Part 66 (1/2)

”His admiration for that lady,” continued the King, ”has been shared by such high and honourable persons that I cannot doubt it to be well founded. Shall he not then be her husband?”

Monmouth's eyes were fixed on me; I met his glance with an easy smile.

Again I felt that I, who had worsted M. de Perrencourt, need not fear the Duke of Monmouth.

”If there be any man,” observed Rochester, ”who would love a lady who is not a wife, and yet is fit to be his wife, let him take her, in Heaven's name! For he might voyage as far in search of another like her as M. de Fontelles must in his search for a Perfect King.”

”Shall he not have her, James?” asked the King of his son.

Monmouth understood that the game was lost.

”Ay, Sir, let him have her,” he answered, mustering a smile. ”And I hope soon to see your Court graced by her presence.”

Well, at that, I, most inadvertently and by an error in demeanour which I now deplore sincerely, burst into a short sharp laugh. The King turned to me with raised eye-brows.

”Pray let us hear the jest, Mr Dale,” said he.

”Why, Sir,” I answered, ”there is no jest. I don't know why I laughed, and I pray your pardon humbly.”

”Yet there was something in your mind,” the King insisted.

”Then, Sir, if I must say it, it was no more than this; if I would not be married in Calais, neither will I be married in Whitehall.”

There was a moment's silence. It was broken by Rochester.

”I am dull,” said he. ”I don't understand that observation of Mr Dale's.”

”That may well be, my lord,” said Charles, and he turned to Monmouth, smiling maliciously as he asked, ”Are you as dull as my lord here, James, or do you understand what Mr Dale would say?”

Monmouth's mood hung in the balance between anger and amus.e.m.e.nt. I had crossed and thwarted his fancy, but it was no more than a fancy. And I had crossed and thwarted M. de Perrencourt's also; that was balm to his wounds. I do not know that he could have done me harm, and it was as much from a pure liking for him as from any fear of his disfavour that I rejoiced when I saw his kindly thoughts triumph and a smile come on his lips.

”Plague take the fellow,” said he, ”I understand him. On my life he's wise!”

I bowed low to him, saying, ”I thank your Grace for your understanding.”

Rochester sighed heavily.

”This is wearisome,” said he. ”Shall we walk?”

”You and James shall walk,” said the King. ”I have yet a word for Mr Dale.” As they went he turned to me and said, ”But will you leave us? I could find work for you here.”

I did not know what to answer him. He saw my hesitation.

”The basket will not be emptied,” said he in a low and cautious voice.

”It will be emptied neither for M. de Perrencourt nor for the King of France. You look very hard at me, Mr Dale, but you needn't search my face so closely. I will tell you what you desire to know. I have had my price, but I do not empty my basket.” Having said this, he sat leaning his head on his hands with his eyes cast up at me from under his swarthy bushy brows.

There was a long silence then between us. For myself I do not deny that youthful ambition again cried to me to take his offer, while pride told me that even at Whitehall I could guard my honour and all that was mine.

I could serve him; since he told me his secrets, he must and would serve me. And he had in the end dealt fairly and kindly with me.