In his position as secretary to Worth, Christopher was closely in touch with all these proceedings. His interest in them grew steadily. Through bitter experience had he learnt to mistrust the King, and at first he viewed Charles’ patriotic spasm with a sneer. But when supplies were voted for an army to go into Holland against France, some of his mistrust died. When troops were indeed sent to Holland, it faded almost entirely. He threw himself into his work with renewed fervour, feeling that at last he was working for the one incorruptible party.
Then came dissension, and he was puzzled. He was present at many turbulent discussions, and he listened in growing amazement to my Lords Russell and Roberts, who were of a sudden seized by a fear that the troops were being raised, not for war on France, but for the King’s private ends. Hot arguments ensued, some men denying the implication, others defending it, and a few holding themselves neutral. Chaos followed, and the nation, catching the panic which had spread from the Country Party to the Commons, cried aloud to have the army disbanded. It was then that Christopher discovered something that increased tenfold the load on his mind. These men whom he deemed so upright were, unwittingly or not, playing directly into the French King’s hands. Even Lord Russell, patriot that he was, was communicating through Barillon against the throne.
From his position as onlooker, Christopher saw clearly how Louis was fanning the flame of mistrust for Charles in the Country Party. When he realized that Louis and the Country Party were virtually in league against England, he was at first staggered by the shock. That the Country Party did not themselves realize this he fully acknowledged, but the fact that they should descend to communication with an openly enemy country against their own King filled him with sick disgust. Another ideal was shattered and lay in the dust at his feet; once again he had followed a path which he believed to be right, and which had proved to be wrong.
He handed his resignation to Worth; he could not be implicated in such negotiations.
Again he stood by himself, filled with a great loneliness, and an overwhelming sense of his own puniness. Back came the old longings, the old struggle. If only he could return to Roxhythe! Roxhythe, who did not vacillate, who saw clearly, who worked calmly for one end. After all, was not his the better part? The Country Party were no more honest than was he, and they were dishonest not that they might the more successfully serve a definite object. They wavered and played false in their search for what Christopher was gradually coming to think a vague ideal. They were divided against themselves; they knew no set purpose; they were swayed this way and that. But Roxhythe knew no wavering; he was unflurried; he stood firm.
In the face of his present difficulties and uncertainties Christopher’s need of him was greater than ever it had been before. His whole soul was yearning for Roxhythe; only his sense of right prevented him from going back. Then came days and nights of unceasing struggle, of hopeless unhappiness. Until now Christopher’s life had been placid and well ordered, filled with a great love. All this had been torn suddenly from him. Roxhythe had been his anchor; he had leant on him more than he knew. Now the support was gone, and he stood alone. He had thought to find peace with Worth, working for his country. That too was swept away. Life seemed to him a giant discord; a mass of complexities and unhappiness. There was no truth in mankind, only lust for power and money.
Two words thrummed in his brain: my lord. How many times had he repeated them, an ache in his throat, a mist before his eyes! To no purpose. It was all at an end: the happiness, the trust, the blissful years of companionship. Only the love remained, the love that nothing could kill; and the memories, bittersweet. Nothing else was left. …
At Court Charles was busy. Since Louis was angry, Louis must be placated. He sent Roxhythe to Paris with assurances of good faith. Roxhythe had a stormy interview with Louis. Louis plainly intimated that he would have no dealings with my lord. He had learnt that Roxhythe was without scruples; he had been informed that my lord had furthered the royal marriage, even taken part in the negotiations; he had trusted that my lord would exert all his influence to prevent it, and to promote France’s interests; he had understood that my lord was working for him in England; he now saw how empty were my lord’s fair words.
His Majesty was most incensed. He strutted in his wrath. Roxhythe remained as imperturbable as ever. He answered Louis smoothly. The marriage was necessary; England’s fears had to be set at rest. To which Louis replied that England’s fears might have been quelled in some other way, less insulting to his Majestic Person. Roxhythe grew more and more bored. His Majesty hardly understood the temper of the English people. Majesty replied that one thing he understood passing well, and that was the fickle temper of his cousin. Roxhythe became patient. He assured Louis of King Charles’ unswerving loyalty to his secret ally. Louis thereupon snapped his august fingers. He, Roxhythe, still worked for a binding treaty with France; it had been beyond his poor might to hinder the marriage negotiations. His Majesty had overrated his influence. But Majesty retorted that he had overrated the weight of his word. Roxhythe had done nothing in England to further the French cause. He had spoken, years ago, of raising dissension in the Commons over a possible marriage between William
