Roxhythe went back to England knowing that in France his day was done.
Charles was momentarily cast down by the news that his favourite had not succeeded in his mission, but his cheery optimism soon came to the fore, and once again he set his brains to work. Through Danby he wrote to Louis, demanding a fresh pension in return for his good offices. Yet another secret bargain was sealed. Charles withdrew his troops from Holland on the understanding that Louis would make peace with that country. But no sooner had the English army left the Dutch shores than Louis culled a leaf from his faithless cousin’s book by taking back his peace-offers. Whereat the irrepressible Charles was much amused, and retired into the background to allow the foreign powers to fight out their quarrel alone. He was not at all perturbed by the turn affairs had taken, but rather pleased, as he was left with a large force at his disposal, never having declared war at all.
And so at length the Peace was signed, without English intervention. Mostly it was to Louis’ advantage, but on one point it thwarted him: Holland remained inviolate. William had triumphed, if not wholly, at least partially.
“So the little Orange wins!” said Charles. “That boy!”
“I told you he was a youth of parts, Sir,” answered Roxhythe placidly.
It was at this time that Christopher found a new master. My Lord Shaftesbury came to him, offering him a post as secretary to himself. He was but lately released from the Tower, and was burning with indignation and a fierce hatred for the King.
Christopher entered his service willingly, almost joyfully. Ashley had been his father’s friend; Ashley at least was honest. He settled down to work for him with a quieter mind, feeling that in this patriot he would find a friend as well as a master. His old resentment against Ashley was nearly dead, for all that Ashley had said against Roxhythe was true. Now they never spoke of my lord, for on the one occasion when Ashley had mentioned his name slightingly Christopher was up in arms at once. Not wishing again to alienate the young man from himself, Ashley thereafter eschewed the subject.
For a time all went smoothly. Christopher had much work to do, but in constant occupation he found mental relief, and he never grumbled at the ever-increasing load thrust on to his weary shoulders. Then, like a thunderbolt on the land, came the Titus Oates plot, and England was once more plunged into a ferment. The tale of the coming insurrection of the Catholics was swallowed avidly, although the King treated the whole plot with contumely, and its exposers with stern disapproval. At the best, the evidence brought forward by Oates and his confederates was absurd, and provedly inaccurate. When the interest and incredulity in the plot showed signs of waning, it was fanned to fresh flame by new depositions, made by Oates, more gruesome and improbable than ever.
To Christopher’s surprise, Shaftesbury credited the tale, and went into it thoroughly. Once Christopher expostulated with him, asking if it could be possible that Ashley believed Oates’ lies. Ashley shot him a sidelong glance and answered that it was indeed possible. Then he broke into an impassioned harangue against the Duke of York, who, he was convinced, was at the head of the plot. Christopher, knowing that his constant ill-health made Shaftesbury nervous and uncontrolled, thought little of this outburst. He was sorry that his master should be so led astray, but he trusted that in time he would return to his senses. But soon it was forcibly brought home to him that Shaftesbury was behind all the atrocities wreaked on the Catholics, and that it was Shaftesbury who encouraged the mob’s lust for blood. His last doubts were dispelled when he was set to work on a bill of Shaftesbury’s own making, excluding all Catholics from a seat in either House. Dimly he felt that this was but a stepping-stone to the exclusion of the Duke of York from the throne, and although he himself dreaded a Papist King he could not but feel aghast at Shaftesbury’s action in using such a means to procure the exclusion. He began, slowly, to realize that Shaftesbury believed in the truth of the plot no more than he did himself, but was merely feigning belief the better to attain his own ends. Day after day Catholic priests were infamously tried, and executed; every gaol was full of so-called suspects. And the King moved neither one way nor the other.
Shaftesbury’s bill passed both Houses, but in its chief object it failed, as it exempted the Duke of York. Interest in the plot died down again, and again Shaftesbury aroused it, this time by bringing forward a fresh accomplice of Oates, who embellished the original tale with new details, and even accused the Queen of being privy to the whole affair.
Charles was disdainful, but the Commons seized on the evidence eagerly. Every Catholic in the realm was ordered to be arrested, and Father Coleman, agent to the Duke of York, was executed.
Once more Christopher handed in his resignation. He gave my Lord Shaftesbury very definite reasons. He realised that my lord was using the plot as a furtherance for his own ends. He could not and would not remain in the service of one who allowed, nay, encouraged the murder of innocent men. He left Shaftesbury in heat.
There followed a series of
