He seated himself beside the table and drew off his gloves. He hadtaken absolutely no notice of my respectful salutation.
Mistress Euphrosine sailed out of the room and a moment or two later Mr.Baggs came in, carrying a sheaf of papers and looking very fussy andobsequious.
My Lord did not rise to greet him, only turned his head in his directionand said curtly:
"You are Mr. Theophilus Baggs, Attorney-at-law?"
"At your Lordship's service," replied my employer.
"Brother-in-law of Tom Betterton, the Actor, so I am told," my Lord wenton with quiet condescension.
This innocent remark, however, appeared to upset Mr. Baggs. Hestammered and grew as red as a turkey-cock, not realizing that hisconnection with the great Actor was truly an honour upon his Name. Hehemmed and hawed and looked unutterably foolish, as he mumbledconfusedly:
"Er ... that is ... only occasionally, my Lord ... very occasionally, Imay say ... that is ... I..."
"Pray calm yourself," broke in my Lord haughtily. "I admire thefellow's acting ... the Man himself does not exist for me."
"You are most gracious, my Lord," murmured Mr. Baggs promptly, whilst Icould have struck him for his obsequiousness and his Lordship for hisarrogance.
It seems that the matter which had brought Lord Stour to Mr. Baggs'office was one of monies connected with the winding-up of the affairs ofthe late Earl, uncle of the present Peer. I was busy with my workduring the time that these affairs were being discussed and did not paymuch heed to the conversation. Only two fragments thereof struck mineear. I remember, chiefly because they were so characteristic of the twomen--the Aristocrat and the Plebeian--and of the times in which we live.
At one time Mr. Baggs ventured to enquire after the health of theHonourable Mrs. Stourcliffe, his Lordship's mother; and you should haveheard the tone of frigid pride wherewith my Lord seemed to repel anysuch presumptuous enquiries.
The other fragment which I overheard was towards the end of theinterview, when Mr. Theophilus Baggs, having counted over the Moneybefore his Lordship, placed a Paper before him and bade me bring him apen.
"What's this?" queried my Lord, astonished.
"Oh!" Mr. Baggs stammered, with his habitual humility of demeanour, "amere formality, my Lord ... er ... h'm ... only a ... er ... receipt."
"A receipt?" my Lord asked, with an elevation of his aristocratic brows."What for?"
"Er ... er..." Mr. Baggs stammered. "For the monies, my Lord. That is... er ... if you will deign to count it over yourself ... and see thatit is correct."
At this, my Lord rose from his seat, waved me aside, took and pocketedthe money. Then he said coolly to Mr. Baggs:
"No, Sir; I do not care to count. My Uncle knew You to be honest, or hewould not have placed his affairs in your hands. That is sufficient forme. I, on the other hand, have received the money.... That issufficient for You."
"But----!" ejaculated Mr. Baggs, driven out of his timidity by suchsummary procedure.
"Egad, Sir!" broke in my Lord, more haughtily than before. "Are youperchance supposing that I might claim money which I have already had?"
"No ... no!" protested Mr. Baggs hastily. "I assure you, my Lord ... er... that it is ... h'm ... a mere formality ... and..."
"My word," retorted my Lord coolly, "is sufficient formality."
Whereupon he turned to the door, taking no more notice of me than if Iwere the doormat. He nodded to Mr. Baggs, who was of a truth too deeplyshaken to speak, and with a curt "I wish you good-day, Mr. Notary!"strode out of the room.
I doubt not, Mistress, that You and many others of gentle Manners if notof gentle Birth, would think that in recounting this brief interviewbetween my employer and the young Earl of Stour, I have been guilty ofexaggeration in depicting my Lord's arrogance. Yet, on my word, it alloccurred just as I have told it. No doubt that Mr. Baggs'obsequiousness must have been irritating, and that it literally calledforth the haughty Retort which otherwise might have remained unspoken.I myself, humble and insignificant as I am, have oft felt an almostuncontrollable impulse to kick my worthy Employer into some measure ofmanliness.
