Chapter V: Book I: The Winning of a Husband (4)

In another moment my messenger and guide came out to the anteroom, threw open the door, and motioned me to proceed. Summoning my courage, I stepped through the doorway. The door was closed behind me immediately, and I found myself in a vast vaulted room, a library apparently. On a high chair at the head of a large table sat the King. I knew him at once. To his left there was a man in the robes of a Bishop of the Church, a man of kindly, benignant, gentle, merciful face, so different in his aspect from the man who sat on the other side of the King that his good heart, which would have been evident anywhere, was the more marked by contrast. The other man wore the dress of a cavalier, but he had thrown over it the robe of a justice. His face was handsome but marred by the most brutal, cruel, and licentious expression. His eyes stared at me and his look was an insult. On the hither side of the table an elderly but gallant soldier of foreign aspect in the rich uniform of a general officer waited. Next to the Bishop's his was the pleasantest countenance that I fronted. Pride, haughtiness, cruelty, covetousness were evidenced in the King's face, but by the side of the man next to him, he almost looked like an angel of light.

I surveyed the four with lightning-like rapidity. I was fighting for life, my father's life, Sir Hugh Richmond's life, and I almost felt in that baleful royal presence for my own honour as well, and I must take stock of my enemies or friends.

"The King, madam!" cried the soldier, inclining his head toward His Majesty as I advanced.

I sank to my knees instantly and stretched out my hands.

"Your Majesty," I pleaded, "mercy!"

"Rise, madam," said the King. "Nay, stand you there," he added quickly as I rose and made a sudden movement toward him, "by the Earl of Feversham."

I glanced rapidly at the soldier. So this was Louis de Duras, the French soldier of fortune, the favourite of the King, the commander of his armies, the hero of Sedgemoor. This was the commander who had dashed all of Monmouth's hopes. It was the Bishop who spoke.

"Your Majesty, the young woman looks weary. Will not your grace permit her the privilege of a chair?"

"Ay," said the King indifferently, "she may be seated, if she will."

"I would make the rebel stand," growled the man upon the other side under his breath while the Earl of Feversham courteously handed me a chair.

"I' faith you have made many of them stand upon nothing, Jeffreys," laughed the King uproariously.

So that was Jeffreys, he of the Bloody Assize, the greatest disgrace to justice that ever had been seen in all England. He had hanged and burned and beaten and scourged and robbed and murdered without let or hindrance after Sedgemoor, and writ his name in such gory letters upon the pages of history that not all the waters of all the oceans could ever wash him clean, or wash out his damnable record. I looked upon him and I hated him.

The fierce soldier, the unjust judge, the mean king--into what den of wild animals had I thrust myself? Well, I had played gallantly heretofore, and I would bear myself in the same way to the end.

"I thank Your Majesty," I said, declining the proffered seat. "I come as a suppliant from my father."

"From your father?" inquired the King in great wonderment.

He looked at Jeffreys and laughed.

"You must have come from hell then," roared the Justice, emboldened by the King's look, "for the vile traitor's head hath rolled from the block four or five days since."

"Shame!" murmured the Bishop, not so low but that all could hear.

I despised Jeffreys; I loathed him; I answered him back not as a woman, I am glad to say, but as a man.

"That's a lie!" I cried impetuously. "My father lives."

"The falsehood can easily be made truth then, woman!" cried the King, leaning forward with an angry frown.

"At Your Majesty's pleasure," said I boldly. "God hath put the lives of your poor subjects into your hand, but it is to stay that royal hand that I am come."

"What mean you?"

"Give me leave, Your Majesty," interposed Jeffreys. "A royal warrant for the execution of the Earl of Clanranald was made out; I wrote it myself. It was sent to Sir Alexander Forfair, my brother of Scotland. Hath he dared to delay its execution, hussy?"

He rose as he spoke, leaned over the table and shook his fist in my face. I cannot describe the insolence, the overbearing brutality of his manner. I looked him straight in the face, and answered nothing.

