CHAPTER XXXII.
It is a hard task for a frank and honest mind to assume an easy and a careless air when there are dark thoughts and heavy doubts within. Gowrie did not return to the court on the day after his conversation with Sir George Ramsay. He felt that he could not banish the impression that he had received from his demeanour. On the following day, however, he did go to Holyrood, and was extremely graciously received; and for a week more he continued to frequent the court with other men of his rank and station. The queen always received him with peculiar favour; and in her circle he met with many of those whom he loved and esteemed, so that he gradually regained all his cheerfulness, although he was not inclined to share in the somewhat boisterous mirth of the king, or to take part in his vulgar pleasantries, which had full scope and licence on the first of April. On the third of that month, however, he craved a private audience of the monarch, and, after some little hesitation, was admitted.
James was in the midst of books and papers; and his manner, though exceedingly condescending, was somewhat embarrassed. "We would not put you off with a poor excuse, my lord," said the monarch, "for we could not tell what you were wanting; but you have chosen an ill time for a long confabulation, as we were writing a disquisition for our poor people of Scotland, and perhaps for the good folks of England too, upon the nature and property of witches and warlocks, and how to discriminate them justly."
"I crave your gracious pardon for my intrusion, sire," replied Gowrie, "and can well wait your majesty's pleasure. The matter is one entirely personal to myself, and therefore should not for a moment be allowed to interfere with your more important avocations. I will, therefore, by your majesty's leave, retire, and wait upon you at some future period when you have more leisure."
"No, no--stay!" said the king. "Let's hear what it's about. We shall always find great pleasure in doing what we can to show our favour to you, Earl of Gowrie. Speak, man, speak. What are ye seeking?"
"Merely your gracious leave and permission, sire, to wed a lady to whom I am much attached."
There was a small spot on James's forehead just above the eyebrows, which the monarch was accustomed to contract when eager and attentive, and that spot now grew very red.
"What, with the Lady Arabella Stuart?" he said. "So runs the rumour. We have heard of it. But you are cousins, my Lord of Gowrie; and we like not cousins marrying."
"There would be a thousand other objections to such a union, please your majesty," Gowrie replied, "all of which I see and appreciate fully----"
"Then what the de'il makes ye seek it?" asked James, abruptly, and evidently in a very angry mood.
"Such a thing never entered into my contemplation, sire," answered the earl, "nor did I ever hear that rumour had done me such a needless honour till this moment. I am in no way ambitious, sire. I neither seek to augment my fortune, raise my family, nor increase my influence. That lady's hand may well be bestowed upon some sovereign prince, but not upon the Earl of Gowrie."
"Ha, my lord, you speak well," said the king; "but some trick has been put upon us. We have not long since been told that our good sister and cousin, the Queen of England, had offered you the lady's hand when you were at her court of London."
"Doubtless, sire," replied Gowrie, "gossip and jealousy, together, have connected many a tale with my short residence there, equally false with this. The queen never mentioned the Lady Arabella's name to me; and, as she happened to be absent from the court, I never even saw her. Had such a thing been proposed, I must at once have declined, without even troubling your majesty upon the subject, inasmuch as I am attached to another lady, and contracted to her by promises which I neither can, nor desire to break."
James had listened attentively while the earl proceeded, and it was evident that he felt much satisfaction at what he heard; but he spoke no more of the Lady Arabella.
"Promises," he said, when Gowrie paused, "promises before witnesses?"
"Before one witness at least, your majesty," replied Gowrie.
"That is not a congregation," said the king. "By word of mouth or by writing?"
"By both, sire," answered Gowrie, decidedly. "I am bound to her in every way that man can bind himself."
"That is serious, my lord," said James. "You would have acted more wisely and more dutifully too, if, before undertaking such things, you had consulted us--not to say asked our consent as pater patriae. It is serious, good earl, I say; but we'll find a means to liberate you."
"But, sire, I do not desire to be liberated," replied Gowrie, with a smile. "I desire to be faster bound than ever, both to the lady and your majesty, by your graciously consenting to our speedy union."
