"It most fortunately happens," said Sir George Barkley, "that a ship is on the point of sailing, and lies in the river here, under Dutch colours. Your grace will, of course, go back in her?"
"No, sir," replied the Duke—"I shall go as I came, in an open boat. But you have no time to lose, for I know that suspicion is attached to this spot. In the first place, however, tell me, what you have here. What new outrage is this that I have just seen attempted? If I had not entered at the very moment, cold and cowardly bloodshed would have taken place five minutes ago."
The Duke's eyes were fixed upon Wilton as he spoke; and that gentleman, now seeing and understanding whom he had to deal with, put back the pistol into his belt, and advanced, saying,—
"My lord, it is probable I owe my life to your inter-position; and to you the circumstances in which I am placed will be explained in a moment. In your honour and integrity, I have confidence; but the murderous purpose which you have just disappointed shows how well I was justified in doubting the intentions of the men by whom I was but now surrounded."
"Had you given them no offence, sir?" demanded the Duke of Berwick. "I can scarcely suppose that so dark and sanguinary an act would have been attempted had you not given some cause. I saw the pistol levelled over Sir George Barkley's shoulder, while he seemed speaking to you. That I considered a most unfair act, and stopped it. But you must surely have done something to provoke such deeds.—Good heavens! the Lady Helen Oswald!" he continued, as the elder lady advanced, with Laura clinging to her. "Madam, I fully thought you were at St. Germain.—Can you tell us anything of this strange affair?"
"But too much, my lord," replied the lady, speaking eagerly, "but too much for the honour of these men, who have thought fit to violate every principle of justice and humanity. This young lady beside me has been dragged from her father's house by the orders of some of these gentlemen here present, beyond all doubt. This young gentleman has traced her hither, legally authorized to carry her back to her father; and although he plighted his honour, and I pledged my word for him, that he would do nothing and say nothing to compromise any of the persons here present, they not only refused to let him depart, but have, as you saw yourself, most treacherously attempted to take his life while they were affecting to parley with him."
"Madam," said the Duke of Berwick, in a sorrowful tone, "I am deeply grieved and pained by all that has occurred. I confess I never felt despondency till I discovered that persons, pretending to be my father's friends, have made his cause the pretext for committing crimes and acts like these. I have already heard this young lady's story. All London is ringing with it; and the Earl of Aylesbury gave me this morning, what is probably the real explanation of the whole business. We will not enter upon it now, for there is no time to be spared. I feel and know—and I say it with bitter regret—that the deeds which these gentlemen have done, and the schemes which they have formed, will do more to injure the cause of their legitimate sovereign than the loss of twenty pitched battles. Sir George Barkley, I beg you would make no reply. Provide for your safety, sir. Your long services and sufferings are sufficient to make some atonement; and I will take care to conceal from the ears of the King, as far as possible, how you have misused his authority. Sir John Fenwick and the rest of you gentlemen must act as you think fit in regard to remaining in England, or going to the Continent. But I am inclined to recommend to you the latter, as the safest expedient. You will leave me to deal with this gentleman and his friends; for I need not tell you that I shall suffer no farther injury or insult to be offered to them. As to the personage who actually fired the pistol, I have merely to tell him, that should I ever meet with him in circumstances where I have the power to act, I will undoubtedly punish him for his conduct this night."
The conspirators whispered for a moment amongst themselves; and at length Sir William Parkyns took a step forward, saying, "Are we to understand your grace that you will give us no assistance from the French forces under your command?"
"You are so to understand me," replied the Duke of Berwick, sternly: "I will not, sir, allude distinctly to the schemes that you have formed. But you are all well aware of them; and I tell you that I will give no aid, support, or countenance whatsoever, either to such schemes or to the men who have formed them. At the same time, let me say, that had there been—instead of such schemes—a general rising against the usurper—ay, or even a partial rising—nay, had I found twenty gentlemen in arms who needed my help in the straightforward, honest, upright intent of re-seating their sovereign on his lawful throne, I would not have hesitated for a moment to land the troops under my command, and to have made a last determined stand for honour and my father's rights. As it is, gentlemen, I have nothing farther to say, but take care of yourselves. I shall remain here for a couple of hours, and then return with all speed to France."
"But does not your grace run a great risk," said Sir George Barkley, "in remaining so long?"