Part 9 (1/2)

Buckingham chuckled softly.

”No wonder he's tattered and gray,” he declared, humorously philosophizing upon Hart's reply, though it was evident that Hart himself was too much chafed by the presence of his lords.h.i.+p in the greenroom after the play to know what he really had said.

An ominous coolness now pervaded the atmosphere. Buckingham sat by the table, impatiently tapping the floor with his boot, his eyes growing dark at the delay. Hart still plumed himself before the mirror. His dress was rich; his sword was well balanced, a Damascus blade; his cloak hung gracefully; his big black hat and plumes were jaunty. He had, too, vigour in his step. With it all, however, he was a social outcast, and he felt it, while his companion, whose faults of nature were none the less glaring than his own, was almost the equal of a king.

There was a tap at Nell's door. It was the call-boy, who had slipped un.o.bserved into the room.

”What is it, d.i.c.k?” asked Nell, sweetly, as she opened the door slightly to inspect her visitor.

”A message,--very important,” whispered d.i.c.k, softly, as he pa.s.sed a note within.

”Thank you,” replied the actress; and the door closed again.

d.i.c.k was about to depart, when the alert Buckingham, rising hastily from his seat, called him.

”That was Nell's voice?” he asked.

”Yes, my lord. She's dressing,” answered d.i.c.k. ”Good night, Master Hart,” he added, as he saw the manager.

Hart, however, was not in a good humour and turned sharply upon him.

d.i.c.k vanished.

”She will be out shortly, my lord,” the manager observed to Buckingham, somewhat coldly. ”But it will do you little good,” he thought, as he reflected upon his conversation with Nell.

Buckingham leaned lazily over the back of a chair and replied confidently, knowing that his speech would be no balm to the irate manager: ”Nell always keeps her engagements religiously with me. We are to sup together to-night, Hart.”

”Odso!” retorted the other, drawing himself up to his full height. ”You will be disappointed, methinks.”

”I trow not,” Buckingham observed, with a smile which made Hart wince.

”Pepys's wife has him mewed up at home when Nelly plays, and the King is tied to other ap.r.o.n-strings.” His lords.h.i.+p chuckled as he bethought him how cleverly he had managed that his Majesty be under the proper influence. ”What danger else?” he inquired, cuttingly.

Though the words were mild, the feelings of the two men were at white-heat.

”Your lords.h.i.+p's hours are too valuable to waste,” politely suggested the manager. ”I happen to know Mistress Gwyn sups with another to-night.”

”Another?” sneered his lords.h.i.+p.

”Another!” hotly repeated the actor.

”We shall see, friend Hart,” said Buckingham, in a tone no less agreeable, with difficulty restraining his feelings.

He threw himself impatiently into a big arm-chair, which he had swung around angrily, so that its back was to the manager.

The insult was more than Hart could bear. He also seized a chair, and vented his vengeance upon it. Almost hurled from its place, it fell back to back with Buckingham's.

”We shall see, my lord,” he said as he likewise angrily took his seat and folded his arms.

It was like ”The Schism” of Vibert.

It is difficult to tell what would have been the result, had the place been different. Each knew that Nell was just beyond her door; each hesitated; and each, with bitterness in his heart, held on to himself.