“I’ faith, Davy, I’d give much to have been with you! So you were pushed from pillar to post, my poor Marquis? Oh, lud!” Again he shook. “But what of my nephew?”
Roxhythe spoke gravely.
“Sir, he is a remarkable youth. In appearance he is slight, with a hook nose, and eyes that see everything at a glance. His manner is cold, brusque, repressed. His personality is overwhelming.”
“So?” said Charles, interested. “As great as mine?”
“In its way, Sir, greater. He has none of Your Majesty’s charm, but he forces himself into one’s memory. He attracts, and he repels. In spite of his youth, and his lack of polish, he holds the stage.”
“Why, Roxhythe, this is marvellous! Proceed!”
“He received me with as much ceremony as I had by that time learnt to expect. He had the air of an Emperor giving audience to one poor subject. He read Ashley’s packet. Then he asked me what Your Majesty hoped to gain by the bargain.”
Charles burst out laughing again.
“That I should have missed all this!”
“I do confess, Sir, I was taken aback. In a very short time he showed me that if he was young in years, he was old in wisdom. He perceived that Ashley was little more than a catspaw; he sneered at the idea of your helping him to his rightful place. In fact, Sir, he desires to know why you have not come to his aid before now.”
“The impudent young cockerel!”
“You would not think so did you but see and hear him, Sir. He asked me what was to be the price of all you offered. I told him—glibly enough, and evasively. He caught me up, and told me all too rightly what I meant. He saw through and through that proposition, Sir, and at last I was frank with him. I explained Your Majesty’s attitude—with reservations. Then the storm burst. Odds body, Sir, but when the Prince loses his temper, one shivers in one’s shoes. He hailed words about me. He cried that Your Majesty was asking him to barter his Country and his honour for his own advancement. He bade me tell you that he was not a Stuart. He said he saw very clearly how you were seeking to trick him into an alliance by which only you would profit. Finally he tore the packet into shreds and bade me tell you that that was his answer. Then he fell to coughing, and I tried to collect my wits. Sir, I argued with that boy until my throat was parched, and always he had a ready answer wherewith to dumbfound me. He gave away naught without meaning to, and I could not gather what were his intentions. But he has evidently received advances from King Louis, and I think he hopes to frighten you by holding that over your head. That he will ally himself with any foreign power to gain the Stadtholdership, I do not think for a moment. He is as honest as the day, and as astute as old Nick himself. He thinks to rise without foreign aid, but he told me he would not seek to overthrow a Government that he fully acknowledged. He is to be feared, Sir.”
“My dear David, I must make his further acquaintance. Did he send any more insulting messages to me?”
“A score. He does not trust you or anyone else, Sir, and he told me so in good round terms. He bade me tell you you that Nassau does not stoop to intrigue behind the backs of his ministers. I think already he has quite a little Court.”
Charles was deeply interested.
“And you think him one to be reckoned with?”
“More than that, Sir. I think him a great man; one to be propitiated at all costs. I foresee that he will rise suddenly, and at no very distant date.”
“We must invite him to England,” said the King. “I am agog to see him.”
“I doubt he would not come. He holds England and the English in contempt. Also King Louis. All this he told me. I spent a pleasant evening, Sir.”
Charles rocked with laughter.
“And I thought I could twist him round my finger! Zounds, why was I not there to see?”
“It is no laughing matter, Sir. I am too old to be ordered about by petty princelings and their servants.”
Charles sobered suddenly.
“But, Roxhythe, it is a plaguey nuisance. This means I must turn to France.” He bit his fingernail, frowning. Then he smiled again. “So you came away with a flea in your ear, my poor Roxhythe? God’s Body, how I have ill-used you! But tell me more of William. You say he has personality; he attracts. But does he inspire his followers with confidence?”
“Judging from Dart’s airs, yes, Sir. He is very well served. It seems his servants would undergo any torture ever invented sooner than betray him.”
Charles made a rueful grimace.
“And,” continued Roxhythe, “he says himself that he will not have any man about him whom he could not trust implicitly.”
“If I said that, I had only you left,” remarked Charles.
“Precisely. And he seems to allow no familiarity—no license. He lives in an atmosphere of gloom and depression.” Roxhythe looked round the luxurious room. “Thank God for Whitehall, and mine own Prince!” he said devoutly.
Charles smiled.
“He is more kingly than I am, eh?”
“No,” said Roxhythe instantly. “He is too young to unbend. But in intrigue, Sir, you have met your match in William of Nassau.”
“I must have a care,” laughed the King.
“Indeed yes, Sir. Remember, the Orange is a man, and one who must not be forgotten. I foresee trouble. Guard against him.”
“I will,” promised the King. “And now, David, we must look to France.”
Book II
The Ways Diverge
I
January, 1669
Christopher settled down very quickly on his return from Holland and took up his abode at Bevan House, Charing Cross. His duties as secretary were not arduous, and consisted for the most part of attending to
