The green volumes in which, for the next thirteen years, Captain Barker kept accurate chronicle of Tristram's progress, and of every fact, however trivial, that seemed to illustrate it, have since been lost to the world, as our story will show. There were thirty-seven of these volumes; and as soon as one was filled Dr. Beckerleg presented another. It is our duty to take up the tale on the 1st of May, 1691—the very day upon which misfortune stopped Captain Barker's pen and (as it turned out) closed hismagnum opusfor ever.
Let us record only that during these thirteen years Tristram added so much to his stature as to astonish his friends whenever they looked at him; and that he took little interest in the affairs of the world beyond the privet hedge—affairs which just then were extremely unsettled and disturbed the sleep and appetite of a vast number of people. To begin with, King Charles had died without doing his faithful subjects the honour of explaining whether he did so as a Protestant or a Papist, an uncertainty which caused them endless trouble. The religion of his brother and successor, though quite unambiguous, put them to no less vexation by being incurably wrong; and after four years of heated controversy they felt justified in flocking, more in sorrow than in anger, round the standard of William, Prince of Orange, who agreed with them on first principles and had sailed into Torbay before an exceedingly prosperous breeze. King James having escaped to Saint Germains, King William reigned in his stead, to the welfare of his people and the disgust of Captain Barker and Captain Runacles, who from habit were unable to regard a Dutchman otherwise than as an enemy to be knocked on the head. Moreover, they retained a warm respect for the seamanship of their ejected Sovereign, under whom they had frequently served, when as Duke of York he had commanded the British Fleet.
Now, shortly after daybreak upon May morning, 1691—which fell on a Friday—his Majesty King William the Third set out from Kensington for Harwich, where a squadron of five-and-twenty sail, under command of Rear-Admiral Rooke, lay waiting to escort him to The Hague, there to open the summer campaign against King Lewis of France. This expedition raised his Majesty's spirits for more than one reason. Not only would it take him for some months out of a country he detested, and back to his beloved Holland—the very flatness of which was inexpressibly dear to his recollection, though he had left it but a month or two—but the prospect of this year's campaign had awakened quite an extraordinary enthusiasm in England. For the first time since Henry the Eighth had laid siege to Boulogne, an English army commanded by an English king was about to exhibit its prowess on Continental soil. It became the rage among the young gentlemen of St. James's and Whitehall to volunteer for service in Flanders. The coffee-houses were threatened with desertion, and a prodigious number of banquets had been held by way of farewell. The regiments which marched into Harwich on the last day of April to await the King were swollen with recruits eager for glory. Addresses of duty and loyalty met his Majesty at every halting-place, and acclamations followed the royal coach throughout the route. The townsfolk of Harwich, in particular, had hung out every scrap of bunting they could find, besides erecting half a dozen triumphal arches, which by their taste and magnificence were calculated to leave the most favourable impression in the Sovereign's mind.
The first of these arches, bearing the inscriptionGod Save King William, Defender of our Faith and Liberty, was erected on the London road, a dozen paces beyond the Fish and Anchor Inn, Captain Barker having refused the landlord—who desired to build the arch right in front of his inn-door—permission to set up any pole or support against the privet hedge. In fact, he and Captain Runacles had sworn very heartily to sit indoors, pull down their blinds and withhold their countenances from the usurper.
Nature, however, which regards neither the majesty of kings nor the indignation of their subjects, made frustrate this unamiable design.
At twenty minutes past four that afternoon a hiveful of Captain Barker's bees took it into their heads to swarm.
It was a warm afternoon, and the little man sat in his library composing a letter to Mr. John Ray, of Cambridge University, whose forthcomingHistoria Plantarumhe believed himself to be enriching with one or two suggestions on hibernation. Narcissus Swiggs was down at the Fish and Anchor drinking King William's health. Tristram, who was supposed to be at work clipping the privet hedge around the apiarium, was engaged in the summer-house, at the far end of it, upon business of his own.
This business—the nature of which shall be explained hereafter— completely engrossed him. Nor did he even hear the restless hum of the bees at the mouth of the hive, ten paces away, nor the noisy bustle of the drones. It was only when the swarm poured out upon the air with a whir of wings and, darkening for an instant the sunny doorway of the summer-house, sailed over the yew hedge towards the road, that Tristram leapt to his feet and ran at full speed towards the pavilion.
"The bees have swarmed!" he called out, thrusting his head in at the library window.
Captain Barker dropped his pen, bounced up, and came rushing out by the front-door.
"Where?"
"Down towards the road."
Years had not tamed the little hunchback's agility. Without troubling to fetch hat or wig, he raced down the garden path, and had almost reached the gate before Tristram caught him up.
"Up or down did they go?" he asked, standing in the middle of the road, uncertain in which direction to run.
"Across, most likely; but higher up than this, by the line they took," Tristram answered, pointing in the direction of the town. "Hullo!"
"What is it?"
"Why, look: there—under the arch!"
Beneath the very centre of the triumphal arch, and directly under the sacred name of King William, there hung a black object larger than a man's head and in shape resembling a bunch of grapes. It was the swarm, and a very fine one, numbering—as Captain Barker estimated— twenty thousand workers at the very least. He ran under the arch, and nearly cricked his neck staring up at them.
