CHAPTER XXXIV
The state in which I crawled back to the house after this encountermaybe conceived but not described. From an exaltation of mind to whichthe epithet delirious might be applied with propriety, I fell in aninstant to a depth of abjectness as monstrous as my late felicity, butmore real and reasonable. All the things, on my escape from which Ihad been congratulating myself, now lay before me, and formed a vistaas gloomy as the point to which it tended was dreadful. To be a slaveto the woman and man who had ruined my youth; to live outwardly atease, while inwardly devoured by daily and hourly terror; to hangbetween the choice of danger or baseness, comfort or treachery; todiscern in my own destruction or my patron's the inevitable ending;beyond all, to foresee that I should choose the evil and eschew thegood, and to wish it otherwise and be powerless to change it--thesethings, and particularly the last, filled me with anticipations ofmisery so great that I rolled on my bed, and cursed Providence and myfate; and next day went down so pale, and ill, and woe-begone that theservants took note of it.
"Pheugh, Mr. Price," said Martin, "you might be Charnock himself, orKeyes, poor devil! You could not look more like hanging! What is it?"
I muttered that I was not well.
"It is Keyes I am sorry for," continued the steward, who was takinghis morning draught, "if so be they go to the end with him. I haveheard of a master given up by his servant, but never before of aservant hung on his master's evidence--and his master the one thatdrew him into it! Hang Captain Porter, say I! A fine Captain!"
"Oh, they will let the poor devil live," said another.
"Keyes?"
"Ay."
"Not they!" said Mr. Martin with great appearance of wisdom. "He wasin the Blues, do you see, my man, and if it spread there? No, he willswing. He will swing for the example. Don't you think so, Mr. Price?You are in there with my lord, and should know."
But I muttered something and escaped, finding solitude and my ownreflections as tolerable as their gossip. A little later, my lord,sending for me, kept me close at work until evening; which was so farfortunate, as the employment, by diverting my thoughts, helped to liftme out of the panic into which I had fallen. True, the news that thethree conspirators were found guilty and were to die the followingMonday, exactly as Smith had foretold, threw me again into the coldfit, and heralded another night of misery. But as it is not possiblefor mortals to lie long under the same peril without the sense ofdanger losing its edge, in three days I began to find life bearable.The stateliness of the household, the silence and books thatsurrounded me, the regular hours and steady employment soothed mynerves; and Smith making no sign, and nothing occurring to indicatethat he meant to keep his word or summon me to fulfil mine, I lulledmyself into the belief that all was a dream.
Yet I was very far from being happy: to be that, with suchapprehensions as never quite left me, was beyond my philosophy. And Ihad rude awakenings. One day it was the execution of Charnock, King,and Keyes at Tyburn, followed by the hawking of their last dyingspeeches and confessions in the streets, that jogged me out of myfancied security, and sent me sick and white-faced from the windows.Another it was the sentence on Sir John Friend and Sir WilliamPerkins, the two elderly citizens whom I had twice seen among theplotters, and never without wondering how they came to be of the gang.A little later, three more suffered, and again the Square rang withthe shrill cries of the chapmen who peddled their last speeches fromdoor to door. Against all these Captain Porter and a man commonlycalled "Scum Goodman," both _participes criminis_, and persons of themost infamous character, bore witness; their evidence beingcorroborated by that of a man of higher standing, Mr. Prendergast.Whether they could not prove against Cassel and Ferguson, or reasonsof State intervened, these, with several of their fellows, lay inprison untried; a course which, in other circumstances, might haveinvolved the Government in obloquy. But so keen at this time was thegeneral feeling against the plotters, and so high the King'spopularity that he might have shed more blood had he chosen. Here,however, the executions stopped; and his Majesty showing mercy if notindulgence, the hue and cry, despite the popular indignation,gradually slackened until it was restricted to Sir John Fenwick, whowas believed to be still in hiding in the country, and on whosepunishment the King was reported to be firmly set.
How deeply these events and rumours, which formed the staple ofconversation during the summer of '96, troubled my existence, I leaveto the imagination; provising only that in proportion to the outwardquiet of my life was the power to agitate which they exerted.
