sometimes lurk i in a gossip's bowl.
—a midsummer night's dream.
"by the mass, but the blackguard bears himself bravely! and you, my lord, have no cause to be ashamed of your substitute."
it was lord rochester who spoke. he, together with lord stowmaries and sir john ayloffe, was standing on the top of the steps beneath the ancient stone portcullis which surmounts the porch. they formed a compact little group, which gained distinction from the rest of the motley throng, by the sober cut of the english-made clothes, and by the drooping plumes of the hats—a fashion long since discarded in france.
michael kestyon with his bride on his arm had just come out of the church. she, wrapped in cloak and hood—for the spring day was chilly and the east wind keen—looked little more for the moment than a small bundle of humanity desirous above all of escaping observation.
but michael for all the world looked the picture of the soldier of fortune, defiant and conscious of danger, ready to walk straight into that yawning abyss, at the bottom of which lurks a mysterious death, yet disdainful to evade it, too proud to halt, too obstinate to turn back.
as he came out of the porch, a violent gust of wind caught the folds of his cloak, and lashed him in the face, whipping up the swiftly-coursing blood which the solemnity of the religious service, the drowsy influence of[181] faded roses had lulled into temporary somnolence. the glare of the young april sun dazzled him, after the sombre, grey tones of the majestic chancel; the pupils of his eyes contracted to a pin's point, making the eyes themselves seem pale in colour, and tawny as those of a wild beast sweeping the desert with great savage orbs. there was altogether for the moment in the man's expression a strange look of dreamy aloofness. his eyes wandered over the crowd but obviously they recognised no individual face.
no wonder that lord rochester—essentially a man himself and a despiser of the other sex—gazed with ungrudging admiration at this splendid blackguard, who bore the stamp of virility on every line of his massive frame, and who seemed to defy contempt and dare contumely to reach him. looking at michael now it seemed impossible to think that he could ever regret any action which he had set his mind to do. compunction is for the weak who is led astray, who fears gibes and dreads humiliation, but this man had donned an armour of pride and of ruthless ambition which neither sneers nor contempt could ever penetrate.
he might be a blackguard—he was one by every code of moral or religious civilisation, but in his most evil moments he was never paltry and never vile.
"i feel no longer any sorrow for the girl," continued lord rochester after awhile. "odd's fish! were i a woman i would not complain at the bridegroom. and withal she looked vastly pleasing as a bride, and methinks michael kestyon, too, is overmuch in luck's way. what say you, ayloffe? are you not grieved that you did not take the entire business on your own shoulders, rather than depute that good-looking young reprobate to earn a fortune and an exquisite bride to boot?"
[182]
sir john frowned. some thought, such as the one expressed by rochester, had mayhap crossed his own mind during the past three weeks—but this was not for other people to see. he, too, watched michael's tall retreating figure, as he led rose marie down the stone steps, giving it ungrudging admiration and also the tribute of secret envy, until a crowd of friends and servants closed in round the bridal pair and hid them both from view.
then sir john turned to his friends and said drily:
"my lord of rochester is ever ready for a joke. i desired this scheme to succeed, and obviously the worthy tailor yonder would never have mistaken me for a man who was seven years old eighteen years ago. but i'll confess, an it'll please you, my lord and also my lord of stowmaries, that i do deem michael kestyon a lucky dog. one hundred and twenty thousand pounds and such a bride! by gad, had i been able to put back the hand of time some twenty years—"
"the bride would have loathed you," retorted stowmaries with an unpleasant snarl. "she'll fall in love with michael and clear me of remorse."
"surely my lord of stowmaries is not troubled with any such unpleasantness?" said ayloffe imperturbably. "'tis too late now to give way to remorse. by to-morrow's dawn, my lord, you'll be as free as air to wed whom you please. that simpering tailor's daughter will not have a rag of reputation left to her name, and you can repudiate her whenever you feel so inclined."
"and that will be at once," replied stowmaries, who, of a truth, was not experiencing the slightest pricks of conscience. the thought of this mock wedding which he had actually witnessed to-day had been dwelling in his mind for close upon a month. he had envisaged it from[183] every point of view and had completely exonerated himself from blame in the matter. the image of his fair julia had quite succeeded in screening from his mental vision all thought of the unfortunate girl whom he was thus condemning to disgrace and to shame, and whilst he steadily looked on michael as a miserable blackguard he firmly believed that when once he had paid over the price of an innocent girl's betrayal he himself would remain absolutely free from blame.
