While I had lived in my lord"s house, and moved to and fro soberly garbed, in a big wig or my own hair, the likeness had been no more than ground for a nudge and a joke among the servants. Now, dressed once more, as Smith had dressed me, in a suit of the Duke"s clothes, and one of his perukes, and trimmed and combed by one who knew him, the resemblance I presented was so remarkable that none of the lords at the table could be blind to it. One or two, in sheer wonder, exclaimed on it; while Sir John, who, poor gentleman, was more concerned than any, fairly gasped with dismay.
It was left to the Duke of Devonshire to break the spell. "What is this? Who is this?" he said, in the utmost astonishment. "What does it mean?"
The King, who had noted on an occasion that very likeness, which all now saw, and was the first to read the riddle, laughed dryly. "Two very common things, my lord," he said, "a rogue and a fool. Speak, man," he continued, addressing me. "You were in the Duke"s household awhile ago? _n"est-ce pas ca?_ I saw you here?"
"Yes, your Majesty," I said, hardly keeping my fears within bounds.
"And you have been playing his part, I suppose? Eh? At--how do you call the place--Ashford?"
"Yes, your Majesty--under compulsion," I said, trembling.
"Ay! Compulsion of that good gentleman at the foot of the table, I suppose?"
The words of a.s.sent were on my lips, when a cry, and an exceeding bitter cry, stayed their utterance. It came from Sir John. Dumbfounded for a time, between astonishment and suspicion, between wonder what this travesty was and wonder why it was a.s.sumed, he had at length discerned its full scope and meaning, and where it touched him. With a cry of rage he threw up his hands in protest against the fraud; then in a flash he turned on the villain by his side. "You d----d scoundrel!" he cried. "You have destroyed me! You have murdered me!"
Before he could be held off, his fingers were in Smith"s neckcloth, and clutching his throat; and so staunch was his hold that Admiral Russell and Sir William Trumball had to rise and drag him away by force. "Easy, easy, Sir John," said the Admiral with rough sympathy.
"Be satisfied. He will get his deserts. Please G.o.d, if I had him on my ship an hour his back should be worse than Oates"s ever was!"
Sir John"s rage and disappointment were painful to witness, and trying even to men of the world. But what shall I say of the fury of the man at bay, who denounced and convicted in his moment of triumph saw, white-faced, his long-spun web swept easily aside? Doubtless he knew, as soon as he saw me, that the game was lost, and could have slain me with a look. And most men would without more ado have been on their knees. But he possessed, G.o.d knows, a courage as rare and perfect as the cause in which he displayed it was vile and abominable; and in a twinkling he recovered himself, and was Matthew Smith once more. While the room rang with congratulations, questions, answers and exclamations, and I had much ado to answer one half of the n.o.ble lords who would examine me, his voice, raised and strident, was heard above the tumult.
"Your Majesty is easily deceived!" he cried, his very tone flouting the presence in which he stood; yet partly out of curiosity, partly in sheer astonishment at his audacity, they turned to listen. "Do you think it is for nothing his Grace keeps a double in his house? Or that it boots much whether he or his Secretary went to meet Sir John? But enough! I have here! here," he continued, tapping his breast and throwing back his head, "that, that shall out-face him; be he never so clever! Does his double write his hand too? Read that, sir. Read that, my lords, and say what you think of your Whig leader!"
And with a reckless gesture, he flung a letter on the table. But the action and words were so lacking in respect for royal chambers that for a moment no one took it up, the English lords who sat within reach disdaining to touch it. Then Lord Portland made a long arm, and taking the paper with Dutch phlegm and deliberation opened it.
"Have I your Majesty"s leave?" he said; and the King nodding peevishly, "This is not his Grace"s handwriting," the Dutch lord continued, pursing up his lips, and looking dubiously at the script before him.
"No, but it is his signature!" Smith retorted, fiercely. And so set was he on this last card he was playing, that his eyes started from his head, and the veins rose thick on his hands where they clutched the table before him. "It is his hand at foot. That I swear!"
"Truly, my man, I think it is," Lord Portland answered, coolly. "Shall I read the letter, sir?"
"What is it?" asked the King, with irritation.
"It appears to be a letter to the Duke of Berwick, at the late Bishop of Chester"s house in Hogsden Gardens, bidding him look to himself, as his lodging was known," Lord Portland answered, leisurely running his eye down the lines as he spoke.
It was wonderful to see what a sudden gravity fell on the faces at the table. This touched some home. This was a hundred times more likely as a charge than that which had fallen through. Could it be that after all the man had his Grace on the hip? Lord Marlborough showed his emotion by a face more than commonly serene; Admiral Russell by a sudden flush; G.o.dolphin by the attention he paid to the table before him. Nor was Smith behindhand in noting the effect produced. For an instant he towered high, his stern face gleaming with malevolent triumph. He thought that the tables were turned.
Then, "In whose hand is the body of the paper?" the King asked.
"Your Majesty"s," Lord Portland answered, with a grim chuckle, and after a pause long enough to accentuate the answer.
"I thought so," said the King. "It was the Friday the plot was discovered. I remember it. I am afraid that if you impeach the Duke, you must impeach me with him."
