Part 46 (2/2)
She went to St. James's Palace and took with her several of her servants.
”Dismantle those rooms,” she ordered. ”Take everything ... the mirrors from the walls and the locks from the doors.”
Her servants were bewildered by these orders but they knew better than to disobey.
They took the locks from the doors and Sarah declared that she would have the chimney-pieces in time.
Back to Marlborough House went Sarah, laughing exultantly as she thought of those rooms, the doors that would not even shut, the walls denuded of their mirrors.
”Wait ... wait until I get the chimney-pieces,” she promised herself.
Marlborough seeing what she had done was aghast.
”This is folly, Sarah,” he warned.
”Folly! You think I should meekly stand aside and allow them to insult me. I am told to go ... so I will go ... and I will take what belongs to me with me. Do not think this is all. I shall send back and have the very chimney-pieces brought to me.”
”No, Sarah, no.”
”I tell you, I will.”
”Sarah, are you mad?”
”Mad I may be, but at least I am not a coward.”
”This was a foolish thing to do.”
”Foolis.h.!.+ To show the world how ill I have been used! I would have everyone know that the d.u.c.h.ess of Marlborough does not lightly take insults even if her husband does. I'll have those chimney-pieces.”
”You will not.”
Sarah stopped her tirade to stare at him.
”What?” she cried.
”I said you will take nothing more from the Palace.”
”I have sworn to have those chimney-pieces.”
”I have sworn that you will not.”
She was silent and he went on: ”Sarah, for your own sake ... for both our sakes ... be calm ... be dignified. We are on the edge of disaster. For G.o.d's sake don't send us hurtling down to utter destruction.”
She looked at him and saw the pain in his eyes, the weariness of anxiety.
Then she threw herself at him and burst into tempestuous weeping. He led her to a couch and they sat there together until he had calmed and comforted her.
Abigail came to the Queen to tell her that Lady Marlborough had removed herself and her belongings from the palace.
”For ever,” declared Anne. ”She shall never come back.”
”Your Majesty is now rid of a nuisance.”
”Oh, Masham, how relieved I am! I cannot tell you what a threat that woman has been to me.”
”A fury, Madam, as they call her in the lampoons. She leaves much damage behind her.”
Abigail told the Queen of the dismantled apartments. ”The very locks have gone! She bade her servants remove them.”
”Oh, what a wild woman she is!” cried Anne.
”But she has gone, Your Majesty. You need never see her again.”
”Nor shall I. But to defame the palace! And when I think of all the money we are spending to build a palace for her and her husband. The cost of Blenheim is terrifying, Masham ... quite terrifying.”
”It seems incongruous, Madam. You are supplying money to build her a palace while she is destroying yours.”
”It is quite incongruous. I have made up my mind. There shall be no more money for Blenheim. I shall build no house for the d.u.c.h.ess of Marlborough while she is pulling mine down.”
These were indeed dark days for the Marlboroughs. Sarah deprived of her offices; Marlborough uncertain of what support he would receive from the Government; and Blenheim Palace which was to have been presented to them by the Queen and a grateful nation unfinished and the work on it stopped by royal command.
DISGRACE AND DEPARTURE.
he Queen was dozing in her chair when Abigail told her that the Abbe Guiscard was waiting to see her.
”I will see him, Masham,” said Anne, smiling. ”He is such a brave man, and we must show how pleased we are to receive those who desert Catholicism for our Faith.”
Abigail brought the Abbe to the Queen and retired into an ante-room where she could hear all that took place between the Queen and her visitor-a long-standing habit of Abigail's.
Anne, peering myopically at her visitor, did not notice how wild his eyes were and how his lips twitched. She saw a brave Frenchman forced to leave his native country on account of his religion. He had impressed certain people and as a result had been given the command of one of the regiments abroad and had committed himself with valour-so rumour said-at Almanza.
Declaring that such men should receive encouragement in England Anne had arranged that he should receive a pension of four hundred pounds a year. Guiscard, in London, had been taken up by society and gave hair-raising accounts of military adventures in which he was always the central figure. Many of these had been recounted to Anne and it was for this reason that she had been willing to grant the interview.
As soon as he was alone with the Queen, Guiscard became disrespectful.
”I am offered a pension of four hundred pounds a year,” he said in a loud voice. ”How do you think a man such as I can live on such a pittance?”
Having expected a display of grat.i.tude for her beneficence Anne was astounded, but before she could answer, Guiscard continued that he had thought it would be worth his while to come to England where he had expected to receive better treatment than he had. He might have stayed in France and been paid better for his services.
”The interview is over,” Anne told him coolly. ”You may retire.”
”But I have not finished,” cried Guiscard. ”I tell you this: I'll not accept your miserable four hundred a year. I shall give my services to those who are prepared to pay what they are worth.” He rose and stood towering over the Queen who, her feet swathed in bandages, was unable to move.
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