“You’ll lose your popularity when the treaty is discovered,” returned the Duke.
A little chuckle escaped the King.
“Shall I, Davy?”
“With some factions,” answered Roxhythe, gravely.
“Only for the moment.”
“That depends, Sir, on how far you play into Louis’ hands.”
The Duke rose and went over to the window. For some moments he stood staring out into the gardens. Then he turned, and came back to the table.
“Louis will require you to play very deeply into his hands, Sir,” he said.
“He may require it, but I do not think I shall do it,” smiled Charles.
“You will have to,” said James, tersely. “Oh, there are many points against this alliance!” He paced up and down the floor, his hands linked behind his back. Suddenly he stopped, and faced the King. “Sir, I implore you, have the matter put before the Cabinet! Enforce your will upon them, but make an honourable and a safe treaty! No one wants the alliance more than do I, but I do not want to play the part of catspaw to Louis, as we must if we make these secret terms. We show Louis that we stand in fear of Parliament. Oh, ’tis madness, Sir! I have thought well on it, and I know ’tis madness.”
Charles laid his hand on his brother’s arm.
“James, you are wrong. Can you not see that it is not I who will play the part of catspaw?”
James stared.
“Who then?”
The most curious of smiles flitted across the King’s face.
“Louis, my friend.”
James shook off his hand.
“The suspense has turned your brain! You must indeed be mad if you think that!”
“I do not think, James. I know.”
“Pah! If you sign this secret treaty they concoct, Louis holds you in the hollow of his hand! An you fail to fulfil your part, he will denounce you to the Government! And he’ll fail to pay you your wage!”
“Expose me? Do you really think that?”
“Assuredly!”
“My good brother, he dare not. He would lose all hope of gaining England, if he did. The nation would be hot for war with France. I tell you, James, Louis is the one power I do not fear. Be reasonable! Leave this matter to me! You were not fashioned for the intriguer’s part.”
“I thank God, no!” cried James. “I see you will go your own wilful way, but I pray you will not drown us all in a sea of disaster!”
“You are so inconsistent,” sighed Charles. “A moment back ’twas you who were the fearnaught. Now you are as timorous as I never was. Do you so love the Government?”
“No, by heaven!”
“Then why hesitate to trick them as they would not hesitate to trick you? Has the Government treated us so well that we need consider it?” He snapped his fingers. “Bah! So much for the Government!”
“ ’Tis not that I cavil at. …”
“You fear that I shall in my turn be duped by Louis. I shall not. You fear a French yoke. You shall not be called upon to bear one.”
“I fear you will sell England to France!” said James, impetuously.
“I shall never do that, rest assured. Charles Stuart is no man’s chattel. If I accept Louis his offer ’tis for the furtherance of mine own ends. I enter into this bond with open eyes.”
“If I could believe that … !”
“You can believe it.”
“And that is your last word? You’ll not lay the matter before the Cabinet?”
For the first time Charles showed exasperation.
“James, in the face of the Triple Bond, how can I?”
James shook his head wearily.
“I know not. Ye seem able to do most things.” He paused. “Well, there’s naught to be gained by argument. I’ll leave you.”
“You stand by me in this matter, Jamie?”
“I must.” James spoke over his shoulder. The next moment he was gone.
“I was never so at one with His Grace,” remarked Roxhythe.
VII
The First Seed of Doubt
On Friday, two days after Roxhythe’s departure for France, Christopher set out to visit his friend Harcourt at his house in Great Queen Street.
He was pleased to renew the acquaintance, but he could not help feeling that he and Harcourt would now have very little in common. The Country Party was always steadily opposed to the Court Party, and most of its members held the Court and all its ways in abhorrence. Once Christopher had held their views himself but since he had been with Roxhythe he had changed his opinions. His father had always pulled a long face when King Charles was mentioned. He had solemnly warned his sons to have naught to do with the vicious Court and the dissolute King. Christopher had never taken him very seriously; he had abundant trust in Charles’ integrity. He thought it impossible that a King should be worthy of suspicion; he laughed at his father’s gloomy prognostications. Mr. Dart had prophesied that the King would make a sorry substitute for the Protector. He said over and over again that no Stuart could run straight: they must always choose the crooked path. He warned his sons to trust neither in the King nor in any of those around him. Christopher saw now how wrong he had been; life with Roxhythe had taught him that. He hoped that Harcourt would not inveigh against the Court, for he felt that he could not discuss the matter calmly. Since he had been at Bevan House he had become acquainted with so many courtiers and liked most of them so much, that he could not bear to hear ill spoken of them by the Country Party whose members he had come to consider very worthy but very dull. He hoped, too, that Harcourt would not advise him to quit Roxhythe. From his manner the other day he thought that he would not, but since he had received so many sinister warnings he was ever on his guard.
So he arrived at Great Queen Street. He was introduced to Madam Harcourt. She came of an old Puritan stock, and she was very properly grieved at the
