CHAPTER XXIV
WHAT HAPPENED IN THE TOWER
Sir Julian had been striving for months to make peace with the young Duchess; but all effort appeared futile, until Providence suddenly stepped in and aided him. Cantemir had turned religious, owing to the taking hold upon him of a mortal disease; and though he had not been about to undo any of his schemes in Cedric's case, yet he intended to do so as soon as he was able. He was not idle, however, as he wrote many letters and received visits from the ones who were foremost in the fight. Nor was he long in discovering that their feelings were already changed toward Ellswold, for they saw 'twas unpopular to be striving against the King's desires, and against a nobleman who would be very powerful when he should regain his fortunes. The Count wrote to Pomphrey, saying he wished to speak face to face with him.
At this interview the Russian unburdened his heart of all malice and hatred, and gave vent to ill-gotten secrets, of which Buckingham's schemes were foremost. So open and frank was the Count in his assertions there was no doubt in Sir Julian's mind but what he had created an wholesome feeling with his conscience; and for himself, recognized the interview as nothing more nor less than the comely intervention of Providence.
Sir Julian determined upon an immediate rendezvous with Sir John Penwick, to the end that a concerted movement might effectually bring the Duke to his senses. He loved Buckingham, but he loved the Duchess of Ellswold more, and for this cause of peace, intended to hedge the Duke about with an impenetrable wall.
Buckingham soon saw that the strings were closing about him, and that 'twas Sir Julian who held the taut ends. But the great Duke had still one more move, a move so venturesome, so involved with hazard, that when 'twas made, the King himself admired and paid homage to its projector.
The Duke knew that Sir Julian, with a whisper in the King's ear, could send him to the Tower. So at the point of Sir Julian's sword—metaphorically—he was forced to go to the King and straighten matters as best he could. This the great Duke did, with the most exquisite urbanity. He knew well the King's humour, and the most propitious moment in it, and propinquity played him fair, and there vibrated in his Majesty's ear the dulcet tones of George Villiers magnetic voice, saying,—
"Oh, King! may I tell thee of what foul issue fulsome Nature hath brought forth, and what travail I suffer for—"
"Odd's fish! what hast thou been doing, George, what hast thou—"
"Oh, King!" and the Duke bowed upon his knee and touched with his lips the great ring upon his Majesty's hand; "I did engender with a brain unwebbed by wine, a body ample of strength and health, my soul absolved, my heart palpitant with pure love and rich intention; but corruptible Nature hath adulterated and brought forth an oaf, to which I lay no claim—"
"Egad! Duke; we'll wager a kilderkin of chaney oranges at four pence each and a dozen cordial juleps with pearls that thy conscience is about to bewray thee."
"Your Royal Highness doth honour me by the assumption that such a kingly component is mine. I cannot gainsay thy assertion, but who but my King could touch to life the almost undefined limning of moral faculty that has been my poor possession heretofore—"
"And who but thy King would give to thy swart issue a, no doubt, condign interest; come, curtail loquacity!"
"Then, your Majesty, to be brief, I have raised for thee the subsidies thou were too modest to ask the House for—"
"Odd's fish, and this is thine oaf; oaf, callest thou it, when it has brought unspeakable joy to thy King? Not so, 'tis an issue that outshines in weight, point of beauty and actual worth that bouncing youngster of Ellswold's."
"But, oh! King, I counted not upon the exigencies of thy love. I thought only of the pleasure 'twould give thee to have subsidies without plea, and I have made two of thy favourites my victims. How should I know that the Duke and Duchess of Ellswold were to become nestlings in thy cradle of love?" The King's face darkened, but for a moment only, as the sunshine of full coffers had penetrated the vista of his needs, and a cloud even though it bore the after-rain was not to darken his expectations. "I beg thine indulgence to allow me to presume upon fancy. Supposing Sir John Penwick was alive and had committed a crime that made it impossible for him to seek the aid of his beloved King; that the said Sir John has vast possessions in the New World that rightfully belonged to the English crown as hostage for his own life, that had been in the hands of the French; that these matters had been brought to the King's ear, but his Royal Highness had been troubled with weightier affairs at home, and that one of his very lowly but loyal subjects had undertaken, without aid of Government, to secure these possessions for his King, calling to his aid the generosity of Ellswold, who was willing to give all without knowing why, save 'twas for his King and—"
"And Penwick has proven guiltless and comes to his King to claim his rightful possession;—and the subsidies—"
"Are still thine, and thou shalt have them within a fortnight, if thou wilt grant me one small request, oh! King."