"i have made all enquiries," now continued sir john drawing his two friends out of earshot of the crowd. "i understand that there are to be rare doings to-day in master the tailor's back shop—a banquet, dancing and i imagine a good deal of wine drinking and licentious entertainment. these french bourgeois have no knowledge of decency and michael kestyon, methinks, did not learn to be squeamish whilst herding with the scum of mercenary armies in flanders and brandenburg. at five o'clock however a coach is to take the bridal pair as far as st. denis—"
he paused a moment, then added with a cynical smile, almost cruel in its callousness:
"the first stage of their journey to havre."
lord rochester laughed loudly. he had all along only seen the humour of the adventure. a woman's reputation destroyed, a woman won by a trick, by gad! these were of every-day occurrence in the life of a fashionable gentleman. indeed he thought that both stowmaries and ayloffe were making far too much of the whole business, and though he, too, called michael kestyon a rogue, yet he admired him for his pluck and envied him for his good fortune.
in his heart of hearts he much regretted that on the[184] memorable night when the adventure was proposed, he had been too drunk to accept its terms or to enter the lists for it himself.
"nay then!" he said lustily, "we'll all call on the turtle doves at st. denis to-night, and whilst my lord of stowmaries pays up like a man for all that he gains by michael's roguery, sir john ayloffe and i will entertain the bride by hoodwinking her still further into the belief that she is of a truth countess of stowmaries forever and ever amen, as the archbishop told her this day."
"i should be glad to get to st. denis to-night," rejoined stowmaries. "i owe michael seventy thousand pounds, which according to promise i should pay him to-day. the draft for it on master vivish the goldsmith is in my pocket now. the sooner i am rid of it the more pleased will i be."
"then will i at once and see about a coach," said sir john. "we can make a start at about six o'clock, one hour after the dove hath flown out of the paternal cote."
"nay, old daniel pye will see about the coach," rejoined stowmaries. "he hath met a crony who speaks english and knows his way about paris better than we do. he'll get us what we want."
"daniel pye!" exclaimed sir john in astonishment. "what doth my kinswoman's faithful henchman in this depraved city?"
"mistress julia peyton desired him to do certain commissions for her here in paris. when she heard that i was making the journey she requested that i should allow her servant to travel in the company of my men, since he was unversed in foreign ways, and knew nothing of the french language."
sir john made no further comment, but he wondered[185] vaguely in his mind as to why the fair julia had sent old pye over to paris. the question of commissions was of course nonsense. daniel could no more choose a length of silk or even of grogram, than he could trim a lace coif or fashion a pinner.
"mayhap my fair coz is jealous," was sir john's mental comment and the conclusion to which he arrived with that convenient cynicism of his, with which he usually disposed of any problem wherein feminine motives or feminine actions played an important part. "she hath mayhap deputed that old sinner, daniel pye, to watch over young stowmaries and to make report in case the wiles of this wicked city make my lord forget his allegiance to herself."
thus content with his own explanation of the circumstance, sir john dismissed the old serving-man from his mind, but not without deciding to question pye closely as soon as he had an opportunity so to do.
most of the crowd had dispersed by now. the bridal pair with good m. and mme. legros were being escorted by a merry crowd of 'prentices, servants and friends as far as the worthy tailor's house in the rue de l'ancienne comédie. this cortège had already turned the angle of the street, and the noise of laughter and of songs sung to the accompaniment of flute and hautbois was gradually dying away in the distance.
the few laggards who remained behind were discussing the chief actors in the pageant which they had witnessed. mme. de montespan and her gaily chattering court were gossiping whilst waiting for their chaises.
"ah!" sighed madame provokingly, "are all these english milors as handsome as that? i vow our gallants of versailles have much to learn from them, if indeed they all look like milor of stowmaries."
[186]
and while the gallants there present protested in dismay an ill-concealed jealousy, madame's roving eyes had discovered the small group of englishmen close by, and amongst them had recognised lord rochester.
"ah, milor," she exclaimed, "i pray you approach. i did not know you were in paris! what brings you hither, i pray?"
lord rochester, obedient to the call, had already advanced, and was duly allowed to kiss those finger tips whereon royal lips were ever wont to linger. englishmen were in high favour with madame for the next half hour at least.
"why are you in paris?" she repeated.
"to catch a glimpse of the most beautiful woman in europe," replied my lord of rochester with bold gallantry.
"then you'll come see her in versailles," she replied, drinking in the full measure of his flattering speech, the obvious falseness of which would not have deceived a child.
"nay, now that i have seen her!" he retorted, "i must hie me home to england again."
"so soon! then why did you come? nay!" she added with mock severity, "do not repeat your pretty lie again. you could not imagine to see me in this old church to-day. i came out of curiosity, to see this strange, ill-assorted marriage. tell me what makes the rich earl of stowmaries wed a tailor's daughter?"
"he was not always rich, nor always earl of stowmaries. the ceremony was not a marriage. it was a confirmation."
"and you came to witness it?"
"and to take part in an adventure."
"i might have guessed. who is the lady?"
[187]
"the bride of half an hour ago."
"i do not understand," said mme. de montespan with a frown. "pray explain."
"i'll do even more than that, madame la marquise," retorted lord rochester as he stepped a little to one side and disclosed the person of my lord of stowmaries. "i will with your permission present to you my friend the earl of stowmaries and rivaulx, the only earl of stowmaries whom i or his majesty the king of england would ever acknowledge as such."
the marquise looked very bewildered, her great violet-hued eyes opened wide and wandered in puzzlement from the face of lord rochester to that of his friend.
