When the servants had at last left the room, Lord Holles filled up the glasses, and, not without regret, brought the conversation round to home affairs. He began cautiously, for Ashley had implored him to be very circumspect in what he said before Roxhythe. He leaned back in his chair, tilting it slightly.
“We are all idle since our prorogation, Roxhythe—and somewhat disgruntled!” He grimaced ruefully. “I should not say that to you, I suppose.”
Roxhythe stared into his glass.
“Yes, the Bill seems to have failed.”
“The poor Bill! But we must not weary you with it. You understand it is something of an obsession! However, I know you are not interested. Shaftesbury, a little Burgundy?”
“Why should I not be interested?” asked Roxhythe. “Of course—it really does not affect me. …” He left a pause.
Holles shot a look at the Earl.
“Why I rather thought ye were above our discussions! But—well, you are not always at one with his Grace of York, are you?”
He achieved a roguish smile.
Roxhythe touched his lips with his napkin.
“Not always,” he said.
Holles thought it as well to change the subject. He was an artist, he flattered himself. Presently he would let the conversation glide back to politics. He was annoyed when Shaftesbury, always impatient, came abruptly back to the all-important topic.
“Of course, if we have James we are assured of Papist successors.”
Roxhythe looked up quickly.
“Oh, ’tis not the successors—” he stopped. “Do you think so?”
Holles replenished his glass. Since Shaftesbury had so tactlessly reintroduced the subject it had best be continued.
“With both parents Catholic, what would you?” he asked. “We ought to have a Protestant heir.” Out of the corner of his eye he could see Shaftesbury’s apprehensive gaze, full of warning.
Roxhythe was gloomy.
“Yes, but Mary means the Prince of Orange.”
“True.” Holles returned Shaftesbury’s look steadily. “You do not like the thought?”
Roxhythe sipped his wine, of a sudden languid.
“In truth it concerns me not.”
There was no more political talk that evening.
When Roxhythe had gone, Holles returned to Shaftesbury, triumphant.
“What did I say?”
“Yes,” agreed the Earl. “But he is not desirous of joining us. I think he still ponders.”
“Evidently. And you see that he does not relish the idea of the Orange. We must secure him, my lord.”
“If we can—if ’tis safe. He does not give much away.”
“Except that he wants the exclusion.”
“I wonder. …” Shaftesbury frowned uncertainly. “It may have been that he wished us to infer that.”
Holles was derisive.
“My dear Ashley! One could see that he was perturbed by his manner. Did you not think so?”
“Yes—and no.”
“It was palpable! He must be cajoled to our side.”
“I do not like it!” Shaftesbury spoke curtly. “I do not trust Roxhythe. He might ruin us.”
“But will he? Do you not see that he must at all costs exclude James? He knows that the Duke hates him.”
“I do not expect him to work against the King.”
“Rest assured that he would never do so openly. So much the better.”
“If we invite him to be one of us we take too great a risk.”
“I do not agree. If we do not snare him he may go over to Temple’s party. He has too much influence in the Upper House to be counted lightly. You do not want the Orange.”
“No, damme! But could he influence the House to that extent?”
“I think it more than likely. And if we set Monmouth up as the heir Roxhythe could very easily influence the King to ruin him.”
“If he became one of Temple’s party that is what he would do, of course. Well. … But I do not like it!”
“Leave it to me!” said Holles.
My Lord Roxhythe repaired to Whitehall. The King went apart with him.
“We progress,” said my lord tranquilly. “I am advocate for Mary, I am advocate for Monmouth.”
“ ’Sblood, David, does Shaftesbury really think to set Monmouth on the throne when I am gone?”
“So I gather. Temple wishes to bring Prince William to England to accustom the mind of England to the idea of his succession. But Shaftesbury will have none of it.”
“And you?”
“Very secretly I am with Temple—say Halifax. Not wholly. They are still in doubt about me. Shortly I shall be one of Shaftesbury’s band. Then we shall see.”
“It must be damned entertaining!” exclaimed the King.
“It is damned hard work!” retorted Roxhythe.
II
The Schemers
Cautiously did my Lord Holles set about the business of snaring Roxhythe. It took some little time to win this trump card to his side, but he did it at length, marvelling at his own sagacity and cunning. At last Roxhythe allowed himself to be persuaded, and then he entered into the cause, as he put it, heart and soul. Shaftesbury still had misgivings; in Roxhythe’s presence his conversation was always guarded, yet he could not but see the truth in what Holles said: Roxhythe must at all costs work for the Duke of York’s exclusion. Reluctantly he invited Roxhythe to a discussion at his house.
The only other schemers there that day were Holles and one Lord Roberts. Roberts was entirely of Holles’ mind concerning Roxhythe. He clasped my lord warmly by the hand.
“I am glad to know that you are one of us, my lord!”
“I am honoured to be one of you,” smiled Roxhythe. “This is a serious matter.”
“It is indeed, my lord! It is indeed!”
Shaftesbury drew forward a chair.
“I need hardly say, Lord Roxhythe, that we trust to your discretion.”
“Certainly,” bowed my lord.
He listened to the discussion with interest. It appeared that the worthy gentlemen did not know how to win my Lords Halifax and Essex to their side. It also appeared that not many of the Council desired Monmouth for King.
In the middle of the argument my lord upraised his smooth voice.
“It seems, gentlemen, that the opposing side think his Grace would be an unpopular King.”
“That is true!” cried Roberts. “They do not think that he would ever be received. I believe it is for that reason alone that they will not join us. Many of them do not really
