saw a singular scene. Your niece terrified little Chiffinch—(the hen Chiffinch, I mean)—bid the King defiance to his teeth, and walked out of the presence triumphantly, under the guardianship of a young fellow of little mark or likelihood, excepting a tolerable personal presence, and the advantage of a most unconquerable impudence. Egad, I can hardly help laughing to think how the King and I were both baffled; for I will not deny, that I had tried to trifle for a moment with the fair Indamora. But, egad, the young fellow swooped her off from under our noses, like my own Drawcansir clearing off the banquet from the two Kings of Brentford. There was a dignity in the gallant's swaggering retreat which I must try to teach Mohun;[24] it will suit his part admirably.'
'This is incomprehensible, my Lord Duke,' said Christian, who by this time had recovered all his usual coolness; 'you cannot expect me to believe this. Who dared be so bold as to carry of my niece in such a manner, and from so august a presence? And with whom, a stranger as he must have been, would she, wise and cautious as I know her, have consented to depart in such a manner?—My lord, I cannot believe this.'
'One of your priests, my most devoted Christian,' replied the Duke, 'would only answer, Die, infidel, in thine unbelief; but I am only a poor worldling sinner, and I will add what mite of information I can. The young fellow's name, as I am given to understand, is Julian, son of Sir Geoffrey, whom men call Peveril of the Peak.'
'Peveril of the Devil, who hath his cavern there!' said Christian warmly; 'for I know that gallant, and believe him capable of anything bold and desperate. But how could he intrude himself into the royal presence? Either Hell aids him, or Heaven looks nearer into mortal dealings than I have yet believed. If so, may God forgive us, who deemed he thought not on us at all!'
'Amen, most Christian Christian,' replied the Duke. 'I am glad to see thou hast yet some touch of grace that leads thee to augur so. But Empson, the hen Chiffinch, and half-a-dozen more, saw the swain's entrance and departure. Please examine these witnesses with your own wisdom, if you think your time may not be better employed in tracing the fugitives. I believe he gained entrance as one of some dancing or masking party. Rowley, you know, is accessible to all who will come forth to make him sport. So in stole this termagant tearing gallant, like Samson among the Philistines, to pull down our fine scheme about our ears.'
'I believe you, my lord,' said Christian; 'I cannot but believe you; and I forgive you, since it is your nature, for making sport of what is ruin and destruction. But which way did they take?'
'To Derbyshire, I should presume, to seek her father,' said the Duke. 'She spoke of going into paternal protection, instead of yours, Master Christian. Something had chanced at Chiffinch's, to give her cause to suspect that you had not altogether provided for his daughter in the manner which her father was likely to approve of.'
'Now, Heaven be praised,' said Christian, 'she knows not her father is come to London! and they must be gone down either to Martindale Castle, or to Moultrassie Hall; in either case they are in my power—I must follow them close. I will return instantly to Derbyshire—I am undone if she meet her father until these errors are amended. Adieu, my lord. I forgive the part which I fear your Grace must have had in baulking our enterprise—it is no time for mutual reproaches.'
'You speak truth, Master Christian,' said the Duke, 'and I wish you all success. Can I help you with men, or horses, or money?'
'I thank your Grace,' said Christian, and hastily left the apartment.
The Duke watched his descending footsteps on the staircase, until they could be heard no longer, and then exclaimed to Jerningham, who entered, '
'Your Grace holds his wisdom very high,' said the attendant.
'His cunning, at least, I do, which, in Court affairs, often takes the weather-gage of wisdom,—as in Yarmouth Roads a herring-buss will baffle a frigate. He shall not return to London if I can help it, until all these intrigues are over.'
As his Grace spoke, the Colonel, after whom he had repeatedly made inquiry, was announced by a gentleman of his household. 'He met not Christian, did he?' said the Duke hastily.
'No, my lord,' returned the domestic, 'the Colonel came by the old garden staircase.'
'I judged as much,' replied the Duke; ''tis an owl that will not take wing in daylight, when there is a thicket left to skulk under. Here he comes from threading lane, vault, and ruinous alley, very near ominous a creature as the fowl of ill augury which he resembles.'
The Colonel, to whom no other appellation seemed to be given, than that which belonged to his military station, now entered the apartment. He was tall, strongly built, and past the middle period of life, and his countenance, but for the heavy cloud which dwelt upon it, might have been pronounced a handsome one. While the Duke spoke to him, either from humility or some other cause, his large serious eye was cast down upon the ground; but he raised it when he answered, with a keen look of earnest observation. His dress was very plain, and more allied to that of the Puritans than of the Cavaliers of the time; a shadowy black hat, like the Spanish sombrero; a large black mantle or cloak, and a long rapier, gave him something the air of a Castilione, to which his gravity and stiffness of demeanour added considerable strength.
'Well, Colonel,' said the Duke, 'we have been long strangers—how have matters gone with you?'
'As with other men of action in quiet times,' answered the colonel, 'or as a good war-caper[25] that lies high and dry in a muddy creek, till seams and planks are rent and riven.'
'Well, Colonel,' said the Duke, 'I have used your valour before now, and I may again; so that I shall speedily see that the vessel is careened, and undergoes a thorough repair.'
'I conjecture, then,' said the Colonel, 'that your Grace has some voyage in hand?'
'No, but there is one which I want to interrupt,' replied the Duke.
'Tis but another stave of the same tune.—Well, my lord, I listen,' answered the stranger.
'Nay,' said the Duke, 'it is but a trifling matter after all.—You know Ned Christian?'
'Ay, surely, my lord,' replied the Colonel, 'we have been long known to each other.'
'He is about to go down to Derbyshire to seek a certain niece of his, whom he will scarcely find there. Now, I trust to your tried friendship to interrupt his return to London. Go with him, or meet him, cajole him, or assail him, or do what thou wilt with him—only keep him from London for a fortnight at least, and then I care little how soon he comes.'
'For by that time, I suppose,' replied the Colonel, 'any one may find the wench that thinks her worth the looking for.'
'Thou mayst think her worth the looking for thyself, Colonel,' rejoined the Duke; 'I promise you she hath many a thousand stitched to her petticoat; such a wife would save thee from skeldering on the public.'
'My lord, I sell my blood and my sword, but not my honour,' answered the man sullenly; 'if I marry, my bed may be a poor, but it shall be an honest one.'
'Then thy wife will be the only honest matter in thy possession, Colonel—at least since I have known you,' replied the Duke.
'Why, truly, your Grace may speak your pleasure on that point. It is chiefly your business which I have done of late; and if it were less strictly honest than I could have wished, the employer was to blame as well as the agent. But for marrying a cast-off mistress, the man (saving your Grace, to whom I am bound) lives not who dares propose it to me.'
The Duke laughed loudly. 'Why, this is mine Ancient Pistol's vein,' he replied.
