COLONEL DENSTROUDE, }
SIR GRESLEY CARNE, } Gentlemen of the town.
MR. BABINGTON-HERLE, }
VANRINGHAM, a play-actor and a Jacobite emissary.
MR. LANGTON, secretary to Ormskirk.
MISS ALLONBY, an heiress, loves Captain Audaine.
LOTTRUM, maid to Miss Allonby.
BENYON, MINCHIN, and OTHER SERVANTS to Ormskirk.
SCENE
Tunbridge Wells, shifting from Ormskirk's lodgings at the
ACTORS ALL
I quit pilfering from the writings of Francis Audaine, since in the happenings which now concern us he plays but a subsidiary part. The Captain had an utter faith in decorum, and therefore it was, as he records, an earth- staggering shock when the following day, on the Pantiles, in full sight of the best company at the Wells, Captain Audaine was apprehended. He met disaster like an old acquaintance, and hummed a scrap of song—'
'Look you, you rascals,' said he, 'you have spoiled a lady's afternoon with your foolish warrant!'
He then relinquished the unconscious girl to her brother's keeping, tenderly kissed one insensate hand, and afterward strolled off to jail
Tunbridge buzzed like a fly-trap with the ensuing rumors. The Captain was at the head of a most heinous Jacobitical uprising. The great Duke of Ormskirk was come hastily from London on the business. Highlanders were swarming over the Border, ten thousand French troops had landed at Pevensey, commanded by the Chevalier St. George in person, and twenty thousand friars and pilgrims from Coruna had sailed for Milford Haven, under the admiralty of young Henry Stuart. The King was locked in the Tower; the King had been assassinated that morning by a Spanish monk, with horse-pistols and a cast in his left eye; and the King and the Countess of Yarmouth had escaped three days ago, in disguise, and were now on their way to Hanover.
These were the reports which went about Tunbridge, while Dorothy Allonby wept a little and presently called for cold water and a powder-puff, and afterward for a sedan chair.
I
Miss Allonby found my Lord Duke of Ormskirk deep in an infinity of papers.
But at her entrance he rose and with a sign dismissed his secretary.
It appears appropriate here to afford you some notion of Ormskirk's exterior. I pilfer from Loewe's memoir of him, where Horace Calverley, who first saw Ormskirk at about this time, is quoted:
'His Grace was in blue-and-silver, which became him, though he is somewhat stomachy for such conspicuous colors. A handsome man, I would have said, honest but not particularly intelligent…. Walpole, in a fit of spleen, once called him 'a porcelain sphinx,' and the phrase sticks; but, indeed, there is more of the china-doll about him. He possesses the same too-perfect complexion, his blue eyes have the same spick-and-span vacuity; and the fact that the right orb is a trifle larger than its fellow gives his countenance, in repose, much the same expression of placid astonishment…. Very plump, very sleepy-looking, immaculate as a cat, you would never have accorded him a second glance: covert whisperings that the stout gentleman yonder is the great Duke of Ormskirk have, I think, taxed human belief more than once during these ten years past.'
They said of Ormskirk that he manifested a certain excitement on the day after Culloden, when he had seventy-two prisoners shot
II
'Child, child!' Ormskirk began, and made a tiny gesture of deprecation, 'I perceive you are about to appeal to my better nature, and so I warn you in advance that the idiotic business has worked me into a temper absolutely ogreish.'
'The Jacobite conspiracy, you mean?' said Miss Allonby. 'Oh, I suppose so. I am not particularly interested in such matters, though; I came, you understand, for a warrant, or an order, or whatever you call it, for them to let Frank out of that horrid filthy gaol.'
The Duke's face was gravely humorous as he gazed at her for a moment or two in silence, 'You know quite well,' he said at last, 'that I can give you nothing of the sort.'
Miss Allonby said: 'Upon my word, I never heard of such nonsense! How else is he to take me to Lady Mackworth's ball to-night?'
'It is deplorable,' his Grace of Ormskirk conceded, 'that Captain Audaine should be thus snatched from circles which he, no doubt, adorns. Still, I fear you must look for another escort; and frankly, child, if you will be advised by me, you will permit us to follow out our present intentions and take off his head—not a great deprivation when you consider he has so plainly demonstrated its contents to be of such inferior quality.'
She had drawn close to him, with widening, pitiable eyes. 'You mean, then,' she demanded, 'that Frank's very life is in danger?'
'This is unfair,' the Duke complained. 'You are about to go into hysterics forthwith and thus bully me into letting the man escape. You are a minx. You presume upon the fact that in the autumn I am to wed your kinswoman and bosom companion, and that my affection for her is widely known to go well past the frontier of common-sense; and also upon the fact that Marian will give me the devil if I don't do exactly as you ask. I consider you to abuse your power unconscionably, I consider you to be a second Delilah. However, since you insist upon it, this Captain Audaine must, of course, be spared the fate he very richly merits.'
Miss Allonby had seated herself beside a table and was pensively looking up at him. 'Naturally,' she said, 'Marian and I, between us, will badger you into saving Frank. I shall not worry, therefore, and I must trust to Providence, I suppose, to arrange matters so that the poor boy will not catch his death of cold in your leaky gaol yonder. And now I would like to be informed of what he has been most unjustly accused.'
'His crime,' the Duke retorted, 'is the not unusual one of being a fool. Oh, I am candid! All Jacobites are fools. We gave the Stuarts a fair trial, Heaven knows, and nobody but a fool would want them back.'