His excited motions had been seen by a small knot of wagoners and farm-hands, who were drinking and gossiping on the benches before the Fish and Anchor, to wile away the time of waiting for the King's arrival. At first they thought the royal cavalcade must be in sight, though not expected for an hour or more; and hurried up in twos and threes.
"What's the to-do, Captain?"
"Where's that lumbering fool Narcissus?" demanded Captain Barker, stamping his foot and pointing to the cluster over his head.
Mr. Swiggs came forward, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He had been the last to arrive, having lingered a minute to attend to the half-emptied mugs of his more impatient fellows.
"Here," he announced.
"Fetch a ladder, and bring one of the new hives—the one I rubbed with elder-buds the day before yesterday. Tristram, run to the house for my gloves and a board. Quick, I say—here, somebody kick that one-eyed dawdler! What the plague? Haven't there been kings enough in England these last fifty years that you waste a good afternoon on the look-out for the newest?"
"You'll be careful of my arch, Captain?" the landlord hazarded nervously. "His Majesty'll be coming along presently—"
"I'll be careful of my bees. D'ye want me to leave them there till he passes, and maybe to lose the half of my swarm down the nape of his royal neck? I can't help their wearing the orange: they were born o' that colour, which is more than you can say, landlord, or any man Jack here present. But I can prevent their swarming and buzzing in his Majesty's path like any crowd of turncoats. Ah, here comes Tristram with the ladder! Set it here, my boy. Take care—don't run a hole throughKing William—leave that to his new friends. So— now pull on the gloves and step up, while I come after with the hive!"
Tristram, having fixed the ladder firmly a little to the right of the swarm, began to ascend. Captain Barker, giving orders to Narcissus to stand by with the flat board, took the empty hive, and holding it balanced upside-down in the hollow of his palm, was preparing to follow on Tristram's heels, when an interruption occurred.
Round the corner of the road from Harwich town came a red-coated captain, riding on a grey charger, and behind him a company of foot marching eight abreast, with a sergeant beside them.
"Hullo!" cried the Captain, halting his company and riding forward. He was a thin and foppish young gentleman in a flaxen wig, and spoke with a high sense of authority, having but recently sacrificed the pleasures of his coffee-house and a fine view of St. James's Park to seek even in the cannon's mouth a bubble reputation that promised to be fashionable.
"Hullo! what's the meaning of this?"
"Bees," answered Captain Barker shortly. "Narcissus, is the board ready?"
"Do you know, sir, that his Majesty is shortly expected along here?"
"To be sure I do."
"Then, sir, you are obstructing the road. This is most irregular."
"Not at all—most regular thing in the world. A little early, perhaps, for the first swarm."
"Be so good as to take down that ladder at once, and let my company pass."
"A step higher, Tristram," said the little man, turning a deaf ear to this order. "Better use the right hand. Wait a moment, while I get the hive underneath."
"Take down that ladder!" shouted the red-coated officer.
"You must wait a moment, I'm afraid."
"You refuse?"
"Oh dear, yes! Keep back, sir, for the bees are easily frightened."
"Sergeant!" foamed the young man, "come and remove this ladder!"
He spurred his horse up to the arch as the sergeant stepped forward. The beast, being restive, rubbed against the ladder with his flank and shook it violently just as Tristram dislodged the swarm overhead. Captain Barker reached out, however, and caught them deftly in the upturned hive. Into it they tumbled plump. But the little man, exasperated by the shock, had now completely lost his temper. With sudden and infernal malice he inverted the beehive and clapped it, bees and all, on the officer's head.
With that he skipped down to the ground, and Tristram, foreseeing mischief, slid down after him quick as thought.
The officer roared like Hercules caught in the shirt of Nessus. Nor for a few seconds could he get rid of his diabolical helmet: for a couple of bees had stung the charger, which began to plunge and caper like a mad thing, scattering the crowd right and left with his hoofs. When at length he shook the hive off, the furious swarm poured out upon the air, dealing vengeance. The soldiers, whose red coats attracted them at once, fled this way and that, howling with pain, pursued now by the bees and now chased into circles by the lashing heels of the grey horse. The poor brute was stung by degrees into a frenzy. With a wild leap, in which his four legs seemed to meet under his belly, he pitched his master clean over the crupper and, as a wind through chaff, swept through the people at a gallop and off along the road towards the town.
"Phew!" whistled Captain John Barker: and stepping quickly to the prostrate officer he whipped the unhappy gentleman's sword from its sheath and handed it to Tristram.
"We'd best get out of this."
"That's not easy. There's a score of soldiers between us and the gate; and the sergeant looks like mischief."
"Bless my soul, what a face I've put on that young man!"
The officer, who had been stunned for a moment by his fall, was soon recalled to life by the pain of the stings. He sat up and looked round. Already his face had about as much feature as a turnip. His eyes were closing fast, and a lump as large as a plover's egg hung on his under-lip.
"Seize those men!" he shouted, and began a string of oaths, but stopped because the utterance caused him agony.
The sergeant, who had been bending over him, drew his side-arm and advanced—a hulking big fellow with a pimply face and an ugly look in his eye.
"Dad," said Tristram, "you made me promise once never to run a man through unless he molested me in the midst of a peaceful pursuit."