"Well, madam?" cried the King.

"Your Majesty," I answered, "I will hold no converse with this man. My errand is with yourself."

"Give her to me, Your Majesty," roared Jeffreys. "I will have her stripped and whip her naked at the cart's tail like Anne Lisle and the rest of the cursed brood of rebels."

"Sire," interposed the Bishop quickly, "Your Majesty will not do this thing. The meanest subject hath the right to appeal to the Crown, and here is a defenceless woman who begs only for her father's life."

"Peace, Jeffreys!" said the King. "As for you, my lord of Bath and Wells"--so this was good Bishop Ken of whom I had heard!--"your advice for once is good. I will hear the lady. Madam, your story."

"I thank Your Majesty," I said quickly. "Sir Hugh Richmond was set on by a highwayman near Edinburgh, shot, left senseless in the road, despoiled of the royal warrant, which was burned. Therefore, there hath as yet been no execution, fortunately for my plea."

"The matter then is but postponed," said the King indifferently.

"For the present, yes, Your Majesty, but meanwhile if Your Majesty will permit me"--I took from a little bag which hung at my waist a parcel of papers--"here is an appeal for clemency. 'Tis signed by the Lord Chief Justice and the Justices of your High Court. 'Tis countersigned by many great and loyal gentlemen to Your Majesty. 'Tis attested by depositions to show my father's unwillingness to follow the Duke of Monmouth, his efforts at restraint. Upon it I base an appeal for mercy."

The King looked hard upon me, frowning as before.

"Fetch hither the paper, Feversham," he said at last.

When it was placed in his hands--it was a brief paper for all its weighty import--he glanced at it curiously and balanced it a moment, his eye turning to Jeffreys and then to Ken. What was passing through his mind? I divined instantly. He would give it to one or the other of these men for examination, and as he gave it, he would determine the fate of us all, for I do believe no human soul ever looked to Jeffreys for mercy and received it.

My hand caught my throat. I bent forward, such pleading in my looks as for the moment seemed to move even the hard heart of the King. To my relief, he turned to the left and handed the note to the Bishop.

"Do you examine this, my lord," he said, "with all speed, and let me have your best opinion of its contents."

Ken instantly opened the paper.

"Now," said the King, turning his face toward me, "while my lord of Bath and Wells reads your humble petition for mercy, I would fain question you further, madam."

"I have naught to conceal from Your Majesty," replied I.

"You say that Sir Hugh Richmond was stopped and robbed in the highway?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Was he seriously wounded?"

"No, Your Majesty."

"Why hath he not returned at once then to report the failure of his errand?"

I hesitated.

"Sire," said I at last, "rumour hath it that he is under close arrest."

"Arrest!"

"It is suspected that he connived with the highwayman."

"That's treason!" roared Jeffreys.

"But, Your Majesty...." I faltered, and then I stopped.

How could I say that it was not true, for it was. The King looked puzzled.

"Hath search been made for this highwayman?"

"I suppose so," was my answer.

"Your Majesty," interposed Feversham, "I know General Ramesay well. He would leave no stone unturned to apprehend the villain who affected this bold despoilment."

"Evidently," said the King to me, "it was some one interested in the welfare of your house who thus robbed my messenger on the highway. Do you know his name?"

What I did from one point of view was wild, foolish, reckless, and yet I believe that my action was the result of one of those sudden inspirations which sometimes govern people to their weal or woe in critical moments.

"Your Majesty," said I boldly, "I myself despoiled your messenger."

"Good God!" exclaimed the King, "you, a woman, to overmaster a tried soldier like Sir Hugh Richmond?"

"It was not as a woman that I did it."

"What mean you?"

"In man's attire I won his friendship, Sire, and then unsuspecting shot him. My bullet fortunately, however, glanced across his forehead and merely stunned him. His bullet tore its way through my shoulder."

"Here is no collusion between ye then," said the King.

