“Weep? I?” The faint voice was disdainful. “I am only too well satisfied.”
John put a chair for her ladyship. Frances sat down.
Roxhythe allowed her to take his hand. He was staring before him.
“The … welcome end. Gad, but I was glad to see the fellow … lurking in the shadows! … He little knew … little knew. …”
“Who was it, David?” Lady Frances was surprised at her own calm.
“Trenchard. He thought … I should betray him. … Sapient man.” Suddenly Roxhythe chuckled. “I told him … to shoot. He was … so surprised … he—” He broke off, coughing.
Burnest was at his side in a moment. The handkerchief that came away from my lord’s lips was stained red.
“Sir, I beg you will keep quiet.”
“No doubt. You want … to prolong … life. Unfortunately … I want … to end it.”
“Sir—”
“My … dear Burnest … we have dealt with … one another … before. Don’t … you realize … the futility of … argument?”
“You were always very stubborn, sir.” Burnest put a spoon to his lips, smiling.
Roxhythe took the restorative. His eyes closed.
For a long time there was absolute silence. My lord lay in a kind of stupor. Presently a deep furrow appeared between his brows. He began to speak, muttering.
“… vain … regrets! … Not I, sir. There was … never a question … of it. If you … think that … Fanny … you do not … know me. Always I am Roxhythe. Roxhythe … C. R. … linked together. … Sire, all my … life. …” His voice died away. He moved uneasily; his hand was very hot.
“My dear … Saint-Aignan! … a maker of … gloves. Blue … entwined. Did … Colbert tell you, Madame?” His eyes opened. They were shining with a strange, feverish light. “When … you … are gone … nothing matters. The … better … part. Fools! … fools! … Someone said … that. The better … part! … Always your … faithful … servant, Sir.” He struggled up on his elbow. “It is … Cromwell’s lucky day! How … could we … hope to win? Courage, Sir! This is … not the end!”
Burnest put him back on his pillows.
“Hush, sir! Be still.”
He was shaken off.
“Gentlemen … the King … is dead! … Who was it … uttered the accursed … words? His hand … is cold … Sire … Sire!”
“Give me that bottle!”
John put it into his hands, weeping. Burnest measured out a spoonful. The mixture trickled between my lord’s parted lips. Frances watched in silent agony.
The brown eyes opened.
“Fanny … why weep? Do you … think I … mind?”
“My lord, I beg you will not talk!”
“You … intrude … Burnest.” The eyes were haughty.
“I am sorry, sir. I am responsible for you, you see.”
The fine lips curled.
“No one is responsible … for Roxhythe … save himself. You would … oblige me … by retiring.”
Lady Frances laid her hand on the surgeon’s.
“Mr. Burnest, let him have his way. You cannot help now.”
“Madam, I cannot allow him to—”
“Mordieu! Am … I to be set … at naught?”
“You only excite him. Please, please stand back!”
Burnest shrugged and walked away.
“Another … of those … who dislike me. I have … inspired … great love, or great … hatred … never a … lukewarm … liking, I thank God!”
Frances stroked his hand.
“In truth, you are Roxhythe,” she smiled.
“Always. They … would have liked … to see me … fall. Had I lived … I would have shown them that Roxhythe … can stand … alone! But it is … better so. I am … going … to my master.” Again his eyes closed. After perhaps ten minutes they opened. They did not see Lady Frances.
“It is … no laughing matter, Sir! … I am … too old to be … ordered … by petty princelings … Thank God … for Whitehall … and my … own master. Curse … the dolt! Why … must he sit … in your place? … So you will leave … me, Chris? After all these … years. Did you bring my mask? … You know me … very well … don’t you? You will … not stay with me? You make too much … out of … too little. I regret … nothing. … The better … part … the better … part. … Cor … dieu! I would choose the same … the same. …” The brown eyes were frowning. “Why … must you sit … in his place? Memories … only … memories. … What if I did … lose all? The … one friend … the one friend. … Nothing matters … save your pleasure, Sir. I am … busied with … your affairs.” Suddenly he laughed. “They … remind me of … cabbages! … a fruitful topic!” He drew his hand away, passing it across his eyes. “You remember … the green hangings … don’t you, Chris?” His hand fell away. He looked at Lady Frances’ bowed head. “I … have been … dreaming. I thought Chris was … here. Fanny?”
“Dear David?” Lady Frances tried to choke the sobs that rose to her lips.
Roxhythe was smiling now.
“You … remember how Chris … laughed? It always … pleased me. He laughed … because I objected … to the green … hangings. They are gone … now. I had them … changed. It is … eight years. A … long time, my … dear.”
“Yes, David. You still have—me.”
“Of course. You … could never … quite … disown me … could you?”
“I am always—your friend, David. We understand one another.”
The smile grew.
“But then you … are not … impenetrable, you know!”
“Am I not? How—you love to—tease me, David!”
“Vraiment … I am a trial. Don’t let Jasper meddle … in Monmouth’s cause!”
“I will not.”
“I … ought to send … some farewell … messages. I always … disliked … the heroic pose … off the stage. Do you … remember Crewe?”
“And the silly wife! That was unlucky, David.”
“A … mistake … I admit. Give … my love … to Chris. I would I … had seen him … just once … again. You … won’t believe me … but I cared … for him.”
“I know that you did, dear. I always knew it. If I said hard things I am very sorry!”
“My dear … according … to your lights … you spoke … rightly. You … could not … understand.”
She shook her head.
“We won’t speak of it, David.”
“We might … quarrel … an we did. I regret … I cannot … repent, weeping. It … is not in … the part.” He paused, and his hand tightened on hers. “I could have … regained … all my lost … power. It was … within my grasp. But it … was not … worth it. You … understand?”
“Perfectly, David.”
“Your chief … attraction. What … is the … time?”
She glanced at the clock.
“Just after three, dear.”
“Ah! … He died … at noon. I shall not wait … much longer. I am … very content.” The weary lids drooped. “I have to … thank you … for your … kindness. I knew … that you would … come.”
“I would have