"Well?"
"It appears to me that bee-keeping is a peaceful pursuit."
"Decidedly."
"And that this fellow is going to molest me."
"It looks like it."
"Then I may run him through?"
"Say rather that you must."
"Thank you, dad. I felt sure of it; but this is the first time I've had to decide, and as it was a promise—You'd best get behind me, I think. Set your back to the arch. Now, sir."
"You are my prisoners," the sergeant announced.
"Pardon me. Let me direct your notice to this weapon, which is incarte—you seem to have overlooked it."
"You are making matters worse."
"That is very likely. Guard, sir, if you please!"
"You mean to resist?"
"Ah, have you grasped that fact, at last?"
The sergeant rushed upon him and crossed swords. His first lunge was put aside easily, and he was forced to break ground.
"Hullo! So you can really fence!" he panted, feinting and aiming a furious thrust at Tristram's throat.
"Upon my word," said Tristram, parrying, and running him through the thigh as he recovered, "this gentleman seems astonished at everything!"
As the sergeant dropped, Captain Barker darted from behind Tristram and pounced upon a musket which one of the soldiers had abandoned when first assailed by the bees.
"This gets serious," he muttered. "Those fellows yonder are fixing bayonets."
Indeed, some half a dozen of the red-coats had already done so, and surrender seemed but a matter of a few moments.
"Give me the musket," said Tristram placidly, "and take the sword. My arm is longer than yours. Now get behind my shoulder again. Don't expose yourself, but if one of these fellows slips under my guard, I leave him to you."
"Good boy!" murmured the little man, exchanging weapons. It is a fact that tears of pride filled his eyes.
"There are six of them. Excuse me, dad, if I ask you to look out for your head. I am going to try amoulinet."
The six soldiers came on in a very determined manner, each man presenting his bayonet at Tristram's chest. They had little doubt of his instant submission, and were considerably surprised when Tristram, lifting the musket by its barrel, began to whirl it round his head with the fury of a maniac. The foremost, as the butt whizzed by his cheek, drew back a pace.
"Run the rebels through!" cursed the officer behind them.
The leader shortened his grasp on his bayonet, and, watching his opportunity, dashed under Tristram's arm. At the same instant Captain Barker popped out, and with a quiet pass spitted him clean through the right lung.
"All together, you sons of dogs!" yelled the sergeant, who had dragged himself to a little distance, and was stanching the flow of blood from his wounded thigh.
Two of the soldiers heard the advice and came on together with a rush. The first of them caught the full swing of Tristram's musket on the side of his stiff cap and went down like an ox. The second took Captain Barker's sword through the left arm and dropped his bayonet. But before either Tristram or the Captain could disengage his weapon the other three assailants were upon them, and the fight was over.
"Surrender!" cried one, holding his point against Tristram's chest.
"Must I?" the latter inquired, turning to Captain Barker.
"H'm, there seems to be no choice."
"And you also, sir."
"Certainly. Here is my sword; it belongs to your captain yonder, whom you may recognise by his uniform. Assure him, with my compliments—"
He was interrupted by the clatter of hoofs, and two gentlemen on horseback came cantering up the road and drew rein suddenly.
"Hey! What have we here?" demanded a foreign voice.
The soldiers turned and presented arms in a flurry. The taller of the two horsemen was an extremely handsome cavalier in a nut-brown peruque and scarlet riding-suit on which several orders glistened. He bestrode a black charger of remarkable size and beauty; and seemed, by his stature and presence, to domineer over his companion, a small man with a hooked nose and an extremely emaciated face, who wore a plain habit of dark purple and rode a sorrel blood-mare of no especial points. Nevertheless it was this little man who had spoken, and at the sound of his voice a whisper ran through the crowd:
"The King!"
It was, in fact, his Majesty King William III., who, tired of the slow jolting of the royal coach along the abominable road of that period, had exchanged that equipage for his favourite mare and cantered ahead of his escort, refreshing his senses in the strong breeze that swept from seaward across the level country.
"Sir, will you be good enough to explain?" he demanded again, addressing the unfortunate officer, who had picked himself up from the road and stood covered with shame and swellings.
"Your Majesty, the two prisoners here were engaged in obstructing your Majesty's high-road."
"They seem to be still doing so."
"And knowing that your Majesty was shortly expected to pass, I proceeded to remove them."
"But what is this? A company of my foot-guards in confusion! One-two-three-four of them wounded—if, indeed, one is not killed outright! Do you tell me that this old man and this boy have done it all, besides bruising the faces of a dozen more?"
"They and a swarm of cursed bees, your Majesty."
"This is incredible!… Bees?"
"Yes, your Majesty," put in Captain Barker, "he is telling you the truth. You see, it happened that my bees swarmed this afternoon, and had no better taste than to alight on this arch, under which your Majesty was shortly expected to pass. We were about to hive them when this young gentleman came along at the head of his company, and there arose a discussion, at the end of which I hived him instead."
"But these wounded men—"
"Ah, your Majesty, it was unfortunate; but one can never tell where these discussions will end."
"Three of my men and a sergeant placedhors de combat—a dozen more unfit to be seen—an officer dismounted, and his whole company scattered like a flock of geese! I am seriously annoyed, sir. What is your name?"
