Part 24 (1/2)
”Stay!” pleaded Buckingham, still fearful. ”We can ourselves entice some adventurous spirit up Nell's terrace, then trap him. So our end is reached.”
”Aye,” replied the d.u.c.h.ess, in milder mood, realizing that she had been over-hasty at least in speech, ”the minx presumes to love the King, and so is honest! But of her later. The treaties! He shall sign to-night--to-night, I say.”
With a triumphant air, she pointed to the quills and sand upon a table in readiness for his signing.
Buckingham smiled approvingly; and in his smile lurked flattery so adroit that it pleased the d.u.c.h.ess despite herself.
”Lord Hyde, St. Albans and the rest,” said he, ”are here to aid the cause.”
”Bah!” answered Portsmouth, with a shrug. ”In the field, men; at court, women! This girl has outwitted you all. I must accomplish my mission alone. Charles must be Louis's pensioner in full; England the slave of France! My fortune--_Le Grand Roi's_ regard--hang upon it.”
Buckingham cautioned her with a startled gesture.
”Nay,” smiled Portsmouth, complacently, ”I may speak frankly, my lord; for your head is on the same block still with mine.”
”And my heart, Louise,” he said, in admiration. ”Back to the King! Do nothing rash. We will banish thy rival, dear hostess.”
He did not add, save in thought, that Nell's banishment, if left to him, would be to his own country estate.
There was almost a touch of affection in the d.u.c.h.ess's voice as she prepared to join the King.
”Leave all to me, my lord,” she said, then courtesied low.
”Yea, all but Nell!” reflected his lords.h.i.+p, as he watched her depart.
”With this ring, I'll keep thee wedded to jealous interest, and so enrich my purse and power. Thou art a great woman, fair France; I half love thee myself. But thou knowest only a moiety of my purpose. The other half is Nell!”
He stood absorbed in his own thoughts.
The draperies at the further doorway, on which was worked in Gobelin tapestry a forest with its grand, imposing oaks, were pushed nervously aside. Jack Hart entered, mask in hand, and scanned the room with skeptic eye.
”A happy meeting,” mused Buckingham, reflecting upon Hart's one-time ardour for Mistress Nell and upon the possibility that that ardour, if directed by himself, might yet compromise Nell in the King's eyes and lead to the realization of his own fond dreams of greater wealth and power and, still more sweet, to the possession of his choice among all the beauties of the realm.
”It is a sad hour,” thought Hart, glancing at the merry dancers through the arch, ”when all the world, like players, wear masks.”
Buckingham a.s.sumed an air of bonhomie.
”Whither away, Master Hart?” he called after the player, who started perceptibly at his voice. ”Let not thy fancy play truant to this gay a.s.semblage, to mope in St. James's Park.”
”My lord!” exclaimed Hart, hotly. The fire, however, was gone in an instant; and he added, evidently under strong constraint: ”Pardon; but we prefer to change the subject.”
”The drift's the same,” chuckled the shrewd Buckingham; ”we may turn it to advantage.” He approached the player in a friendly manner. ”Be not angry,” he exclaimed soothingly; ”for there's a rift even in the clouds of love. Brighter, man; for King Charles was seeking your wits but now.”
”He'd have me play court-fool for him?” asked the melancholy mime, who had in his nature somewhat of the cynicism of Jaques, without his grand imaginings of soul. ”There are many off the stage, my lord, in better practice.” ”True, most true,” acquiesced Buckingham; ”I could point them out.”
He would have continued in this vein but beyond the door, whence Hart had just appeared, leading by a stair-way of cupids to the entrance to the palace, arose the sound of many voices in noisy altercation.
”Hark ye, hark!” he exclaimed, in an alarmed tone. ”What is't? Confusion in the great hallway below. We'll see to't.”