At that there was a great roar of laughter, which had not worn itself out before one and another began to press their congratulations on the Duke. He for his part sat as if stunned; answering with a forced smile where it was necessary, more often keeping silence. He had escaped the pit digged for him, and the net so skilfully laid. But his face betrayed no triumph.
Matthew Smith, on the other hand, brought up short by that answer, could not believe it. He stood awhile, like a man in a fit; then, the sweat standing on his brow, he cried that they were all leagued against him; that it was a plot; that it was not His Majesty"s hand!
and so on, and so on; with oaths and curses, and other things very unfit for His Majesty"s ears, or the place in which he stood.
Under these circ.u.mstances, for a minute no one knew what to do, each looking at his neighbour, until the Lord Steward, rising from his chair, cried in a voice of thunder, "Take that man away, Mr.
Secretary, this is your business! Out with him, sir!" On which Sir William called in the messengers, and they laid hands on him. By that time, however, he had recovered the will and grim composure which were the man"s best characteristics; and with a last malign and despairing look at my lord, he suffered them to lead him out.
CHAPTER XLVI
That was a great day for my lord, but it was also, I truly believe, one of the saddest of a not unhappy life. He had gained the battle, but at a cost known only to himself, though guessed by some. The story of the old weakness had been told, as he had foreseen it must be told; and even while his friends pressed round him and crying, _Salve Imperator!_ rejoiced in the fall he had given his foes, he was aware of the wound bleeding inwardly, and in his mind was already borne out of the battle.
Yet in that room was one sadder. Sir John, remaining at the foot of the table, frowned along it, gloomy and downcast; too proud to ask or earn the King"s favour, yet shaken by the knowledge that now--now was the time; that in a little while the door would close on him, and with it the chance of life--life with its sunshine and air, and freedom, its whirligigs and revenges. Some thought that in consideration of the trick which had been played upon him, the King might properly view him with indulgence; and were encouraged in this by the character for clemency which even his enemies allowed that Sovereign. But William had other views on this occasion; and when the hubbub which Smith"s removal had caused had completely died away, he addressed Sir John, advising him to depend rather on deserving his favour by a frank and full discovery, than on such ingenious contrivances as that which had just been exposed.
"I was no party to it," the unhappy gentleman answered.
"Therefore it shall tell neither for nor against you," the King retorted. "Have you anything more to say."
"I throw myself on your Majesty"s clemency."
"That will not do. Sir John," the King answered. "You must speak, or--the alternative does not lie with me. But you know it."
"And I choose it," Sir John cried, recovering his spirit and courage.
"So be it," said His Majesty slowly and solemnly. "I will not say that I expected anything less from you. My lords, let him be removed."
And with that the messengers came in and Sir John bowed and went with them. It may have been fancy, but I thought that as he turned from the table a haggard shade fell on his face, and a soul in mortal anguish looked an instant from his eyes. But the next moment he was gone.
I never saw him again. That night the news was everywhere that Goodman, one of the two witnesses against him, had fled the country; and for a time it was believed that Sir John would escape. How, in face of that difficulty those who were determined on his death, effected it; how he was attainted, and how he suffered on Tower Hill with all the forms and privileges of a peer--on the 28th of January of the succeeding year--is a story too trite and familiar to call for repet.i.tion.
On his departure the Council broke up. His Majesty retiring. Before he went, a word was said about me, and some who had greater regard for the _post factum_ than the _p[oe]nitentia_ were for sending me to the Compter, and leaving the Law Officers to deal with me. But my lord, rousing himself, interposed roundly, spoke for me and would have given bail had they persisted. Seeing, however, how gravely he took it, and being inclined to please him, they desisted, and I was allowed to go, on the simple condition that the Duke kept me under his own eye. This he very gladly consented to do.
Nor was it the only kindness he did me, or the greatest; for having heard from me at length and in detail all the circ.u.mstances leading up to my timely intervention, he sent for me a few days later, and placing a paper in my hands bade me read the gist of it. I did so, and found it to be a free pardon pa.s.sed under the Great Seal, and granted to Richard Price and Mary Price his wife for acts and things done by them jointly or separately against the King"s Most Excellent Majesty, within or without the realm.
It was at Eyford he handed me this; in the oak parlour looking upon the bowling-green; where I had already begun to wait upon him on one morning in the week, to check the steward"s accounts and tallies. The year was nearly spent, but that autumn was fine, and the sunlight which lay on the smooth turf blended with the russet splendour of the beech trees that rise beyond. I had been thinking of Mary and the quiet courtyard at the Hospital, which the bowling-green somewhat resembled, being open to the park on one side only; and when perusing the paper, my lord smiling at me, I came to her name--or rather to the name that was hers and yet mine--I felt such a flow of love and grat.i.tude and remembrance overcome me as left me speechless; and this directed, not only to him but to her--seeing that it was her advice and her management that had brought me against my will to this haven and safety.
The Duke saw my emotion and read my silence aright. "Well," he said.
"Are you satisfied?"
I told him that if I were not I must be the veriest ingrate living.
"And you have nothing more to ask?" he continued, still smiling.
"Nothing," I said. "Except--except that which it is not in your lordship"s power to grant."
"How?" said he, with a show of surprise and resentment. "Not satisfied yet? What is it?"
"If she were here!" I said. "If she were here, my lord! But Dunquerque----"
"Is a far cry, eh! And the roads are bad. And the seas----"