"Sire, I am called Captain Barker, and was formerly an officer in the fleet of his late Majesty King Charles the Second."
"Barker… Barker? I seem to remember your name. Captain John Barker, are you not?"
"That is so."
"Sometime in command of theWaspfrigate?"
"Your Majesty has a perfect recollection of his most insignificant enemies."
King William bit his lip.
"My memory is good, Captain Barker, as you say. Why did you quit the service?"
"For private reasons."
"Come, sir; you were, if I remember right, a gallant commander. With such their country's service stands above private reasons. Of late your country's claim has been urgent upon all brave men; and, by the havoc I see around, you are not past warfare."
"Well, but—"
"Speak out."
"Sire, all my life I have fought against Dutchmen."
"You found them worthy foes, I expect."
"In all respects."
"Would they be less worthy allies?"
"Not at all. But consider, sire, the habits of a lifetime. From boyhood I never met a Dutchman whom it was not my duty to knock down. To-day, if I sailed in an English ship-of-war, what should I find? Dutchmen all around me. Your Majesty, I cannot speak the Dutch language except with a cutlass. I distrust my habits. They would infallibly lead to confusion. In the heat of action, for instance—"
The little man stopped abruptly. It seemed that his speech gave uncommon pleasure to the tall gentleman on the black charger, whose face twitched with a barely perceptible smile. King William, on the other hand, was frowning heavily.
"Sir," he said, "your tongue runs dangerously near sedition."
"I am sorry your Majesty thinks so."
"You are also very foolish. I find you incurring my just anger, and hint, as plainly as I can, at an honourable way of escape. Captain Barker, are you aware that your case is serious?"
"I am, sire. Nevertheless, I decline to escape by the road you are good enough to leave open."
"Your reasons?"
"They are private, as I had the honour to inform your Majesty."
"My lord," said the King, turning irritably to his companion, "what shall I do to this intractable old man? You have a voice in this, seeing that he has spoilt four of your favourite guards."
The tall man in scarlet bent and muttered a word or two in a low voice.
"Ah, to be sure: I had forgotten the youngster. Is this your son, sir?"
"By adoption only."
"A strapping fellow," said his Majesty, eyeing Tristram from head to foot.
"And as good as he's tall. Sire, his offence—if offence it be— arose from the affection he bears me, and from no worse cause. He would not willingly hurt a fly."
"What is he called?"
"Tristram."
"He has a second name, I suppose?"
"Tristram Salt, then, in full."
The man in scarlet at these words gave a quick, penetrating glance at the speaker, and for an instant seemed about to speak; but closed his lips again, and fell to regarding Tristram with interest, as King William went on:
"He ought to be in my army."
"Your Majesty does him much honour, but—"
"But?"
"May it please your Majesty, I had other intentions concerning him."
"My lord of Marlborough," said the King, turning coldly from the little man and pointing with his gloved hand towards Tristram, "allow me to present you with a recruit."
Captain Barker's face was twisted with a spasm of fury. But as he stammered for words another voice was lifted, and Captain Runacles came through the crowd. He had been fetched from his laboratory by Mr. Swiggs, and had arrived on the scene in time to hear the last sentence.
"Your Majesty! Listen to me!"
King William was turning calmly to ride back to his escort. But at sight of the intruder's commanding and venerable figure he checked his mare.
"Pray, sir, who are you? And what have you to say?"
"I'm Jeremy Runacles, and this lad's guardian."
"He is peculiarly unfortunate in the loyalty of his protectors."
"Sire, I have served my country in times past."
"I know it, Captain Runacles. But it seems that you, too, fight only against the Dutch."
"Your Majesty has, it appears, done me the honour to study my poor record."
"My word, sir! Does that surprise you?"
"No, sire, it reassures me. For you must be aware that I am no rebel."
"H'm."
"Though, to be sure, I cannot help my tastes."
"You may suffer for them, none the less."
"I am ready to pay for them. Since your Majesty has taken a fancy to this young man—"
"Who, by the way, has maltreated a whole company of my guards."
"—Permit me, as his guardian, to ransom him. He has large estates."
"You forget, sir," exclaimed the King haughtily, "that I am punishing him. Do you entertain the idea of bribing me?"
"I forget nothing, sire. I even remember that this is England, and not Holland."
"My lord," said William, turning to the Earl of Marlborough, "I pray you dispose of the recruit as you think fit. Have him removed, and have the highroad cleared of these rebels; for I see my escort down the road."
And touching the sorrel with his heel, his Majesty cantered back to meet the approaching cavalcade.
Night had fallen. It was past eight o'clock, and Captain John and Captain Jemmy sat facing each other, one on each side of the empty fireplace, in Captain John's library. They were in complete darkness—for the red glow of tobacco in the pipe which Captain Jemmy puffed dejectedly could hardly be called a light. For half an hour no word had been spoken, when somebody tapped at the door.
"What is it?" asked Captain Barker.
"A gentleman to see you," answered the voice of Mr. Swiggs.
"What's his name?"
"He won't say."
"Tell him I am busy to-night."
Narcissus withdrew, and knocked again a minute later.
"He says he must see you."
"Have you turned him out?"