"Nay, Your Majesty. But afterward when I had burned the warrant, Sir Hugh overtook me, discovered me to be a woman, had compassion on me, failed to report my assault, did not deliver me to the authorities, and now languishes in the Tolbooth in my place."

"That accounts for your short hair," said the King irrelevantly. "I had wondered why you came thus out of the mode. You cut it off to pass for boy?"

"Your Majesty's penetration does you high honour," said I, passing him the sweet compliment deftly.

"I should like to see thee as lad," laughed the King. "What think ye, Jeffreys?"

"Saving your grace," cried the Justice, "I think her an impudent, traitorous wench who deserveth nothing whatever from Your Majesty's hands but a place on the block beside her father and her paramour."

"You coward!" I cried. "You low, base, ineffable cur!"

"Did ye not pay a price to Sir Hugh for his complacence, answer me that, you little baggage?" he roared.

"Your Majesty," cried I, flaming, "I appeal to you as the first gentleman of your kingdom to protect me from the insults of this man. Naught, I declare upon my word of honour as my father's daughter, hath passed between Sir Hugh Richmond and myself that the whole world might not know."

"You go too far, Jeffreys," said the King, turning upon the Chief Justice. "This passeth even my easy permission."

"I shall be pleased, madam, with the King's gracious permission," said Feversham with the chivalric gallantry of his race and ancestry, "to make your cause my own."

He touched his sword and looked threateningly at Jeffreys. There was kindly blood in this courteous soldier. I thanked him by a grateful look. It was the good Bishop who interposed in the angry scene.

"Your Majesty," he said, "I have read here the papers. 'Tis as the maiden declares. The petition is signed by the most noble and most loyal gentlemen of Scotland. The affidavits indicate the Earl of Clanranald's reluctance, his endeavour to restrain his fellow-conspirators. Here is surely a case for clemency."

"Did you ever see a case that was not for clemency?" roared Jeffreys.

"Few indeed, sir," said the Bishop, confronting him without blenching.

The King took the papers and stood looking at me thoughtfully. He was hesitating. With a prayer I played my last card.

"Your Majesty," I said, "out of the wreck of my father's fortune I have here some five thousand pounds, which should Your Majesty incline to mercy, I will gladly place in Your Majesty's hands."

"Bribery, woman!" cried the King.

But I had wit enough to see the answer.

"God forbid, Your Majesty, but there must be some worthy friend, some needy charity which Your Majesty would be glad to relieve with this benefaction and evidence of our gratitude."

"What would you do, Jeffreys? The maid speaks fair."

"Were I the King," growled the Justice, "I would have the head of the Earl, the five thousand pounds, and the woman as well."

"And your advice, Lord Bishop?"

"I would give the maid her father's life, her own liberty, and return her the five thousand pounds."

The King paused.

"I choose the middle course. She shall have her liberty and her father's life, and we will keep the five thousand pounds ... for charity, my lords."

_Chapter_
X

_In which I bargain successfully for that which is
as dear to me as the Life of my Father_

I had succeeded in saving my father's life. It was incredible, but none the less true. Yet my task was but half achieved. All my joy would be turned into bitterness, if, through my action my good friend, Sir Hugh Richmond, were to suffer.

"Make out a pardon," continued the King, "for the traitorous Earl of Clanranald. Let it be conditioned upon his instant departure from our realm of Scotland. If he be found alive therein four days after he hath been enlarged from prison, his head shall be forfeit. Make out also a safe-conduct for this brave young lady back to Scotland."

The King spoke directly neither to the Bishop nor to the Justice. It was Jeffreys who broke the silence.

"Do it thou, Lord Bishop," he said roughly. "Thy hand is more used than mine to the writing of pardons."

"Thank God for that!" said the good Bishop, drawing writing materials toward him and at once beginning.

"Art satisfied with our royal clemency, madam?" said the King, smiling.

"Sire," I replied, "it fills me with joy, but 'tis only what I might have expected from your royal mercy."