For let me assure You that, though subsequently I became more closelyacquainted with my Lord Stour, I never heard him use such haughtylanguage to any of his Dependents, nor do I think that so gentle a Ladyas Lady Barbara Wychwoode would have bestowed her fondness and regardupon him had his Nature been as supercilious and as insolent as hisWords.
5
That afternoon was indeed destined to be fuller of events than I evercould have anticipated. No sooner had I closed the door upon my LordStour, when I heard footsteps ascending the stairs, and then my Lord'svoice raised once more, this time with a tone of pleasure mingled withastonishment.
"Wychwoode, by gad!" he exclaimed. "And what in Heaven's name have youcome to do in the old fox's lair?"
I did not hear the immediate reply. More fussy than ever, Mr. Baggs hadalready signed to me to reopen the door.
"Lord Douglas Wychwoode," he murmured hurriedly in my ear. "One of theyounger sons of the Marquis of Sidbury. I am indeed fortunate to-day.The scions of our great Nobility do seek my help and counsel..." andmore such senseless words did he utter, whilst the two young Gentlemenpaused for a moment upon the landing, talking with one another.
"I thought you still in France," Lord Douglas said to his friend. "Whathath brought you home so unexpectedly?"
"I only arrived this morning," the other replied; "and hoped to presentmy respects this evening, if your Father and the Lady Barbara willreceive me."
"Indeed, they'll be delighted. _Cela va sans dire_, my friend. Mysister has been rather pensive of late. Your prolonged absence may havehad something to do with her mood."
"May you speak the truth there!" my Lord Stour remarked with a sigh.
"But now you have not told me," rejoined Lord Douglas, as he and hisfriend finally went into the room and curtly acknowledged Mr. Baggs'reiterated salutations, "what hath brought you to the house of thisbobbing old Thief yonder."
"Private business," replied Lord Stour. "And you?"
"The affairs of England," said the other, and tossed his head proudlylike some young Lion scenting battle.
Before his friend could utter another remark, Lord Douglas stroderapidly across the room, took some papers out of the inner pocket of hiscoat, and called to Mr. Baggs to come up closer to him.
"I want," he said in a quick and peremptory whisper, "a dozen copies ofthis Deed done at once and by a sure hand. Can you do it?"
"Yes, I think so," replied Mr. Baggs. "May I see what the paper is?"
I was watching the pair of them; so was my Lord Stour. On his facethere came a sudden frown as of disapproval and anxiety.
"Wychwoode----!" he began.
But the other did not heed him. His eyes--which were so like those ofhis Sister--were fixed with an eager, questioning gaze upon my Employer.The latter's face was absolutely expressionless and inscrutable whilsthe scanned the paper which Lord Douglas, after a scarce perceptiblemoment of hesitation, had handed to him for perusal.
"Yes," he said quietly, when he had finished reading. "It can be done."
"At once?" asked Lord Douglas.
"At once. Yes, my Lord."
"By a sure hand?"
"Discretion, my Lord," replied Mr. Baggs, with the first show of dignityI have ever seen him display, "is a virtue in my profession, the failingin which would be a lasting disgrace."
"I rely even more upon your convictions, Mr. Baggs," Lord Douglasrejoined earnestly, "than upon your virtues."
"You and your friends, my Lord, have deigned to talk those matters overwith me many a time before. You and they know that You can count onme."
Mr. Baggs spoke with more Quietude and Simplicity than was his wont whendealing with some of these noble Lords. You may be sure, dear Mistress,that I was vastly astonished at what I heard, still more at what Iguessed. That Mr.
Baggs and his Spouse belonged to the old PuritanParty which had deplored the Restoration of the Kingship, I knew wellenough. I knew that both he and Mistress Euphresine looked withfeelings akin to horror upon a system of Government which had for itssupreme head a King, more than half addicted to Popery and wholly tofast living, with women, gambling and drinking all the day. But what Ihad never even remotely guessed until now was that he had already lent ahelping hand to those numerous Organisations, which had for their objectthe overthrow of the present loose form of Government, if not that ofthe Monarchy itself.
I did not know, in fact, that beneath a weak and obsequious exterior, myEmployer hid the stuff of which dangerous Conspirators are often made.