"the only earl of stowmaries!" she exclaimed in astonishment. "i vow milor that you have vastly puzzled me. then who was that handsome young milor who just now swore to love the tailor's daughter, the while the hearts of two duchesses, and one other marquise besides myself were pining for his glance."
my lord of rochester, however, kept madame on the tenter-hooks of expectation, whilst he affected the elaborate presentation of his friend which the etiquette of the time demanded. he introduced my lord of stowmaries to madame la marquise de montespan, and performed a like service for sir john ayloffe. then only did he partly satisfy madame's curiosity.
"the young reprobate," he said airily, "whom the most beautiful marquise in christendom has honoured with a glance of her myosotis eyes is—well! just a young reprobate, whom my lord of stowmaries here is paying handsomely to take an unwelcome bride from off his shoulders. my lord of stowmaries was seven years old when he wedded the tailor's daughter—now he has other matri[188]monial views—also a handsome cousin who was not averse to stepping into his shoes for this occasion which we have all witnessed to-day. he'll be well paid—neither bride nor bridegroom will have much to complain of—the bridegroom was a wastrel ere my lord of stowmaries proposed this adventure—and the bride is only a tailor's daughter. she will have a handsome husband, if michael kestyon chooses to acknowledge her—if not there is always the nunnery handy for those saintly women like herself who have made a temporary if not wholly voluntary diversion from the strict paths of decorum and virtue. et puis voila!"
mme. de montespan had listened attentively to this tale so cynically told; her friends, too, had closed in round her. every one was vastly interested and i assure you not the least in the world shocked. the court of le roi soleil abounded in such adventures, the convents of france were filled with the grief-stricken victims of the dissolute idlers of the day. lord rochester's story evoked nothing but amusement, and lord stowmaries at once became the centre of an admiring little crowd.
"but par ma foi!" commented madame with a sigh not altogether free from envy, "you english gentlemen are mighty blackguards!"
"we do our best, madame," rejoined rochester lightly, "to emulate our confrères in france."
"his majesty shall hear of your gallantries this very night. i pray you, lord rochester, do not leave us yet, nor you, my lord of stowmaries, nor you, sir ayloffe. his majesty would delight in your company. he so loves a bold adventure. and i am much mistaken he'll wish to see our handsome young reprobate, too—michael kestyon, did you say?" she added, prettily mispronouncing the[189] english vowels, "'tis an ugly name—but oh! he hath fine eyes and a manly bearing—and did he really do it for money?"
she called lord stowmaries to her side and closely questioned him, until she knew the entire discreditable story from beginning to end. her amusement in the recital of the tale, her appreciation of the adorable wickedness which had prompted the scheme for the cruel hoodwinking of another woman, did much to dissipate once and for all any lingering thoughts of remorse which stowmaries may still have been troubled with.
nothing would do but the imperious beauty's decree that after the call at st. denis—which was the call of honour since it meant the paying of money for services rendered—the three english gentlemen must straightway back to versailles, where they would be sure of a cordial welcome from his majesty and from every lady and gentleman at his court.
"and," urged madame, when at last she was installed in her chaise and was bidding farewell to her array of courtiers, "if you can bring that adorable young blackguard with you, you'll earn a gratified smile from the lips of king louis, and i'll promise not to do more than turn his head and make him forget that he was paid in order to wed the daughter of a tailor—brrr—the thought makes me shudder. the rogue is an apollo, milors, else a hercules—and has just that wicked look which makes us poor women tremble and which we adore."
and with this parting shot levelled at those who would have fought to the death for praise such as this, madame ordered her serving-men to bear her away.
rochester, satisfied that he had sown the seeds of the most amusing and most comprehensive piece of scandal[190] that had ever amused the jaded monarchs of two rival kingdoms, turned to his friends for final approval. ayloffe was distinctly appreciative of the new move, but stowmaries with that shiftiness peculiar to weak characters was not quite sure if it had been premature.
anyhow the draft for seventy thousand pounds on master vivish seemed to burn a hole in the pocket of his elegant surcoat. he was longing to be rid of all obligations in the matter, firmly convinced as he was when he had made michael richer by one hundred and twenty thousand pounds and himself poorer by that vast sum, this tiresome feeling of uncertainty would leave him, and he could once more enjoy life in its full—life with the prospect of adorable mistress julia as a constant companion by his side.
he and his friends walked back to the hostelry where they had put up for the night. there stowmaries called for daniel pye in order to give him instructions about getting a coach ready for the trip to st. denis.
but it seems that daniel had gone out earlier in the day and no one knew whither he had gone. but there was no difficulty about the coach. the amiable host of the uncomfortable little inn assured mm. les milors that one would be ready by half-past five of the clock and that the journey to st. denis could be accomplished in something less than three hours.