"Thou hast it. Be brief."
"Of my appointment, a new keeper of the Tower." The King started and half turned from the Duke, while through his mind ran hurriedly the names of "Chasel, Howard, Baumais" and "who hath he in mind." Then like a flash came the thought of Lady Constance, and he turned about quickly and said with severity,—
"Thou hast our word," and with a gesture gave the Duke his congé.
That very night just as the early moon began to whiten the Towers of old London, the key turned in the door of Lady Constance' cell; but turned so lazily—either from indolence or an unaccustomed hand—that her ladyship looked up and saw to her surprise a new gaoler. He smiled, thereby giving to the heart of its object a great thrill of joy, for it meant kindliness and kindliness is often predicated of selfishness or a desire for things one has not.
"What is thy name, fool?"
"Just plain Fool," and he gave her due obeisance.
"And why so?"
"Is it not enough to be so christened by so great a lady?"
"Then thou art not a subsidiary but chief factotum?"
"Aye, the other is ill and I have spent the afternoon in learning the—names."
"Thou shouldst be well paid for so short a season.—Is he serious?"
"I hope so, good lady."
"Oh! if thou wouldst make profit of thy time, begin by bringing hither for my supper good ale and wine, with sugar and spices; and I will brew thee such a horn as thou hast ne'er thought on before. And thou for each good turn shalt drink a wassail to thy buxom wench and shalt have money for the basset-table."
It is needless to say that Buckingham knew his man, and Constance' desires for one whom she could bribe. The latter's first and only desire was for means of escape, and to this end tried to bribe the keeper for man's attire. This was not the Duke's aim, and Constance, being thwarted, struck quickly upon another means.
She succeeded in getting the promise of a visit from Cantemir, who was little able to be about, but he intended to see her of his own accord, that he might move her to a lively interest in the salvation of her soul.
In anticipation of his visit, Constance had obtained through the gaoler certain drugs of nondescript virtues. These she carefully hid and made her final preparations for a speedy flight.
Cantemir stopped for a moment, as he stepped from the chair, and looked up at the prison walls, that were made grey and indistinct by the clouded moon and falling rain. Religion had changed him even more than the ravages of disease. His true self had awakened, and the beauty of it had devoured the Satanic expression that was wont to lie upon his countenance. His face fairly beamed with a light that came from within, where his soul stirred now free from sin's fetters.
He was conducted by the keeper through the windings of the sombre corridors to the cell of Constance, who greeted him with the words:
"Now, Adrian, we can excuse wantonness in the devil, but never slothfulness in religion. We have no shrines here as abroad; what has kept thee from thy captive cousin?"
"I am not late, Constance; thou art impatient, and as for shrines, I carry one in my heart all the time, and thou must have one, too—"
"Damn! We have no time to prate. I must get out of this vile hole.—Hast thou seen the devil Duchess lately?"
"Aye, yesterday I saw her riding out. She is very beautiful, but she has changed—"
"Changed—how?"
"She has grown fleshy—"
"Ah! say not 'fleshy' but fat! fat! Now what good fortune is this? The
Duke will be getting a divorce, for he doth abominate a fat woman.
Good, good! I must see her. I shall pay her a visit before I leave for
France."
"Thou wilt have far to journey, for they leave at once for Ellswold.
The case will be settled within a few days at most."