"I told him you were busy with Captain Jemmy. 'Who's Captain Jemmy?' he asks. 'Captain Jemmy Runacles,' I answers. 'All the better,' says he."
"Excuse me," said a voice at the door; "but my business concerns both of you gentlemen. Also it concerns Tristram Salt."
"Narcissus, bring a couple of candles."
While Mr. Swiggs was executing this order an oppressive silence filled the room. The stranger's dark shadow rested motionless by the doorway. Above the breathing of the three men could only be heard the far-off sound of Harwich bells still ringing their welcome to King William.
When the candles were brought in and Narcissus had retired again after closing the shutters, the stranger removed the broad-brimmed hat and heavy cloak which he had worn till that moment, and tossed them negligently on the table before him.
It was the scarlet-coated cavalier who had ridden beside the King that afternoon.
"The Earl of Marlborough!"
"The same, sirs; and your servant."
"Be kind enough, my lord, to state the message you bring from your master, and to leave this house as soon as it is delivered."
To Captain Barker's astonishment, the Earl showed no sign of resenting this speech.
"You are wrong," he answered quietly; "William of Orange is not my master. If I mistake not, you and I, gentlemen, acknowledge but one sovereign ruler, King James."
At these bold words, uttered in the calmest voice, the two captains caught their breath and stared at each other. Captain Runacles was the first to recover. He laughed incredulously.
"Your lordship appears to have forgotten Salisbury."
Any other man would have winced at this taunt. But the Earl of Marlborough met it with the face of a statue.
"Captain Runacles, I have neither forgotten it nor am likely to. The remembrance of that affair has followed me night and day. I cannot—even now that I am pardoned—rid myself of its horror. I cannot eat; I cannot sleep. I see my crime in its true light, and am appalled by its enormity. And yet—God help me!—I thought at the time I was saving my country. Gentlemen, you, who have faced no such responsibility as then confronted me, will be apt to judge me without mercy. I know not if I can persuade you that my remorse is honest. But consider—Here am I at William's right hand, already rich and powerful, and possessing limitless prospects of increased power and riches. Yet am I ready to sacrifice everything, to brave everything, to bring utter ruin on my fortune, if only I can rid myself of this nightmare of shame. Is this the attitude of insincerity?"
"Upon my word, my lord, I'd give something to know why the devil you tell all this to us."
"I hardly know myself," answered the Earl, sighing deeply, but still without a grain of expression on his handsome face. "A man haunted as I am can hardly account for all his utterances. I have come to do you a service, and, having done it, might have withdrawn without a word. But the sight of you recalled the honest words you spoke to the usurper this afternoon. Sirs, I envied you then; and just now an insane longing took hold of me to set myself right with two such inflexible friends of King James."
"Would it not be more to the point if you first obtained pardon from King James himself?"
"I have done so."
"Well, my lord, I cannot yet see what your affairs have to do with us. But if it will give you any pleasure that we should believe these remarkable statements—"
"I have assured you that it will."
"Then perhaps you will produce some proof of them in black and white."
The Earl drew a folded paper from his breast and spread it upon the table before them. It was an affectionate letter of pardon, dated a month back from the Court of Saint Germains, written throughout and signed by the hand of King James himself.
"Thank you, my lord. When his Majesty writes thus, it is not for his subjects to bear rancour. Will you kindly state your immediate business?"
"It concerns the young man Tristram Salt. You desire that he should be restored to you?"
"My lord," said Captain Barker, "that young man is more to me than many sons."
"You are indignant at the recollection of this afternoon?"
"What has that to do with it?"
"Much. But let me continue. Your adopted son, Captain Barker, is at this moment lying in the hold of his Majesty's frigate theGood Intent. He is in irons."
"In irons!"
"Yes, sir. He has undoubtedly imbibed your opinions with regard to the Dutch, for he began his military career by blacking the eyes of a gentleman of that nation, who, as ill-luck will have it, is his superior officer."
"The devil!"
"To-morrow morning he will receive six dozen lashes—perhaps more. I take the most cheerful view in order to spare your feelings; but most decidedly it will be six dozen, unless—"
"Unless—what?"
"Unless I remit the sentence. The young man, you understand, was placed under my care."
"My lord, you will pardon him?"
"With pleasure. Nay, I will restore him to you this very night—"
Captain Barker leapt up from his seat in a transport of gratitude, and would have caught the Earl's hand had not his friend dragged him back by the coat-tails.
"—On conditions," his lordship concluded.
"Name them."
"In a moment. We are agreed, I believe, that to blacken a Dutchman's eyes is no great sin. There are too many Dutchmen around his Majesty—as you, sirs, had the courage to inform his Majesty this afternoon."
"Did we say that?"
"I understood you to hint it, at any rate. I assure you that I am never so much disposed to regret my change of allegiance on that November night at Salisbury as when I look around and see how little my own countrymen have profited by that action."
"A while ago," interposed Captain Runacles sharply, "it was the crime itself that pursued you with remorse." "The results, sir, have helped me to see the crime in its proper light."
"My lord, I have the deepest respect for your genius; but at the same time it appears to me that you lack something."
"Indeed? It would be a kindness to point out in what respect—"
"Let me call it—a gift. But I interrupt you."