May God forgive me for that atrocious lie! I whispered the instant I had uttered it, as I continued:

"I have yet another petition to lay before Your Majesty."

"What's that, girl?" said the King. "Hast another father?"

"Not a father this time. A lover, as I live!" roared Jeffreys triumphantly. "Said I not so, Your Majesty?"

"Not a lover," said I to the King, "but Sir Hugh Richmond lieth charged with treason under close arrest. I would also have a full pardon for him."

"Pardon for a traitor?"

"He is not so guilty as he seems, Your Majesty. I robbed him of the warrant fairly and burned it. It was not until after it had gone that he retook me, and then his treason consisted in letting me go free that I might appeal with confidence to Your Majesty's tender heart."

The King swelled visibly.

"Ay," he said, "tenderhearted should be the King. My lord Jeffreys, did any one ever attribute tender heart to you?"

"Not in the service of Your Majesty," bellowed the Justice. "I have no heart to pity treason to Your Majesty."

"'Blessed are the merciful,' interposed Ken softly, "'for they shall obtain mercy.'"

"Mercy," said the King, who was in a tender mood apparently, "'tis a pleasant word."

Indeed he might well think it so, since by common report it was one he was but little accustomed to use.

"Out upon both word and thing!" cried Jeffreys. "I plead for justice on the traitorous soldier. Your Majesty's power hath been limited already by the mercy you have shown the false Clanranald."

"'And earthly power doth then show likest God's when mercy seasons justice,'" quoted the Bishop still softly, looking kindly at me.

I recognised Master William Shakespeare's words as I had recognised them before on Master Dunner's lips.

The King hesitated as before between these two differing counsellors. And once more I threw the golden weights in the balance, hoping to incline it my way.

"If it please you, Sire, I have yet another five thousand pounds...."

The King started.

"For charity, Your Majesty," I added quickly, "if Sir Hugh Richmond be enlarged."

"By the Mass," said the King, betraying himself, at which Ken started, "methinks the lady rains gold pieces."

"Sir Hugh Richmond's whole estate will be confiscate, Your Majesty," said Jeffreys. "'Tis worth much more."

"Why, so it will," replied the King, "yet five thousand pounds more for charity, 'tis a goodly sum, hey, my Lord Bishop?"

"Indeed, Your Majesty, well expended it will relieve the suffering of many of God's poor," returned the Bishop.

"Quite so," said the King.

He stopped again. I had played my last card. I could do no more if it failed. Jeffreys opened his mouth to speak. As he did so, my heart sank, but the King stopped him.

"My Lord Chief Justice," he said, "we will decide this matter ourselves. Madam," he said at last, "your plea for mercy hath been heard again. Sir Hugh Richmond's life shall be spared. His estates shall be confiscate. He is broke from his rank, dismissed from our guards, and must leave our realm at once. My Lord Bishop, since you have already tried your hand, will you draw up the writing for that?"

"With alacrity, Your Majesty," said the Bishop, busying himself writing once more.

"Now, madam, I believe that all is completed except..."

The King paused.

I thrust my hand into the bosom of my dress and drew forth the bills of exchange. I very well knew what he wanted; the mean King, not content with confiscating my friend's estate, would have the bribe as well. He was more avaricious even than the base and contemptible Jeffreys if it were possible for any one to go lower than this unjust judge.

"They are here, Your Majesty, ten thousand pounds in bills of exchange upon London," I said, lifting them up.

"You may present them yourself, madam," said the King with a manner he meant to be gracious, as I made as if to hand them to General Feversham.

Thereupon, I approached the King, taking care that my access to him should be on the side of Bishop Ken, who drew back courteously as I came near. I knelt before the King and extended the papers. His Majesty took them, examined them cannily, laid them on the table before him, and extended his hand. I had just bought his favour in the most barefaced and open way, yet such as it was I had received mercy, although I knew that without the money, all my pleas would have been of no avail. There was no help for it; although I could rather have bitten it, I had to kiss the royal hand.

