore, in spite of all the king's
commands, I held my peace, never by so much as a word or a suggestion
making known my thoughts.
Again the king grew angry, and he threatened not the wife of Sir Charles
Denman, but Constance with a doom at which any honest woman must
shudder, but even then I could not speak, for if ever a woman's eyes had
commanded a man to be silent Constance's had commanded me. Besides, I
had no faith in the man before me. The promises he made to-day would be
broken at the very moment it pleased his fancy.
And yet I believed that the king was not altogether displeased with me,
for even as he gave his commands concerning me he said--
"An honest man is a good thing, Master Rashcliffe, but when he is a fool
he must be e'en treated as a danger."
Before the sun which was now rising went down, I was in a foul dungeon
in Fleet Prison.