"To proceed, then. We are at one on the question of these Dutchmen; at one also on the question of William's high-handed action this afternoon. Let me propose a plan by which you can effectively mark your disgust of both, while at the same time you recover the young man on whom you set so much store. Gentlemen, you are not past serving your country on the seas."
"King William hinted as much to-day," replied Captain Barker, "and I gave him my answer."
"I appeal to you not in the name of William, but in the name of your true sovereign, King James."
"That is another matter, I'll admit. Would you mind putting the question definitely?"
"I must have your word to regard what I am about to say as a secret."
"If it does not bind us in any way."
"It does not. You are free to accept or reject my offer."
"We promise, then."
"Listen: I am in a position to offer each of you the command of one of his Majesty's ships."
"As a condition of getting back Tristram tonight?"
The Earl nodded.
"But excuse me—"
"Ah, I know what you will say. It is a sacrifice of your leisure. I admit it; but from certain expressions of yours this afternoon I gathered that your love for this lad might overcome your natural disinclination."
"You mistake. I was about to say that this offer of yours strikes us as rather barren. At least it might have been kept until King James is restored to his country. In that event he may very well prefer to give his commands to younger men; but in any event he will find us obedient to his royal wish."
"That is a very loyal attitude. But, as it happens, you would be required to enter into your commands before his Majesty's restoration." "Explain yourself, my lord."
"I am not in a position to speak with authority or exactness of the events which will shortly take place in the British fleet. I am a mere soldier, you understand. But let us suppose a case. King William sails early to-morrow, with Rear-Admiral Rooke's squadron, for the Maese. Let us suppose that no sooner is his Majesty landed at The Hague and safe in his own beloved realm than our gallant English sailors display a just distaste for their Dutch commanders by setting those commanders ashore, and running—let us say—for Calais, where their true Sovereign waits to be conveyed across to the country which his rival has quitted. Obviously, for this purpose, the fleet would need, on the spot, capable officers to step into the shoes of the deposed Dutchmen."
"You propose that Jack and I shall be two of these officers?" asked Captain Runacles slowly, with a glance at his comrade.
"I think it advisable that you should be at The Hague. You understand that I merely sketch out a possible course of events."
"Of course. Do you think it likely that the British squadron— supposing it to behave as you say—would receive support at Calais?"
"I fancy it might find a large squadron of his French Majesty's fleet waiting there to co-operate."
"And the army?"
"It is possible that events might happen, about that time, among our regiments in Flanders."
"That, in other words, they would desert to King Lewis?"
"You put it crudely, Captain Runacles. I believe that our gallant soldiers will act with a single eye to their country's welfare; and I am sure they will do nothing that can be constructed as a blot upon their country's flag."
"I also am tolerably certain of that, my lord," answered Captain Jemmy drily. "Come, Jack—your answer?"
The little hunchback had been leaning back, during the last minute or two, with his face in the shadow; but at these words he bent forward. His cheeks were white and drawn.
"Why must I give the answer, Jemmy?" "Because the lad is your son. It rests with you to save him or not."
Captain Barker stood up.
"You'll abide by my decision?"
"Certainly." Captain Runacles crossed his legs and eyed the visitor deliberately.
"Then," said the little man, dragging out the words syllable by syllable, "there, my lord, are your hat and cloak. Oblige me by quitting this house of mine at once."
"God bless you, Jack!" muttered his friend. The Earl's brow did not even flush at the rebuff. Throughout his career this extraordinary man was able to overlook the contempt of others as easily as he disregarded their sufferings. Probably, as Captain Runacles had said, he lacked a gift.
On this occasion he picked up his hat and cloak without a trace of discomposure.
"I understand you to refuse my offer?" he said.
"Yes."
"You prefer that the young man should receive six dozen lashes to-morrow morning."
Captain Barker winced and his mouth contracted painfully.
"My lord, I took that boy from his dead mother when he was a few hours old. Never in his life has a hand been laid upon him in anger. He will hardly understand what it means. But he has been taught to know honour and to cherish it. I choose as he would choose, were he here."
"Are you going, my lord?" added Captain Jemmy. "You have your answer."
"Not quite yet, I fancy. Captain Barker, you told me you took this lad from his dead mother. She was a Mistress Salt, I believe."
"Excuse me if I fail to see—"
"You will see in a moment. I am not wrong, perhaps, in supposing that lady to have been the wife of Roderick Salt, sometime my comrade in the Foot Guards. He married in Harwich, I remember; and in many respects the resemblance which this lad bears to him is remarkable."
"There is no likeness in their characters, my lord."
"I daresay not; indeed, I hope not. But suppose now I inform you that Roderick Salt is still alive—"
The Earl broke off and looked at the two captains narrowly.
"Did you know that?" he asked.
There was no answer.
"I seem to remember an expression which you, Captain Runacles, let fall this afternoon. You told his Majesty that Tristram Salt owned large estates. Is the boy's father aware of this?"
Again he paused for an answer, but none came.
"These estates are administered under trust, I presume. Who are the legal trustees?"
"I am," Captain Jemmy replied, with a sudden effort.
"You alone?"
Captain Jemmy, after struggling for a moment with the wrath in his throat, answered:
"I refuse to say."
