“When I can tell you that from my own experience, you shall know,” said Lord Oldborough, replying in the same tone; “but, thanks to your discovery, there seems to be little chance, at present, of my being competent to answer that question. But to business—we are wasting life.”
Every word or action that did not tend to a political purpose appeared to Lord Oldborough to be a waste of life.
“Your ultimatum? Can you be one of us?”
“Impossible, my lord. Pardon me if I say, that the nearer the view your confidence permits me to take of the workings of your powerful mind, and of the pains and penalties of your exalted situation, the more clearly I feel that ambition is not for me, that my happiness lies in another line.”
“Enough—I have done—the subject is at rest between us for ever.” A cloud, followed instantaneously by a strong radiance of pleasure, passed across Lord Oldborough’s countenance, while he pronounced, as if speaking to himself, the words, “Singular obstinacy! Admirable consistency! And I too am consistent, my dear sir,” said he, sitting down at the table. “Now for business; but I am deprived of my right hand.” He rang, and desired his secretary, Mr. Temple, to be sent to him. Mr. Percy rose to take leave, but Lord Oldborough would not permit him to go. “I can have no secrets for you, Mr. Percy—stay and see the end of the Cassock.”
Mr. Temple came in; and Lord Oldborough, with that promptitude and decision by which he was characterised, dictated a letter to the king, laying before his majesty the whole intrigue, as discovered by the Tourville papers, adding a list of the members of the Cassock—concluding by begging his majesty’s permission to resign, unless the cabal, which had rendered his efforts for the good of the country and for his majesty’s service in some points abortive, should be dismissed from his majesty’s councils. In another letter to a private friend, who had access to the royal ear, Lord Oldborough named the persons, whom, if his majesty should do him the favour of consulting him, he should wish to recommend in the places of those who might be dismissed. His lordship farther remarked, that the marriage which had taken place between his niece and the eldest son of the Duke of Greenwich, and the late proofs of his grace’s friendship, dissipated all fears and resentment arising from his former connexion with the Cassock. Lord Oldborough therefore entreated his majesty to continue his grace in his ministry. All this was stated in the shortest and plainest terms.
“No rounded periods, no phrases, no fine writing, Mr. Temple, upon this occasion, if you please; it must be felt that these letters are straight from my mind, and that if they are not written by my own hand, it is because that hand is disabled. As soon as the gout will let me stir, I shall pay my duty to my sovereign in person. These arrangements will be completed, I trust, by the meeting of parliament. In the mean time I am better here than in London; the blow will be struck, and none will know by whom—not but what I am ready to avow it, if called upon. But—let the coffee-house politicians decide, and the country gentlemen prose upon it,” said Lord Oldborough, smiling—“some will say the ministry split on India affairs, some on Spanish, some on French affairs. How little they, any of them, know what passes or what governs behind the curtain! Let them talk—whilst I act.”
The joy of this discovery so raised Lord Oldborough’s spirits, and dilated his heart, that he threw himself open with a freedom and hilarity, and with a degree of humour unusual to him, and unknown except to the few in his most intimate confidence. The letters finished, Mr. Temple was immediately despatched with them to town.
“There,” said Lord Oldborough, as soon as Mr. Temple had left him, “there’s a secretary I can depend upon; and there is another obligation I owe to your family—to your son Alfred.”
Now this business of the Tourville papers was off his mind, Lord Oldborough, though not much accustomed to turn his attention to the lesser details of domestic life, spoke of every individual of the Percy family with whom he was acquainted; and, in particular, of Godfrey, to whom he was conscious that he had been unjust. Mr. Percy, to relieve him from this regret, talked of the pleasure his son had had in his friend Gascoigne’s late promotion to the lieutenant-colonelcy. Whilst Mr. Percy spoke, Lord Oldborough searched among a packet of letters for one which made honourable mention of Captain Percy, and put it into the hands of the happy father.