CHAPTER XXII
"It is this way, my lord," he continued after a pause. "Lord Middletonsaid some things over there in your Grace's name--that would be fouryears back; but you never acted on them, though it was whispered youpaid dearly for them here. In the interval it has been the aim of agood many to get something more definite from your Grace; the ratheras you stand almost alone, the main part of the Court, and more thanyou know, having made their peace. But the efforts of those personsfailed with your Grace because they went about it in the wrong way.Now, I, Robert Ferguson," the plotter continued, patting himself onthe chest, and bowing with grotesque conceit, "have gone about it inthe right way; and I shall not fail. The position is this. You musteither arrest the Duke of Berwick, or you must let him go. That isclear. If you do the former, you offend beyond pardon, and your headwill fall at the Restoration, whoever goes clear. On the other hand,if you let the Duke escape and it comes to the Prince of Orange's earsthat you knew of his presence, you will be ruined with your presentparty. The only course left to you, therefore, is to let him go, butto purchase my silence--that it may not reach the Prince's ears--bysigning a few words on a paper, which shall be sealed here, and openedonly by His Majesty in his closet. Now, my lord, what do you say tothat?"
"That you are a fool as well as a knave!" was the Duke's unexpectedreply. He had recovered his equanimity, and took a pinch of snuff ashe spoke.
The plotter's eyes sparkled. "Why?" he cried with an oath. "And isthat language for a gentleman?"
"A gentleman? Faugh!" cried my lord. "And why? Because you supposeyour word to be of value. Whereas you should know that were you to goto Kensington and tell the King that you had informed me of this orthat or the other, and were I to deny it, you would to Newgate forcertain, and to the pillory perhaps--but I should be not a penny theworse. Your word forsooth! Why, man, you are crazed!"
"Ay, but if I had you followed here?" the other answered savagely. "IfI can produce three witnesses to prove that you were with me to-day,and by stealth! And by stealth, my lord? What then?"
"Why, then this!" the Duke answered with composure. "And it is myanswer. I shall go hence to the King and tell him all; and on yourinformation, Mr. Ferguson, the Duke of Berwick will be arrested.Whatever my fate or his after that, I shall have done my duty and keptmy oath as a privy-councillor, and the rest I leave to God! But foryou," he continued, slowly and with solemnity, "who to gain a hold onme have betrayed the son of your King, your fate be on your own head!"
The plotter, who, I think, had expected any answer but this, and, itmay be, had never considered his own position, should the Duke standfirm, roared out a furious "You lie!" And then again in a frenzy, asthe consequences rose more clearly before him, "You lie!" he cried,striking his hand on the table. "You will not do it! You will not dareto do it!"
"Mr. Ferguson," the Duke answered haughtily, "I do not suffer personsof your condition to tell me what I dare, or do not dare; or personsof any condition to give me the lie. Be good enough to open the door!"
"Sign the paper!" the conspirator hissed. His face, at no timesightly, was now distorted by fear and the rage of defeat; while thechair on the back of which he leaned his left hand, jerked this wayand that as if the palsy had him. "Sign the paper, will you? Or yourblood be on your own head!"
The Duke's only answer was to point to the door with his cane. "Openit!" he said, his breath coming a little quickly, but his mannerotherwise unmoved. "Do you hear me?"
But either Ferguson's rage had so much the mastery of him that hecould no longer control himself, or he was desperate, seeing into whatan abyss the other's firmness was pushing him; or from the first hehad determined on this course in the last resort. At any rate at thatword, and instead of complying, he fell back a step and with a darkface drew a pistol from the pocket of his long coat. "Sign!" he cried,his voice whistling in his throat, as he levelled the arm at my lord'shead. "Sign, you Roman spawn, or I'll spill your brains! Sign, or youdon't go out of this room alive! Has the Lord's foot been put on theneck of his enemies that such as you should divide the spoil!"