"That's a joke, man, but not a good one--" said the king, laughing grimly; "considering all things, it's not a good one. Now you are all obedience, you see, and humbly asking my consent, which I dare to say you would do without, if it were refused."
Gowrie felt some embarrassment, for he could not bring himself to say he would not, and yet he did not like openly to set the king's authority at defiance. James, however, relieved him by saying, "But who's the lady, man? Let's hear all about her."
"I met with her in Italy, sire," replied Gowrie. "She was then living, I may say, in poverty, with her grandfather, the Count Manucci."
"Ha, ha! now we have it," cried James, laughing loud. "I know all about the story now. The daughter, or the reputed daughter of black Morton."
"His real and lawful daughter, sire," replied Gowrie, "as these papers will show your majesty. The originals are in the lady's keeping; but the names of the witnesses put the matter of her birth beyond all dispute."
"Ah," said James, taking the papers in his hand, and casting his eyes slowly over them, "it's good and honest to be lawfully born; but that is all she'll get by these rags of papers, for the estates of old Morton were all confiscate to the use of the crown, and were granted long since, with the advice of our council, to better deserving people than himself."
"I fear it is as your majesty says," replied the earl, calmly, "for I have looked over the papers well, and do not believe that, even this small act of settlement upon the lands of Whiteburn can be now maintained."
"Ha, say ye so, man?" cried the king. "You're a lawyer too, it would seem, and in this case a good one. I can tell you that the parchment on which this is drawn is not worth an old bull's hide. However, she ought to have a goodly tocher, for Morton had been scraping money together all his life, and as nobody could ever find where he put it, there's no doubt it was carried off by this lassie's grandfather and her mother."
"I can assure your majesty that you are in error there," said Gowrie. "Count Manucci lived in absolute poverty from the time he quitted Scotland, having been expelled from Florence, as your majesty probably knows, on account of his religious opinions. He received a small pension from the Earl of Angus up to the day of his death, which the earl would certainly not have paid if the count had obtained possession of all his uncle's wealth."
"That looks like truth," cried James. "I should not wonder if Angus had got the money himself."[[3]]
"Of that I know nought, sire," answered Gowrie; "but I can assure your majesty that the only wealth this dear girl brings with her to me is herself, and three thousand ducats which her grandfather had saved."
"Sorry to hear it," said the king. "We could have wished you a wealthier bride, my lord;" and there he stopped.
Gowrie remained also silent, anxious to hear what the king's consideration of the subject would lead him to, and at all events to get some definite answer upon which he might act. He thought that the next question might be, where he had left Julia, but he was prepared with an answer even for that, although he much wished to avoid being compelled to give it. James, however, notwithstanding his despotic principles and his anxiety to establish a complete absolutism in church and state, was constitutionally timid with those of whose resistance he had had any experience; and he did not like to drive the earl to refuse an answer. He therefore merely said that which precluded him afterwards from acting upon the information he had really obtained, giving the earl greatly the advantage.
"And so the lady is in Italy?" he observed, after a somewhat lengthened pause.
"No, sire, she is not," answered Gowrie. "Her present abode I have engaged to keep secret, till such time as I may be permitted to present her to your majesty as my wife. Immediately that such is the case, and that we can be married, I will go to seek her, with your majesty's leave."
"As far as the court of London, I suppose?" said James, somewhat bitterly.
"No, sir, not above one quarter as far," replied the earl. "I should have been very sorry to have given any foreign prince a hold upon me, even through my affections."
James remained silent, and seemed to hesitate, for he played with the points of his doublet, and shuffled about the papers on the table.
"Well, my lord," he said at length, "the question is one of some difficulty. We must consider of the subject fully. All those Douglasses, even to the second degree, are banished men--exiled from the land; and it cannot be decided just in a moment whether we shall open the door to any of them. Besides, it might make strife and contention. Here, you see, is a sort of claim set up to the lands of Whiteburn, long since bestowed upon our faithful servant, Andrew Stuart."
"I will give an undertaking, sire, under my hand, that those claims shall never be pursued," said Gowrie, "under the penalty of forfeiting five times their value."