For the nonce, however, I imagine that he contented himself with writingout Deeds and Proclamations for the more important Malcontents, of whomapparently my Lord Douglas Wychwoode was one. He had never taken meinto his confidence, even though he must have known that he could alwaysrely upon my Discretion. What caused him to trust me now more than hehad done before, I do not know. Perhaps he had come to a final decisionto throw in his lot with the ultra-Protestant party, who viewed withsuch marked disfavour the projects of the King's marriage with thePopish Princess of Portugal. Certain it is that he came to me withoutany hesitation with the Papers which Lord Douglas had just entrusted tohim, and that he at once ordered me to make the twelve copies which hisLordship desired.
I retired within the window-recess which You know so well, and wherein Iam wont to sit at my copying work. Mr. Baggs then set me to my task,after which he drew the screen across the recess, so that I remainedhidden from the view of those who were still in the room. I set to witha Will, for my task was a heavy one. Twelve copies of a Manifesto,which in itself covered two long pages.
A Manifesto, in truth!
I could scarce believe mine eyes as I read the whole rambling, foolish,hot-headed Rigmarole. Did I not have the Paper actually in my hand, hadI not seen Lord Douglas Wychwoode handing it himself over to Mr. Baggs,I could not have believed that any Men in their sober senses could havelent a hand to such criminal Folly.
Folly it was; and criminal to boot!
The whole matter is past History now, and there can be no harm in myrelating it when so much of it hath long ago been made public.
That Manifesto was nothing more or less than an Appeal to certainSympathizers to join in one of the maddest enterprises any man couldconceive. It seems that my Lady Castlemaine's house was to be keptwatched by Parties of these same Conspirators, until one night when theKing paid her one of his customary evening Visits. Then the signal wasto be given, the House surrounded, my Lady Castlemaine kidnapped, HisMajesty seized and forced to abdicate in favour of the young Duke ofMonmouth, who would then be proclaimed King of England, with the Princeof Orange as Regent.
Now, have you ever heard of anything more mad? I assure You that I wasliterally staggered, and as my Pen went wearily scratching over thePaper I felt as if I were in a dream, seeing before me visions of whatthe end of such a foolish Scheme would be: the Hangman busy, the Prisonsfilled, sorrow and desolation in many homes that had hoped to find peaceat last after the turmoil of the past twenty years. For the appealswere directed to well accredited people outside London, some of whomwere connected with the best known Families in the Country. I must, ofcourse, refrain from mentioning names that have been allowed to fallinto oblivion in connection with the affair; but You, dear Mistress,would indeed be astonished if You heard them now.
And what caused me so much worry, whilst I wrote on till my hand feltcramped and stiff, was mine own Helplessness in the matter. What couldI do, short of betraying the trust which was reposed in me?--and this,of course, was unthinkable.
I wrote on, feeling ever more dazed and dumb. From the other side of thescreen the Voices of the two young Gentlemen came at times to mine earwith unusual clearness, at others only like an intermittent hum. Mr.Baggs had apparently left the room, and the others had no doubt becomewholly oblivious of my Presence. Lord Douglas Wychwoode had told hisFriend something of his madcap Schemes; his voice sounded both eager andenthusiastic. But my Lord Stour demurred.
"I am a Soldier," he said at one time; "not a Politician."
"That's just it!" the other argued with earnestness. "It is Men likeyou that we want. We must crush that spendthrift Wanton who holds theKing in her thrall, and we must force a dishonoured Monarch to give upthe Crown of England to one who is worthier to wear it, since hehimself, even in these few brief months, has already covered it withinfamy."
"You have set yourself a difficult task, my friend," my Lord Stour urgedmore soberly; "and a dangerous one, too."
"Only difficult and dangerous," retorted Lord Douglas, "whilst such Menas you still hold aloof."
"I tell you, I am no Politician," his Friend rejoined somewhatimpatiently.
"But You are a Man, and not a senseless profligate--an earnestProtestant, who must loathe that cobweb of Popery which overlies theKing's every Action, and blurs his vision of duty and of dignity."