"Here are the writings, Your Majesty," said Bishop Ken.

The King signed them; they were sealed with the royal seal which lay upon the table, folded, tied, waxed by the Bishop's own hand, and then were handed to me. I had triumphed in all points. I could not resist a look at Jeffreys as I took them. And if looks could kill, he had been a dead man. Indeed, for that matter, my lord repaid my envenomed glance with interest. I little knew what was brewing behind his malevolent aspect.

"Here, too," said the King, "is your safe-conduct."

"I thank Your Majesty once more," said I, "with all the gratitude in a daughter's heart, and now I crave leave to withdraw."

"Wait!" cried Jeffreys hatefully. "Your Majesty, you have pardoned two notorious criminals, one an atrocious rebel, the other a traitor against your person. You have not, however, disposed of this woman."

"What mean ye, Jeffreys?"

"By her own confession she, too, is a traitor to Your Majesty. She robbed Sir Hugh Richmond on the King's Highway. She burned the warrant for her father."

"Shame!" protested the Bishop, rising. "This passeth all bounds, Your Majesty. I have kept silent while this bloodthirsty Man of Belial hath raved and blasphemed. Were I not a man of peace..."

"I wear a sword as I have said, Your Majesty," interposed Feversham, "and I will most gladly make this lady's cause my own if you will but give permission."

"Peace, gentlemen all! No brawling in our presence. My Lord Chief Justice hath spoken true. This woman is a traitor, and we have not yet disposed of her personal affairs."

I would have given the world at that moment for another five thousand pounds.

"Perchance," sneered Jeffreys, almost, as it were, reading my thoughts, "she hath come prepared with another offer to Your Majesty's needy charities. Is it so, madam?"

"Alas, sir," said I, lifting my hands, "you have my all. My only hope is in your clemency."

"You shall not hope in vain," said the King promptly and to the great surprise of everybody, I am sure.

"Thank God that I hear Your Majesty speak those words," cried the Bishop.

There was a muffled roar from Jeffreys.

"Is she to go scot-free, Your Majesty?"

"No," said the King. "Her punishment shall be suited to her crime."

What could that be, I thought, but death? Well, if I had saved my father and Sir Hugh, I could well die.

"I will confer," said the King, "with the Bishop here upon it."

At that my hopes took an upward bound.

"But first," he turned to me again, "I would have you return to your abiding place and after supper present yourself to me as the highwayman you have declared yourself to be. Meanwhile leave here the papers."

"Sire!" cried I imploringly.

"Enough," said the King. "My mind is made up as to that. Feversham, do you escort this lady. I hold you responsible for her custody. She must be produced here after supper, and mark ye that she come in manly fashion else she shall feel the weight of our displeasure."

"May I not have my father's and the soldier's pardons to take with me?"

"They shall be delivered to you to-night," was the unsatisfactory reply.

My heart sank. Perhaps some of my disappointment appeared in my face.

"On the word," said His Majesty, "of a king." He paused as if there were some doubt as to the value of that attestation, as indeed there was. "On the word of a gentleman, I promise you shall have them," he added.

He bowed not ungracefully. He had some of the Stewart charm, for all his meanness, when he chose to display it. He picked the pardons up and handed them to the Bishop.

"Here, my lord, do you be the custodian of them until the lady returns."

"I would Your Majesty had given them to me!" cried Jeffreys.

"I know you too well for that," laughed the King.

"You have played at mercy, Sire," said the Justice, frowning.

"It was my fancy," said the King haughtily, "for the first time; it may be for the last time, but whatever it be, I will not have it questioned. Go, Feversham. Until to-night, madam. And you, my lords, attend me."

The Earl of Feversham, who had evidently been deeply moved by my story, was kindness itself to me. His own carriage, a much more luxurious equipage with much better horses than the public conveyance I had hired, which he dismissed forthwith, was placed at my disposal. Together we rode back to the inn, and taking my word of honour that I would present myself in the parlour thereof in due time to enable us to keep the appointment with the King, he most obligingly left me to my own devices.

