Part 13 (1/2)
The Duke rose to his feet.
”I have found no fault with Mr Dale,” said he haughtily and coldly, and, taking no more heed of me, he walked away, while Hudleston, having bestowed on me an angry glance, followed him.
”Mr Dale, Mr Dale!” whispered Arlington, and with no more than that, although still with a smile, he slipped his arm out of mine and left me, beckoning Darrell to go with him. Darrell obeyed with a shrug of despair. I was alone--and, as it seemed, ruined. Alas, why must I blurt out my old lessons as though I had been standing again at my father's knee and not in the presence of the Duke of York? Yes, my race was run before it was begun. The Court was not the place for me. In great bitterness I flung myself down on the cus.h.i.+ons and sat there, out of heart and very dismal. A moment pa.s.sed; then the curtain behind me was drawn aside, and an amused laugh sounded in my ear as I turned. A young man leapt over the couch and threw himself down beside me, laughing heartily and crying,
”Well done, well done! I'd have given a thousand crowns to see their faces!”
I sprang to my feet in amazement and confusion, bowing low, for the young man by me was the Duke of Monmouth.
”Sit, man,” said he, pulling me down again. ”I was behind the curtain, and heard it all. Thank G.o.d, I held my laughter in till they were gone.
The liberties of the Kingdom and the safety of the Reformed Religion!
Here's a story for the King!” He lay back, seeming to enjoy the jest most hugely.
”For the love of heaven, sir,” I cried, ”don't tell the King! I'm already ruined.”
”Why, so you are, with my good uncle,” said he. ”You're new to Court, Mr Dale?”
”Most sadly new,” I answered in a rueful tone, which set him laughing again.
”You hadn't heard the scandalous stories that accuse the Duke of loving the Reformed Religion no better than the liberties of the Kingdom?”
”Indeed, no, sir.”
”And my Lord Arlington? I know him! He held your arm, to the last, and he smiled to the last?”
”Indeed, sir, my lord was most gentle to me.”
”Aye, I know his way. Mr Dale, for this entertainment let me call you friend. Come then, we'll go to the King with it.” And, rising, he seized me by the arm and began to drag me off.
”Indeed your Grace must pardon me----” I began.
”But indeed I will not,” he persisted. Then he suddenly grew grave as he said, ”I am for the liberties of the Kingdom and the safety of the Reformed Religion. Aren't we friends, then?”
”Your Grace does me infinite honour.”
”And am I no good friend? Is there no value in the friends.h.i.+p of the King's son--the King's eldest son?” He drew himself up with a grace and a dignity which became him wonderfully. Often in these later days I see him as he was then, and think of him with tenderness. Say what you will, he made many love him even to death, who would not have lifted a finger for his father or the Duke of York.
Yet in an instant--such slaves are we of our moods--I was more than half in a rage with him. For as we went we encountered Mistress Barbara on Lord Carford's arm. The quarrel between them seemed past and they were talking merrily together. On the sight of her the Duke left me and ran forward. By an adroit movement he thrust Carford aside and began to ply the lady with most extravagant and high-flown compliments, displaying an excess of devotion which witnessed more admiration than respect. She had treated me as a boy, but she did not tell him that he was a boy, although he was younger than I; she listened with heightened colour and sparkling eyes. I glanced at Carford and found, to my surprise, no signs of annoyance at his unceremonious deposition. He was watching the pair with a shrewd smile and seemed to mark with pleasure the girl's pride and the young Duke's evident pa.s.sion. Yet I, who heard something of what pa.s.sed, had much ado not to step in and bid her pay no heed to homage that was empty if not dishonouring.
Suddenly the Duke turned round and called to me.
”Mr Dale,” he cried, ”there needed but one thing to bind us closer, and here it is! For you are, I learn, the friend of Mistress Quinton, and I am the humblest of her slaves, who serve all her friends for her sake.”
”Why, what would your Grace do for my sake?” asked Barbara.
”What wouldn't I?” he cried, as if transported. Then he added rather low, ”Though I fear you're too cruel to do anything for mine.”
”I am listening to the most ridiculous speeches in the world for your Grace's sake,” said Barbara with a pretty curtsey and a coquettish smile.