Moreover, there were times when a terror more substantial trespassedon my peace. One day going hastily into the hall I found the servantsall peeping, Mr. Martin holding open the door, a dozen faces staringcuriously in from the sunshine of the Square, and my lord standing,very stiff, on the threshold of his room, while in the middle of thefloor stood a scowling man, flashily dressed.
The Duke was speaking when I appeared. "At the office, sir," I heardhim say. "You misunderstood me. I can see you there only."
"Your Grace is hard on me," the man muttered with a glance that wouldbe rebellious, and was hang-dog. "I have done the King good service,and this is the way I am requited. It is enough----"
"It is more than enough. Captain Porter," my lord said, quietly takinghim up. "At the office, if you please. This house is for my friends."
"And the King's friends? They may shift for themselves?" thewretch--who even then wore finery bought with blood--cried bitterly.
"The King is served in many ways," my lord answered with a fine air ofcontempt. "Martin, the door! And remember, another time I am notwithin to Captain Porter. At three in the office, sir, if you please."
The man slunk away at that; but as he passed through the doorway, Iheard him mutter that when Sir John Fenwick was taken he would see;and that proud as some people were now, they might be glad to savetheir necks when the time came. He passed out of sight then, andhearing my lord speak, I turned, and saw Matthew Smith, whom I had notbefore noticed, waiting on him with a letter. The Duke, pausing on thethreshold of the library, broke the seal, and ran his eye over thepaper.
"I will send an answer," he said, "later in the day. Or----" and helooked up quickly. "Are you returning, sir?"
"If your Grace pleases."
"It shall be ready then by two o'clock," my lord answered stiffly."Good-morning."
"Good-morning, your Grace."
And my lord went in. The colloquy had been of the slightest; but I hadnoted that my patron's tone, when he spoke to Smith, was guarded andcivil, if distant, and that through the few formal words they hadexchanged peered a sort of understanding. This shook me; and whenSmith turned to me, a faint sneer on his lips, and told me that I wasa bold man, my heart was water. He was at home here as everywhere;what could I do against him?
"Do you understand, Mr. Price?" he repeated. "Or are you a bigger foolthan I take you for?"
"Why?" I stammered.
"Why? Why, to push in on Porter after that fashion," he muttered underhis breath--for Martin was making towards us. "Lucky he did notrecognize you and denounce you! For a groat he would do it--or tospite the Duke! Take care, man," he continued seriously, "if you donot want to join Charnock, whose head is in airy quarters to-night."
This left me the prey of a new terror; for remembering that I had onceseen Porter at Ferguson's lodging, I could not shut my eyes to thereasonableness of the warning. I saw myself beset by dangers on thatside also, went for a time on eggs, and trembled at every sound;indeed, for a full fortnight I never passed the threshold--excusingmyself on the ground of vertigo, if ordered to go on errands. In thecourse of that fortnight I had a thousand opportunities of contrastingthe quiet in which I lived, behind the dull windows of the greathouse, with the dangers into which I might at any moment be flung; andif any man ever repented of anything, I repented of my lack of candourrespecting Smith. From time to time I saw him pass--grim, reserved, awalking menace. When he looked up at the wind
ows, I read mastery and asecret knowledge in his eye; while the way in which he went and came,free and unquestioned, was itself a monition; was it to be wonderedthat I feared this man, who, while Charnock's head mouldered on aspike on Temple Bar, and Friend and Perkins passed to the gallows,walked the Strand, and lounged in the Mall, as safe in appearance asmy lord himself?
I knew that at any moment he might call upon me to fulfil my word.Whether in that case, the demand being such as to allow me leisure toforecast the consequences, I should have complied, or taking mycourage in my hands, have thrown myself on my lord's indulgence, Icannot now say; for in the issue a sudden and unforeseen shifting ofscene prevented my calculations, and hurried me onwards, whether Iwould or no.