There was nothing to sign, for he had not produced the paper. But inthe delirium of fear and excitement into which he had fallen, he wasunconscious of this, and of all except that he was in danger offalling into the pit he had digged for another. His hand shook soviolently that every moment I expected the pistol to explode, with hiswill or without it; his fears no less than his despair putting my lordin danger. What he, who stood thus exposed to naked death thought inhis heart while his existence hung on a shaking finger, I can not say,nor if he prayed; for no man talked less of religion, to be, as Itrust he was, a believer; while the pride which supported him in thatcrisis was as powerful to close his lips after the event. "Put thatdown!" was all he said; and met the other's eyes without blenching,though I think that he was a trifle paler than he had been.
"Sign!" answered the madman with an oath.
"Put it down!" repeated the Duke; and doubtless his courage byimposing a restraint on the other's headiness postponed, though itcould not avert, the catastrophe.
For, every second they stood thus fronting one another, Fergusongrinning and gibbering to him to sign, I looked to see the pistolexplode, and my lord fall lifeless. My knees shook under me; horrifiedat this murder to be committed under my eyes, scarce conscious what Idid or would do, I fumbled for the handle of the door--which luckilywas beside me; and found it precisely as the Duke, with a twirl of hiscane, as swift as it was unexpected, knocked the pistol aside andsprang bodily on the villain, striving to bear him down. He had notime to draw his sword.
He was the younger man by twenty years and the more active, if not themore powerful; so that for an instant it seemed to me that the dangerwas over. But I counted without Ferguson; who leaping back before theother could grapple with him, with a nimbleness beyond his years putthe table between them, and levelling the pistol afresh with a snarlof rage, pulled the trigger. The flint snapped harmlessly!
More than that I could not bear, and, by heaven's mercy, the movementhad brought the wretch close to the door at which I stood, and which Ihad that moment opened. As he aimed the pistol a second time, and witha fresh execration, I flung my arms round him from behind, and with myright hand jerked up the pistol; which exploded, bringing down a rushof plaster, and filling the room with smoke and brimstone.
I FLUNG MY ARMS ROUND HIM FROM BEHIND, AND WITH MYRIGHT HAND JERKED UP THE PISTOL]
An interposition so sudden and timely must have been no less asurprise to the Duke than to Ferguson. Nevertheless, the former,without the loss of a moment, flung himself on his antagonist; andseizing the pistol, while I clung to him behind, in a twinkling he hadhim disarmed. Yet, even when this was done, so furious were the man'sstruggles, and so inhuman the strength he displayed (even to bitingand foaming in a fury that could only be called maniacal) that it wasas much as we could both do to conquer him; though we were two to one,and younger. Nor would he be quiet or resign himself to defeat untilwe had him down on his back, with my lord's sword-point at his throat.
Then it was that while we stood over him, panting and trembling withthe exertions we had made, my lord turned his eyes on me. "My friend,"he said, "who are you?"
I could not speak for emotion; and though he was calmer, I could seethat he was deeply stirred, both by the risk he had run, and thenarrowness of his escape. "My lord," I cried, at last, "take me away."
"From here?" he said.
"Yes," I said, "for God's sake, for God's sake, take me away," and Iburst into an uncontrollable fit of sobbing; so overcome was I by whathad happened, and what had almost happened.
He looked at me, his lip twitching a little, and his breast heaving."Be easy, man," he said. "Were you set to watch me?"
"Yes," I said.
"And you heard all?"
"All."
"Who are you?" he said again.
"Two months ago I was an honest man," I answered bitterly, "
and then Igot into _his_ clutches. And he has ridden me. Ah, how he has riddenme!"
"I see," he said, nodding gravely. "Well, his riding days are over.Hark you, Mr. Ferguson," he continued, turning to the prostrate man,who, grovelling before us--I had taken the precaution of tying hishands with my garters--acknowledged his attention by a hollow groan,"I am no thief-taker, and I shall not soil my hands with you. Butwithin an hour the messengers will be here; and if they find you, lookto yourself; for I think that in that case you will indubitably hang.In the meantime I will take your pistol." Then to me, "Come, my man,"he said, "if you wish to go with me."
"I do," I cried.
"Well, I owe you more than that," he answered kindly. "And I need you,besides. Mr. Ferguson, I bid you farewell. You have proved yourself amore foolish man than I thought you. A worse you could not. The best Ican wish you is that you may never see my face again."