Thus it was that my Lord Roxhythe went to wait upon His Grace of Monmouth.
The young man was in a state of terror. He almost clung to Roxhythe.
“My lord, ye see how we have been betrayed!”
Roxhythe looked at him thoughtfully.
“What am I to do?” went on Monmouth. “Does the King suspect you?”
“No,” said Roxhythe, smiling. “He does not.”
Lord Grey had entered the room. He spoke now with suppressed fury.
“He has good reason not to suspect Lord Roxhythe!” he said.
Monmouth recoiled.
“What’s that? No, no! Roxhythe, you have not betrayed me?”
My lord ate a comfit.
“I could kill you where you stand, you lying devil!” said Grey.
“No, you could not,” replied his lordship tranquilly.
“Roxhythe, Roxhythe, it is not true! Good God, you could not have betrayed me!”
“Could he not, sir? Do you forget Sydney’s warnings? Alas, that I ignored them! Rumsey has turned informer, but who was behind Rumsey? Who prompted him to tell such a careful mixture of truth and lies? He had not the brain, I know!”
Monmouth clung to the table.
“Roxhythe, speak!” He was very near tears.
Roxhythe shut his comfit-box.
“Gently, sir. Do not agitate yourself. Lord Grey, either leave the room or behave sanely.”
Grey had drawn his sword. Murder was in his eyes.
“Will you draw, sir?”
“Certainly not.”
Monmouth caught at Grey’s arm.
“Fool, fool! We are surely ruined if you kill Roxhythe! Put up your sword! I command it!”
Reluctantly Grey obeyed. Monmouth sat down limply.
“Roxhythe—explain! Deny that you betrayed me!”
“I wonder that Your Grace ever believed I should do otherwise. I am the King his man. You were all very guileless.”
“We were honest!” cried Grey. “We—foolishly—judged you by ourselves!”
“Then you were indeed foolish. You counted on my dislike for the Duke of York. You forgot my love for the King.”
“Oh, my God!” choked Monmouth. “How could you do it? You have ruined me!”
Roxhythe’s smile was sarcastic.
“I have prevented your ruin, Sir.”
“How can you say so? Don’t seek to excuse yourself!”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said, don’t seek to excuse yourself!”
Grey watched the smile come again, sick at heart.
“I most certainly shall not excuse myself,” said my lord haughtily. “Had it been necessary I would have ruined Your Grace. As it is I have saved you. It was not my deliberate intention.”
“You confound me with your riddles! What have you done to save me?”
“I have very effectually prevented your rising against King Charles. Is it possible that you do not realize how futile such a rising would have been? You would have caused a little trouble, your army would have been disposed of, and you would have died a traitor’s death on Tower Hill.”
“I am like to do that now!” groaned the wretched young man.
“Not at all. That is why I have sought you out today. Because His Majesty hath a great affection for you in spite of your conduct, I must help you to evade justice.”
“Do not trust him, sir!” said Grey sharply.
“I shall not. I’ll listen to no more of his advice!”
Roxhythe bowed.
“In that case I’ll take my leave, sir.”
Up started Monmouth.
“No, no! Come back, Roxhythe! Come back! What is it I must do?”
“Highness, pray do not—”
“Silence, Grey! Roxhythe, help me!”
“A warrant is out for your arrest, sir—”
“Curse you! Do I not know it?”
“—for your arrest. So I counsel you to go into hiding, not in London. When this storm has abated, surrender yourself to His Majesty, and implore his mercy.”
“I shall surrender myself now! at once!”
“You will be very ill-advised, sir. Evidence is too strong against you. Much of it will be withdrawn in a while and you can with safety surrender. For the present, go.”
Monmouth stood irresolute.
“How do I know that you are not trying to ruin me entirely? I—”
“You do not know. But Lord Grey will tell you that I am speaking with my accustomed good-sense.”
Monmouth looked helplessly at Grey who shrugged.
“Is it a message from the King?” asked the Duke, of a sudden eager.
Roxhythe looked at his hands.
“I must say no,” he replied.
“That is a curious way of saying it! Are you—bidden to—say no?”
“Is it likely that I shall tell you, sir? You have my advice. Act on it or not, as you will. It makes no odds to me. What should I gain by your ruin?” He went out.
“I shall go, Grey.”
“Shall you, sir?” Grey smiled wanly. “I suppose you will. And we—shall stay.”
VII
February, 1685
Lady Frances regarded her cousin thoughtfully.
“I often wonder, David, how you triumphed.”
Roxhythe showed signs of interest.
“When? And how?”
“When Russell died, and Essex killed himself.”
Roxhythe relapsed into boredom.
“Old history, my dear.”
“But none the less puzzling. At the time you would say naught. Now it should be different. All those enemies to the King are gone; there is no danger of Exclusion. How did you do it?”
“It was the King his triumph.”
“Undoubtedly. But also yours.”
“I am gratified, of course. But why was it my triumph?”
“Roxhythe, am I a fool?”
“You are wiser than the most of your sex, my dear.”
She made a little grimace.
“You are more than kind! Well, I am not a fool. Never have you succeeded in deceiving me, less than ever now. Why does Halifax become as stone when one speaks your name? Why does Sunderland grind his teeth? Why do Howard’s cheeks grow red?”
“Do they?” asked Roxhythe. “How amusing!”
“No. Why do all these things happen?”
“In truth, I am too powerful.”
“Why are you too powerful? What have you done to cause their enmity? You put a spoke in their wheels.”
“Several spokes.”
“You helped to overthrow Shaftesbury, you overthrew the Exclusion, you ruined Monmouth.”
“It seems I am omnipotent. But I did not ruin Monmouth.”
“Oh, I