It happened, I have said, suddenly. One afternoon there came a greatbustle in the Square; and who should it be but the Countess, my lord'smother, come to visit him in her coach-and-six, with such aparaphernalia of gentlewomen and negro pages, outriders, and runningfootmen, as drew together all the ragamuffins from the mews, andfairly brought back King Charles's days. As the great coach, whichheld six inside, swung and lumbered to a stand at the door, I saw apainted face, with bold black eyes, glaring from the window, cheek byjowl with a parrot and three or four spaniels; and I waited to seelittle more, a single glance sufficing to certify me that this was thesame lady to whose house Smith had taken me. Smith was in attendanceon her, and a gentleman in a plain black suit and wig--who was aPapist priest if I ever saw one--and Monterey, and two or three othergentlewomen; and, as I had no mind to be recognised by these, or forthat matter, by their mistress, I made haste to retire behind theflock of servants whom Martin had marshalled in the hall to do thehonours.
My lord went out to the coach and brought the Countess in, with agreat show of reverence; and for three-quarters of an hour they werecloseted together in his room. I took advantage of this to retireupstairs, and had been wiser had I stayed there, or better still,slipped out at the back. But a craving came on me to see Montereyagain, and with the knowledge I now had, ascertain if she really wasmy old mistress. This drew me to the hall again, where, the crowdbeing great, and the servants taken up with teasing the Countess'sparrot and blackamoors, I managed to avoid observation, and at thesame time see what I wanted. The woman who had once been all the worldto me--and of whom I could not now think without a tender regret,directed, not to her, but to the state of blissful, dawning passion,of which she had been the cause, and whereof no man is twicecapable--was still handsome in a coarse fashion, and when seen at adistance. I could not deny that. But if I desired revenge, I had it;for not only was her complexion gone, so that her good looks vanishedwhen the viewer approached, but her lips had grown thin, and her facehard, with the indescribable hardness which speaks of past sin longgrown bitter--and an hourly, daily recognition that the wage of sin isdeath.
Presently, while Mr. Martin was pressing his civilities on her, and I,from a corner near the door through which I had let Mary escape, wascuriously reading her countenance, the door of my lord's room opened,and the Countess came out, supported on the one side by the Duke'sarm, on the other by her great ebony cane. The servants hurried toform two lines; and I suppose curiosity led me to press nearer thanwas prudent, or her eyes were of peculiar sharpness; or perhaps shelooked for me, and had I not been there would have called for me. Atany rate, she had not moved three steps towards her coach before hergaze, roving along the line of servants, alighted on me; and shestood.
"I'll have _that_ rascal!" she cried in her high, shrill voice--andshe pointed at me with her cane, and stood. "He looks as if butterwould not melt in his mouth, but if he is not a lad of wax, call me astreet slut! Hark you, my man; you come with me. Bid him, Shrewsbury!"
My lord, his face flushing, spoke low, and seemed to make demur; butshe persisted.
"Odd's life; you make me sick!" she cried irritably. "You will notthis, and you fancy that! The servants---- Go to for a fool! In mytime master was master, and if any blabbed, man or maid, it was stripand whip! But now--do you quarrel with me, or do you not?"
The Duke shrugged his shoulders, and smiled uneasily. "Times aresomewhat changed, madam," he said.
"Ay, by our lord, they are," she cried, swearing roundly. "And why?Because there are no men nowadays, but mealy-mouthed Josephs, likethat trembler yonder, whose heart is in his boots because I want himcarry a message." And she pointed to me with her long cane, while herhead quivered with excitement and age. "Sort him out; sort him out andsend him with me; or we quarrel, my lord."
"Well, madam, your will is law in this house," the Duke said;"but----"
"But no lies!" she cried. "D'ye send him."
My lord bowed reluctantly. "Go," he said, looking at me.
"And bid him do as I tell him," she cried sharply. "But he had better,or---- Still, tell him, tell him."
"Price," my lord said soberly, "the Countess is good enough to wishyou to do an errand for her. Be good enough to consider yourself ather disposal, and go with the coach now. Be easy," he continued,nodding pleasantly--it was impossible for me to hide myapprehensions--"her ladyship needs you for a week only."
"Ay, sure!" she cried. "After that he may go to the devil for me!"