The courtier gave utterance to a name, known to most of the company; and which ten years before had been oftener pronounced in connexion with that of England’s queen. Only in whispers, it is true, and less discreditable to Henry than Henrietta.
The announcement produced an effect upon the auditory of a very peculiar character. It was certainly not so damaging to him, who was the subject of their criticisms: for in the minds of many there present, the man of bonnes fortunes was a character to be envied rather than despised; and the favourite page—whose mysterious disappearance from court, some ten years before, had given rise to a “royal scandal”—could not be otherwise than interesting.
The knowledge that Henry Holtspur, the black horseman—the mysterious—the unknown—was identical with Henry —, once a queen’s page—the recipient of royal smiles—perhaps, in that assemblage gained him more friends than enemies. Such as were still disposed to be hostile to him, could no longer avail themselves of that mode of reviling—still so customary among the “elite”—by calling him an “adventurer.” This had he been in the true sense of the term—an adventurer, but one to be envied by his enemies.
Even the heart of the dashing Dorothy, became suddenly softened towards him, on hearing the new revelation made by her cousin Wayland. That expression of sympathy for him—supposed by her auditory to have been ironical—was a more sincere sentiment, than usually fell from her lips.
The scandal was not discussed among Sir Frederick’s guests—at least not in open assembly. The whisperings of side groups may have referred to it; but it was too old to be interesting—even to the most industrious dealers in crim. con. gossip.
The general conversation became changed to a theme more appropriate to the occasion; though a small congenial group, who had gathered around the young Wayland, were treated to some further details—relating to the matrimonial affairs of the patriot conspirator.
Of these not much knew the courtier; nor indeed any one else upon the ground. He could only inform his auditory—what some of them already knew: that Henry — had been secretly married to one of the noble ladies of Queen Henrietta’s court—that the marriage ceremony, had been followed by an affair, in which the Queen herself had taken an unusual interest—in short, by a separation between man and wife—by the loss of the greater part of the young husband’s fortune—and finally by his disappearance, both from the court and the country. Among other adventurous spirits of the time, he had emigrated to the colonies of Virginia.
To do Master Wayland justice, he evinced no particular hostility towards the man, whose history he was narrating; though, on the other hand, he said nothing in his defence. It was not his province to make known the nature of that conjugal quarrel; or say who was in fault. In truth, the stripling but ill understood it. He did not know that royal jealousy had been the cause of that sudden separation between Henry — and his bride-wife; and that it was an act of royal revenge, that had transformed the courtier into a colonist.
The subject, after a time, losing interest, was permitted to drop—the conversation changing to other themes.
There was one whose thoughts could not be distracted from it. Need I say it was Marion Wade?