This wasn't exactly the end, however, at which James wanted to arrive; and, affecting a little impatience, he exclaimed, "There, then, man, you've had your answer. We will give the matter our consideration, and after due deliberation had, we will say yea or nay, as may seem fitting. There, now, gang your ways, my lord. We have other things in hand just now."
Thus unceremoniously dismissed, Gowrie retired from the king's presence with no slight feelings of impatience and disgust. Delay was evidently the object, but to what end this delay could serve, seemed difficult to divine; and during the next ten days he was frequently tempted to recall the subject to the king's mind, with as urgent application as that of Buckingham for "the earldom of Hereford and the moveables." He refrained, however, anxious not to injure his own cause; and still the king abstained from giving any direct answer, although, with a varying favour, he treated him one day with somewhat too familiar kindness, and the next with cold indifference.
This playing with his expectations wore his mind and depressed his spirits; and his long absence from her he loved kept him in a state of irritable impatience, for he had fondly hoped to bear to Julia the tiding that the king's consent was given.
He found consolation, indeed, in the frequent society of his sister Beatrice, who, wise beyond her years, yet gay and sportive as a child, at once counselled him aright and cheered him on his way. Seeming never to fear anything, she was nevertheless watchful and alive to all that passed at the court, which could in any degree affect her brother; and much information did both she and Gowrie gain from her gay lover, Sir John Hume.
Day passed by on day, however; and the king seemed to have totally forgotten the subject of the earl's application, till at length, in speaking with his sister, Gowrie said, "I can bear it no longer, Beatrice. I will away to Perth."
"If you get to Perth," answered Beatrice, "you will not be long away from Trochrie, Gowrie."
"Perhaps not," answered the earl; "but I will write to the king first, Beatrice. If he refuses his consent, I will do as best I may, though it may be dangerous, if the law does really make her a ward of the crown; but I doubt the fact where there are no lands to hold. If he consents, it is all well; but I must and will have some answer."
"Be not rash, Gowrie--be not rash," said his sister; "a day very often brings forth important things."
"I am for Perth to-morrow," replied her brother, in a determined tone; "but I will soon return, and perhaps my absence may recall me to the king's mind more than my presence."
Without taking any leave of the court, Gowrie set out on the following morning, and rode with all speed to Perth, where he remained two days arranging his household, and seeing that everything was prepared for resuming his residence in his native city. He was then absent for one whole day and a great part of the next; and the reader need not be told where he spent his time.
On his return he was informed that the prisoner, David Drummond, desired to see him at the town jail; but although the message was brought by no less a person than Bailie Roy, the junior magistrate of the town, the earl refused to visit the prisoner.
"Tell him, good Master Roy," he said, "had he not been one of my own servants, I would have come to see him at his request; but such being the case, I will deal with him no way privately before his trial."
When the worthy bailie departed, Gowrie expected to hear no more of the matter; but he was surprised, about half an hour after, as he was walking somewhat sadly in his garden, to see Bailie Roy posting up the path towards him.
"I most humbly beg your lordship's pardon," said the good magistrate, approaching; "but I am forced to intrude upon your private recreation by another message from that dour divot, David Drummond. He bade me tell your lordship that if you would not see him he would apply to the king, and might tell him some things that he would be glad to hear."
"Then, by all means, let him pleasure his majesty," said Gowrie. "I would not for the world deprive him of any valuable or agreeable information. In short, Master Roy, I will not see him; and he should know me well enough to be sure that when once I have said so I will not alter."
Notwithstanding this determined answer, the prisoner's message left the earl thoughtful and anxious. "The only thing he can tell," thought Gowrie, "is the retreat of my poor Julia. The king has sent no answer to my letter. I will wait till noon to-morrow, and then go to demand one myself--I do not think he would venture to attempt to take her from my protection by force; but we shall soon see, and, thank God, everything is prepared."
No letter came on the day following, and Gowrie set out for Edinburgh after the noon meal. He arrived too late to visit the court that day, indeed; and was sitting down with all the evil anticipations of an impatient spirit under prolonged anxiety, when the clouds were suddenly dispelled, and a brief gleam of sunshine broke through the canopy of storm that was fast spreading over him.