There were men who took a different view of the Duke’s purpose in permitting his mansion to be thus surrounded, and his demesne occupied by modern buildings which were incomplete, and ancient which were but half demolished. They alleged, that, engaged as he was in so many mysteries of love and of politics, and having the character of the most daring and dangerous intriguer of his time, his Grace found it convenient to surround himself with this ruinous arena, into which officers of justice could not penetrate without some difficulty and hazard; and which might afford, upon occasion, a safe and secret shelter for such tools as were fit for desperate enterprises, and a private and unobserved mode of access to those whom he might have any special reason for receiving in secret.
Leaving Peveril in the Tower, we must once more convey our readers to the Levee of the Duke, who, on the morning of Julian’s transference to that fortress, thus addressed his minister-in-chief, and principal attendant: “I have been so pleased with your conduct in this matter, Jerningham, that if Old Nick were to arise in our presence, and offer me his best imp as a familiar in thy room, I would hold it but a poor compliment.”
“A legion of imps,” said Jerningham, bowing, “could not have been more busy than I in your Grace’s service; but if your Grace will permit me to say so, your whole plan was well-nigh marred by your not returning home till last night, or rather this morning.”
“And why, I pray you, sage Master Jerningham,” said his Grace, “should I have returned home an instant sooner than my pleasure and convenience served?”
“Nay, my Lord Duke,” replied the attendant, “I know not; only, when you sent us word by Empson, in Chiffinch’s apartment, to command us to make sure of the girl at any rate, and at all risks, you said you would be here so soon as you could get freed of the King.”
“Freed of the King, you rascal! What sort of phrase is that?” demanded the Duke.
“It was Empson who used it, my lord, as coming from your Grace.”
“There is much very fit for my Grace to say, that misbecomes such mouths as Empson’s or yours to repeat,” answered the Duke haughtily, but instantly resumed his tone of familiarity, for his humour was as capricious as his pursuits. “But I know what thou wouldst have; first, your wisdom would know what became of me since thou hadst my commands at Chiffinch’s; and next, your valour would fain sound another flourish of trumpets on thine own most artificial retreat, leaving thy comrade in the hands of the Philistines.”
“May it please your Grace,” said Jerningham, “I did but retreat for the preservation of the baggage.”
“What! do you play at crambo with me?” said the Duke. “I would have you to know that the common parish fool should be whipt, were he to attempt to pass pun or quodlibet as a genuine jest, even amongst ticket-porters and hackney chairmen.”