"Think of yourself--think of yourself, good friend," said Markham; "they will not keep the Countess long when you are gone. As for your lady-wife, be sure, that to her safety I will sacrifice my own. She once risked hers for me; and all the life I have is hers, to do with me as she likes. I will ensure that, let them guard her how they will, she shall be safely put on board a ship bound for some foreign country. I am not new to stratagems; and, alas!--though for some years now they have had meaner things to do with than monarchs' crowns, as formerly,--in seeking a bare subsistence as a banished man, I have been in constant practice, I assure you. Sir Harry West will help me, too; and I think my good Lord Hertford will furnish us with means."
"That he will," replied Seymour, "to the utmost of his power. But, I am not without some wealth myself, Markham; and, as you may be called upon to act more suddenly than you expect, you had better take a part of what I have here. There are two hundred nobles in this bag. Take it, take it. I have more than I shall need; and now away, for I fear every minute, lest Ida should seek you at your lodgings, and find you absent."
Without further delay, Sir Griffin Markham left the prisoner and hurried on towards his obscure lodging in the lanes not far off. But ere we relate what occurred by the way, we must turn once more to the courtly scenes of the palace, and, as is our custom occasionally, retrograde for a few hours in point of time.
[CHAPTER XXXIII.]
"Now shall you see Sir Thomas Overbury, with pink roses in his shoes, a rapier fit for a Castilian Don, mustachios curling to the moon, and a beard of the most approved cut!" exclaimed Bradshaw, addressing Graham. "The barber has been labouring upon him for an hour and a half this morning. Sixteen new pairs of Spanish leather gloves, with pumps of Cordova, and a new velvet jerkin, reached his lodging last night. His ruff has broken the heart of the laundress; and his hose--Heaven help us! saw ever man the like of his hose? One would suppose his nether man a jewel of rare price, to be thrust into such an elaborate casket. I will warrant you, he will trip by upon the tips of his toes, with a 'Give you good den, dear Master Bradshaw! Good den, Master Graham!--the King favours you both--you are likely young men;'" and he mimicked the affected tone of some of the superfine courtiers of the day.
"But what is the cause of all this?" asked Graham, who took him literally. "What has happened to him?"
"Oh! sir; he is in the high way to fortune," answered Bradshaw. "As a sconce in a corner of a room reflects suddenly the light of a candle which the housemaid brings in her hand, and another sconce over the chimney catches a gleam from it, so shines the King's favour upon Rochester, and is reflected from Rochester to Overbury; and you may argue from the premises, that they are both to be lighted up anon, as far as the oil and wick will go; though, to say sooth, the reel and cruse are both somewhat low in the royal closet. The people must be pinched, sir; the people must be pinched. What is the nation but a great gold sponge, to yield its juices under the King's pressure? However, my mother whips me, and I whip my top; Rochester smiles upon Overbury, and the King smiles upon Rochester. Did you not see how the favourite took his favourite by the ear just now, led him to the royal door, then thrust him in, so that he well nigh fell at the King's feet, to thank him for his bounties before he knew what they were?"
"I thought Overbury was somewhat out of favour," replied Graham; "there was a report of a quarrel between him and Rochester about the Lady Essex; and don't you remember, when we were at Greenwich, people said, the King suspected him of giving poor Lady Arabella a hint to run away?"
"Bless your ignorance, Graham!" cried Bradshaw; "he is a carpenter--a joiner, who saws things in two, and glues them together again with a dexterity quite marvellous. No sooner is a hole made than it is patched up again; and, for darning on new favours to old ones, he is better than any tailor in the land. Have you not seen how Rochester hangs upon him, and calls him Tom? and, moreover, the King gave his good lordship five thousand pounds upon a hint from Overbury. No, no; you will see him a great man soon; but whether it will be secretary, or lord keeper, or lord mayor, who can tell?"
While such conversation was going on in the ante-room, the object of it was in the king's closet with James, alone. He had been suddenly called from his own chamber by Rochester, and hurried, without information of what was the matter in hand, into the presence of the King. Rochester then immediately closed the door, and left him there, having previously brought the monarch to the exact pitch he desired.