"Well, well, the affair seems to need some explanation, but doubtless admits of a very good one. It is none of my business, and I do not ask you to satisfy me. But I cannot help thinking that Roderick Salt will be hardly more astonished to find that his son is a man of large estates than disposed to make inquiries."
"What do you mean, my lord?"
"I mean that, as father and son happen at this moment to lie aboard the same vessel, theGood Intent—"
The chair which Captain Barker had been grasping and tilting impatiently fell to the floor with a crash.
"—I foresee a scene of happy recognition and mutual explanations. We will suppose the father to learn the truth before to-morrow's punishment is inflicted. We will picture his feelings"—the Earl paused, and fired a shot more or less at a venture—"when he becomes aware that, though by law enabled to buy his son off from military service, he has by chicanery been rendered powerless. We will imagine him an enforced spectator, wincing as each stroke draws blood."
"You will do this thing! You will tell him!"
"My dear sirs, I shall hate to do it. In proof that I speak sincerely, let me say that my offer still remains open. May I now count on your accepting it?"
"No!" thundered the little man, springing forward in a fury. Captain Jemmy caught him by the arm, however, and forced him back to the arm-chair. The Earl shrugged his shoulders.
"Truly you are a Roman parent," said he, bowing ironically; "but you will excuse me if I find it time to seek the lad's natural father. Remember, if you please, gentlemen, your promise of silence."
He opened the door and passed quietly through the hall and out of the house. In the road at the foot of the garden a sergeant stepped out of the shadow and saluted him.
The Earl gave a muttered order.
"Where is my horse?" he asked.
"A little up the road, my lord. The orderly is walking him up and down to keep him warm."
The Earl nodded and walked on. A hundred yards farther he came up with them, and, climbing into the saddle, trotted off towards Harwich, the orderly at his heels.
At the Cock and Pye Stairs a boat was waiting. He dismounted and, giving his horse over to the orderly, stepped on board and was rowed swiftly out towards the harbour, where the lights of the squadron flickered and its great hulls brooded over the jet-black water. As the boat crossed under the tilted stern and high, flaming lanterns of Rear-Admiral Rooke's ship, theForesight, the sentry on deck sang out his challenge.
It was answered. The boat dropped alongside and the Earl climbed upon deck. Turning at the top of the ladder, he gave his boatman the order to wait for half an hour, and acknowledging the sentry's salute, made his way aft, and down the companion-stairs to the cabin set apart for him.
In the passage below was a second sentry, pacing up and down; and by the Earl's door an orderly standing ready.
"Send Captain Salt to me. After that, you may retire."
The man saluted and went off on his errand, and the Earl stepped into his cabin. The furniture of this narrow apartment consisted of a hanging-lamp, a chair or two, a chest heaped with dispatch-boxes and a swing-table upon which a map of the Low Countries was spread amid regimental lists and reports, writing materials, works on fortification, official seals and piles of papers not yet reduced to order. Pushing aside the map and a treatise by the Marechal de Vauban that lay face downwards upon it, the Earl drew a blank sheet of paper towards him, dipped pen in ink, and after a moment's consideration scribbled a sentence. Then, sprinkling it quickly with sand, he folded the paper, and was about to seal it, when a light tap sounded on the cabin-door.
"Come in," said the Earl quietly, holding the sealing-wax to the flame, and without troubling to turn.
The man who stood on the threshold demands a somewhat particular description.
He was tall and of an eminently graceful figure. The uniform which he carried—that of a captain in the 1st or Royal Regiment of Foot— well set off his small waist, deep chest and square shoulders. His complexion was clear and sanguine, albeit no longer retaining the candour of youth; his wig was carefully curled, and in colour a light golden-brown. Though in fact his age was not far short of fifty, he looked hardly a day older than thirty-five.
In many respects his resemblance to Tristram was exceedingly close. The stature and proportions were Tristram's; the nose like Tristram's in shape, but slightly longer; the eyes of the same greyish blue, though in this case deep lines radiated from the outer corners. Above all, there was a fugitive, baffling likeness, that belonged to no particular feature, but to all. On the other hand, the difference in expression between the two faces was hardly less striking: for whereas Tristram's beamed a modest kindliness on his fellows, this face looked out on the world with an unshrinking audacity. Beside it the Earl of Marlborough's handsome countenance seemed to lack intelligence; but the Earl's countenance was then, and remains to-day, an impenetrable mask.
"You sent for me, my lord?" Captain Salt's voice was silvery in tone and pleasant to hear as running water.
"I did," said the Earl, pressing his seal upon the letter and sitting down to direct it. "You have the lists?"
The other drew a bundle of papers from his breastpocket, and advancing, laid them upon the table. The Earl put the letter aside, opened the bundle and ran his eye over its contents.
"You are sure of all these men?"
"Quite."
"You seem to have enough. We mustn't overdo this, you understand? It wouldn't do for the affair to—succeed."
Captain Salt smiled.
"If they carry off a vessel or two," the Earl went on, "it's no great loss, and it will give Saint Germains the agreeable notion that something is about to happen. They've been plaguing me again. This time it's an urgent letter in my royal master's own hand. He calls on me to bring over the whole army in the very first action—the born fool! Can he really believe I love him so dearly? Has he really persuaded himself that I've forgotten—?"