"A few days at most? Legal folderol, a mere shade of a trial. Aye; I must see her Grace. I have a message for her."
"I will serve thee; Constance, I will take thy message—" Adrian was interrupted by the entrance of the gaoler, who brought in cordial juleps. Her ladyship made the fellow drink, before she would allow him to go. Then, as he left them again, she said,—
"Thou canst not; it is a message no one can deliver but me," and as if to seal her words she poured down a good, round bumper.
"What dost mean, Constance? Thou art too subtle for me!"
"Too subtle? Hast thou lost the art of penetration? Then I'll tell thee, thou—the 'Ranter,' as they call thee. Thou who hast become Bunyan's squire. I am going to poison my lady or give her a dagger thrust. She must die."
"Thou art the devil, Constance; but there is one who can outwit the devil, and he will do it, too."
"What hast thou to say about it?"
"Thou shalt not do it."
"What wilt thou do to prevent it?"
"I will put the house of Ellswold on their guard."
"Thou wilt not help me to escape, and thou wilt run with tales to Ellswold. Thou wouldst keep me here, that I might soon die, so thou couldst have my estates. Poor, puny thing, that art upon death's threshold now. Thou wouldst have me die, so thou couldst live luxuriously and use as much of my wealth as thou couldst, leaving behind a paltry residue for the Crown. Thou wouldst indeed!" said Constance, scornfully, as she fumbled in the folds of her dress for the small bottle hidden there.
"Constance," said Cantemir, under his breath, as he lifted one of the mixtures before him, "thou must not kill. Let me awaken thy better nature—"
"Nay; she must die!"
"I will not remain longer with thee, if thou dost hold such foul intent. Take back thy words. I will give thee no rest until thou dost. There is a God who will sweeten thy ill feeling for Katherine—"
"Shut thy mouth, fool!" and she spoke with such fury Adrian's heart sank within him, and his head fell upon his arms upon the table. "Thou wilt have a season of prayer, then; so be it. Maybe, if thou prayest with thy whole heart for sixty seconds, mine will change," and as she said the words, she dropped some deadly thing into his glass.
The wine was not moved nor discoloured, and as Cantemir raised his head, took hold upon it, and lifted and drank it nearly half.
"I love thee, cousin, with a Christian spirit, and I cannot see thee lose thy—soul." A shiver passed through his thin frame, and when he again began to speak, he drooled sick'ningly. "I say thou shalt not—kill her—and some one—else says it—I will watch thee in spirit—"
Constance wished him to die quickly, that she might not be obliged to look upon prolonged horrors. She could easily arrange his position, with his head upon the table, to look quite natural, as if in drunken sleep, and when the keeper came, she would give him a like portion, before he could make any discovery, and when they were both despatched, she would don Cantemir's attire and take the keeper's keys and be gone. She quickly poisoned another glass, then looked at Cantemir. So horrible was the glassy glare in his eye, she made as if to arise from the table, but he leant over and grasped her hand. Constance' face was livid with fear, and beside, she heard the gaoler. As the keys were turned in the door, Cantemir's head dropped back against the chair, and he sat upright, but dead; his hand fastened tight upon his cousin's. She screamed and fell, half-fainting, across the table. The keeper sprung to her aid, and took hold of the full goblet of wine and pressed it to her lips. She tried to recover herself, seeming to know 'twas not the time to indulge in a fainting fit; but the strain was too much, her body was stronger than her mind, and she mechanically took the goblet and poured the contents down her throat. A thought must have come to her with the rapidity of lightning, for she jerked the goblet from her mouth, spilling the dark fluid over her. She glared at the empty cup with distended eyeballs, and screaming once wildly, fell heavily across the table.
It had turned out differently and better than Buckingham had thought; and after making a hasty trip into France, whence he was immediately recalled by his King—who was luxuriating in the easement of pecuniary difficulties—he journeyed to Ellswold to present to the young Duchess certain rare laces, gems and porcelains he had found—so he intimated—among the Russian Count's possessions.