Ann told Reginald this one day, and the young man looked grave.
"I am not surprised," he answered. "Matters are getting serious; the king's exchequer is somewhat empty and difficult to refill, and those about him are not scrupulous as to the ways and means by which it may be replenished. You know that all the principal regicides, eighty or ninety odd, some of the best men, have already been dragged to the scaffold, and in most cases their property has been confiscated. But this does not suffice; there are hundreds of others, gentlemen and commoners, ministers, all sorts and conditions of men, who, if they did not vote for the king's death, did not vote against it. Many have been arrested and thrown into prison; some have fled to Geneva, where they are safe; others are in hiding; but some, like my father, have remained at home, fully persuaded that no harm is likely to befall them, seeing they have given their adhesion to Charles II. But I am much afraid this will not be enough. Courtiers are turning a cold shoulder to them, and I find myself somewhat put on one side.
"I should not be surprised at any moment if my father were called to account and in a certain measure made to refund, for the old Royalists are clamouring to be restored to their estates and to be rewarded for their fidelity. Charles tries to satisfy them in many cases, but not in all; he cannot, and there is much discontent. An empty exchequer and followers who have despoiled themselves for their masters are difficult to deal with. It is not a pleasant prospect, and both he and his ministers seem to think the only way of meeting it is by taking back what Cromwell gave, if it can be proved that the recipients were accessories to Charles's death."
"And our father commanded a regiment of horse at Whitehall on the very day of the king's execution," said Ann, looking up.
"I know it," answered Reginald. "It was his duty; he was under orders. If this knowledge comes to the king's ears, then his command, probably his estates, will be taken from him and he will be brought to trial."
"That is what troubles him, then," said Ann.
"It is enough to trouble any man," answered Reginald. "You see, he is trying to serve two masters, which never answers, in this world or the next."
"What would you have him do?" asked Ann, aghast.
"Do! There is nothing to do," said Reginald, "until the bomb bursts; then, if there is still time and he can escape out of England, his life may be spared, but his estates will be forfeited, and Newbolt Manor will pass into other hands. A case of pure bartering," he added. "His majesty will rob Paul to pay Peter; it has ever been the same."
"Can nothing be done?" asked Ann. "I do not care for the loss of Newbolt Manor, but I care for our father and our mother; it will break their hearts."