He checked himself; but for the first time that evening his face was suffused with a hot flush. For, in fact, he was thinking of his sister, Arabella Churchill; and John Churchill, though he had made no scruple to profit by his sister's shame, had never forgiven it.
Captain Salt filled up the pause in his dulcet voice: "We want, my lord, such a mutiny as, without succeeding, shall convince England of the strong dissatisfaction felt by our forces at the favouritism shown by his Majesty towards the Dutch."
"Salt," said his lordship, eyeing him narrowly, "you are remarkably intelligent."
"Why, my lord, should I conceal my thoughts when they tally with my honest hopes? I look around, and what do I see? Dutchmen filling every lucrative post; Dutchmen crowding the House of Lords; Dutchmen commanding our armies; Dutchmen pocketing our fattest revenues. England is weary of it. I, as an Englishman, am weary of it. My lord, if I dared to say it—"
"Would you mind looking out and observing if the sentry is at his post?"
Captain Salt stepped to the door and opened it. The sentry was at the far end of the passage, engaged in his steady tramp to and fro.
"My lord," he said, closing the door softly and returning, "let this mutiny fail! It will serve its purpose if it brings home to the understanding of Englishmen the iniquity of this plague of Dutchmen. Let that feeling ripen. You will return before the winter, and by that time you may strike boldly. Then, from your place in the House of Lords, you can move an address—"
"Go on," murmured the Earl, as he paused for a moment.
"—An address praying that all foreigners may be dismissed from his Majesty's service."
The Earl looked up swiftly and checked his fingers, which had been drumming on the table.
"Decidedly you are intelligent," he said very slowly.
"What can William do if that address is carried, as it may be? To yield will be to discard his dearest friends: to resist will mean a national rising. He will lose his crown."
"And then?"
"My lord,may it not be possible to eject William without restoring James?"
"Ah!"
"There is the Princess Anne."
The Earl looked into his companion's eyes and read his own thoughts there. James was a Papist, William a Dutchman; but the Princess Anne was an Englishwoman and a Protestant. And the Earl and his Countess held the Princess Anne under their thumbs. Let her succeed to the throne, and he would be, to all intents, King of England. Nay, he would hold the balance of Europe in his palm.
"My friend," he said, under his breath, "you are too dangerous." Aloud he gave the talk a new turn.
"This mutiny will not succeed," he observed reflectively. "The men who intend to rise must be informed against."
"It appears so."
"But not too soon. They must not succeed, as I said; but they must have time enough to show their countrymen that the discontent is serious, and to convince James that only an accident has prevented their coming over to him in a body."
"That is clear enough."
"The only question," the Earl pursued, "is—who is to give the information at the proper moment?"
"Undoubtedly that is a difficulty."
"I thought—excuse me if I come to the point—I thought thatyoumight do so."
"My lord!"
"You object?"
"Decidedly I do. Already I have risked too much in this business."
"I can think of nobody," said the Earl coldly, "so well suited for the task. William thinks you are his spy, and would receive your information without suspicion. He does not guess that, owing to my knowledge of your past—of the affair of the dice at Antwerp, for instance, or that trivial letter from Saint Germains which I happen to possess—"
Captain Salt's sanguine cheeks were by this time white as death.
"If you insist—" he stammered in a hoarse voice that bore no resemblance to his natural tone.
"I'm afraid I must. At the same time I mean to reward you," the Earl continued pleasantly; "and a portion of the reward shall be paid in advance. My dear captain, I have the most delightful surprise for you. You were once a married man, and the lady you married was a native of this port."
"Thank you, my lord; I was aware of the fact."
"You left her."
"I did."
"And in your absence she bore you a son."
"I have since heard a rumour to that effect," said Captain Salt coldly.
"Cherish that son, for his worth to you is inestimable. He lies, at this moment, on board theGood Intent—I regret to say in irons. His Majesty enlisted him this afternoon, somewhat against his will, and he began very unluckily by kicking his superior officer from one end of the frigate to the other. It was the natural ebullition of youth, and the sergeant was a Dutchman. Therefore in this letter I have pardoned him. Take it—a boat is waiting for you—and convey it to his captain. Thereafter seek the poor lad out and imprint the parental kiss upon both cheeks. Reveal yourself to him!"
"Your lordship is excessively kind, but I stand in no immediate need of filial love."
"My dear sir, I promise you that this son means thousands in your pocket. He means to you a calm old age, surrounded by luxuries which are hardly to be gained by espionage, however zealously practised."
"In what way, may I inquire?"
"I will inform you when you have done the small service I asked just now."
Captain Salt took the letter and moved towards the door.
"By the way," the Earl said, "it may be painful to you to be reminded of your former connection with Harwich; but did you happen to know, in those days, two gentlemen, captains in King Charles's Navy, and natives, I believe, of this town—Barker and Runacles?"
"I did. They were both, at one time, suitors for the hand of my late wife."
"Indeed? I have been trying to enlist them for this business of the mutiny."
"They were a simple pair, I remember, and would serve our purpose admirably."
"I found them a trifle too simple. Well, I won't keep you just now. Remember the help I expect from you; but we will talk that over in a day or two. Meanwhile, keep a parent's eye upon your son (he's called Tristram), for through him your reward will be attained. Good night."