"Oh! I am weary of balancing things impossible. The Prince cannot marry like a common man."
"Then he should only make love to such women as are fit to marry with him. I have said often what I thought right in this affair; I have offered to help it with my gold as far as I can—that is all about it, Matilda. I say no more."
"It is enough," answered Lady Jevery. "Matilda cannot wish to put in danger your liberty or life."
"My happiness is of less consequence, aunt."
"Certainly it is;" and there was such an air of finality in Lady Jevery's voice that Matilda rose and went to her own apartments to continue her complaints. This she did with passionate feeling in a letter to Prince Rupert, in which she expressed without stint her hatred of Lord Neville and her desire for his punishment. Rupert was well inclined to humour her wish. He had seen the young Commonwealth messenger, and his handsome person and patrician manner had given him a moment's envious look back to the days when he also had been young and hopeful, and full of faith in his own great future. The slight hauteur of Neville, his punctilious care for Cromwell's instructions, his whole bearing of victory, as against his own listless attitude of "failure," set his mind in a mood either to ignore the young man, or else by the simplest word or incident to change from indifference to dislike.
Matilda's letter furnished the impetus to dislike. He said to himself, "Neville showed more insolence and self-approval in the presence of his Eminence than I, after all my wars and adventures, would have presumed on, under any circumstances. He wants a lesson, and it will please Matilda if I give him it; and God knows there is so little I can do to pleasure her!" At this point in his reflections, he called his equerry and bid him "find out the lodgings of Lord Neville, and watch him by day and night;" adding, "Have my Barbary horse saddled, and when this Englishman leaves his lodging, bring me instant word of the course he takes."
The next morning he spent with Matilda. She was in tears and despair, and Rupert could do nothing but weep and despair with her. He indeed renewed with passionate affection his promise to marry her as soon as this was possible, but the possibility did not appear at hand to either of them. Rupert certainly could have defied every family and caste tradition, and made the girl so long faithful to him at once his wife; but how were they to live as became his rank? For in spite of popular suppositions to the contrary, he was in reality a poor man, and he could not become a pensioner on Sir Thomas Jevery, even if Sir Thomas had been able to give him an income at all in unison with Rupert's ideas of the splendid life due to his position and achievements.
But he had not long to wait for an opportunity to meet Neville. While he was playing billiards the following afternoon with the Duke of Yorke, his equerry arrived at the Palais Royale with his horse. Neville had taken the northern road out of the city, and it was presumably the homeward road. Rupert followed quickly, but Neville was a swift, steady rider, and he was not overtaken till twenty miles had been covered, and the daylight was nearly lost in the radiance of the full moon. Rupert put spurs to his horse, passed Neville at a swift gallop, then suddenly wheeling, came at a rush towards him, catching his bridle as they met.
"Alight," he said peremptorily.
Neville shook his bridle free, and asked,