"Yes--but----"
Then it was that Lord Douglas, with great patience and earnestness, gaveto his Friend a detailed account of his criminal Scheme--for criminal itwas, however much it might be disguised under the cloak of patriotismand religious fervour. How Lord Stour received the communication, Icould not say. I had ceased to listen and was concentrating my mind onmy uncongenial task. Moreover, I fancy that Lord Stour did not saymuch. He must have disapproved of it, as any right-minded Man would,and no doubt tried his best to bring Lord Douglas to a more rationalstate of mind. But this is mere conjecture on my part, and, of course,I could not see his face, which would have been a clear index to histhoughts. At one time I heard him exclaim indignantly:
"But surely You will not entrust the distribution of those Manifestos,which may cost you your head, to that obsequious and mealy-mouthednotary?"
Mr. Baggs should have heard the contempt wherewith my Lord uttered thosewords! It would have taught him how little regard his servile ways hadwon for him, and how much more thoroughly would he have been respectedhad he adopted a more manly bearing towards his Clients, however highlythese may have been placed.
After this, Lord Douglas Wychwoode became even more persuasive andeager. Perhaps he had noted the first signs of yielding in the Attitudeof his Friend.
"No, no!" he said. "And that is our serious trouble. I and those whoare at one with me feel that we are surrounded with spies. We do want asure Hand--a Hand that will not err and that we can trust--to distributethe Manifestos, and, if possible, to bring us back decisive Answers.Some of the Men with whom we wish to communicate live at someconsiderable distance from town. We only wish to approach influentialpeople; but some of these seldom come to London; in fact, with theexception of the Members of a venal Government and of a few effete Peersas profligate as the King himself, but few Men, worthy of the name, doelect to live in this degenerate City."
His talk was somewhat rambling; perhaps I did not catch all that hesaid. After awhile Lord Stour remarked casually:
"And so You thought of me as your possible Emissary?"
"Was I wrong?" retorted Lord Douglas hotly.
"Nay, my friend," rejoined the other coldly. "I am honoured by thistrust which You would place in me; but----"
"But You refuse?" broke in Lord Douglas with bitter reproach.
I imagine that my Lord Stour's reply must have been an unsatisfactoryone to his Friend, for the latter uttered an exclamation of supremeimpatience. I heard but little more of their conversation just then, forthe noise in the Street below, which had been attracting my Attention onand off for some time, now grew in intensity, and, curious to know whatit portended, I rose from my chair and leaned out of the window to seewhat was happening.
From the window, as You know, one gets a view of the corner of ourStreet as it debouches into Fleet Street by the _Spread Eagle_ tavern,and even the restricted View which I thus had showed me at once
thatsome kind of rioting was going on. Not rioting of an ordinary kind, forof a truth we who live in the heart of the City of London are used toits many cries; to the "Make way there!" of the Sedan Chairman and the"Make room there!" of the Drivers of wheel-barrows, all mingling withthe "Stand up there, you blind dog!" bawled by every Carman as he triesto squeeze his way through the throngs in the streets.
No! this time it seemed more than that, and I, who had seen the crowdswhich filled the Streets of London from end to end on the occasion ofthe death of the Lord Protector, and had seen the merry-makers who hadmade those same streets impassable when King Charles entered London alittle more than a year ago, I soon realized that the Crowd which I sawflocking both up and down Fleet Street was in an ugly mood.
At first I thought that some of those abominable vagabonds fromWhitefriars--those whom we call the Alsatians, and who are in perpetualconflict with the law--had come out in a body from their sink ofiniquity close by and had started one of their periodical combats withthe Sheriffs' Officers; but soon I recognized some faces familiar to meamong the crowd as they ran past the corner--Men, Women and Boys who,though of a rough and turbulent Character, could in no way be confoundedwith the law-breaking Alsatians.
There was, for instance, the Tinker, whom I knew well by sight. He wasrunning along, knocking his skillets and frying-pans against one anotheras he passed, shouting lustily the while. Then there was a sootychimney-sweep, whom I knew to be an honest Man, and the broom Men withtheir Boys, and many law-abiding Pedestrians who, fearful of the crowd,were walking in the traffic way, meekly giving the wall to the moreroisterous throng. They all seemed to be a part of that same Crowdwhich was scampering and hurrying up and down Fleet Street, shouting andcausing a disturbance such as I do not remember ever having seen before.