Bidding the inn maid who had accompanied me to call me without fail in time for me to make ready, I slipped off my dress, threw myself upon the bed, and fell instantly to sleep. The greater anxiety had been removed from my heart. Although I do not pretend to disdain life, yet since I had secured the freedom and immunity from further punishment of my father and my soldier, naught else very greatly mattered. I did not really think that anything very serious was toward, so far as I was concerned, and whatever may be the explanation, I fell fast asleep. The short period of rest greatly refreshed me and presently I felt another woman.

When the maid summoned me, I arose, bathed and put on my faded, tarnished suit of blue and silver. Round my waist I belted my sword, freshening the clothes where I could, and then booted, spurred, wigged, hatted, coated, armed, I descended to the parlour where the Earl of Feversham awaited me. He was evidently much struck by my appearance, but had the delicacy to say nothing.

We returned to the palace a-horseback, it being quicker and suited to the changed conditions. Promptly at the appointed time we were ushered into the presence of the King in the same room in which the interview of the afternoon had taken place. Now, I had worn this suit of blue and silver after the first compunction of conscience with absolute indifference. I had become entirely accustomed to it, and my modesty took no affront because I was seen abroad in it. I had passed muster easily enough for a stripling and I had never thought of what the clothes concealed or revealed until that moment when I stood in the presence of the King.

The same gentlemen who had been with him before were with him now, Jeffreys on his right, Ken on his left. Naturally I suppose I made a striking figure. Their curiosity was, without doubt, much excited, and they were all anxious to see me. The look that the Bishop bent upon me was full of interest, but it was full of a gentle consideration, almost of pity. He might have looked at his own daughter that way, deprecating the fact while he acknowledged the necessity for her unmaidenly appearance. But the glances of the King and his minion were so brutal, so suggestive, so degrading that unconsciously, as my face flamed and my body tingled, I clapped my hand to the hilt of my sword.

"By the Mass," laughed the King, although there was a quaver of uncertainty in his cowardly voice, "never lay your hand on your sword in the royal presence in that manner. Stay, madam," he cried hastily as I made a bold step forward. "Feversham!"

The officer quietly laid a restraining hand upon my arm.

"Bethink you where you are, madam," he whispered, "and how much depends on your conduct."

"Your Majesty," said I quickly, "I did but lay my hand upon my sword to proffer it in your service,"--which was another falsehood, for I would have been glad to have driven it into Jeffreys' black heart in his very presence; ay, even into the King's heart also.

"You come of a stock, madam," said the King, "which makes us doubt such protestations of true service. Yet she can be a bold enough enemy; hey, my lord?"

He turned to the Bishop.

"She hath shown here, Your Majesty," returned the prelate, "how deeply devoted she is to the noble earl, her father."

"She shows more than that," roared Jeffreys, leering lustfully, "she shows a pretty figure, a well turned leg...."

My hand went to my sword again. Had I been a man, I could not have more fiercely resented his disgracefully insulting words and looks. Again Feversham laid his hand upon my arm.

"Sire," he burst out, "this is unendurable. Your Majesty hath made me the protector and guardian of this lady. As a man of the sword I usually have little to do with those of the robe, but on my word..."

"I shall myself protect this lady's honour," interposed the King loftily.

It seemed to me that the protection was like to be that afforded by the wolf to the lamb. Still, however, bad as he might be, he did not equal Jeffreys in baseness. There was something apparently in being a king.

"And I think you go too far, Jeffreys," His Majesty ran on.

"Why, you wanted to see for yourself," the other muttered.

"Will you be silent, sir?" cried the King, now thoroughly aroused and indignant at being thus shamed before the rest, at which Jeffreys slunk back, abashed.

"Your story, madam," continued the monarch, addressing me, "seemed so incredible to me that I wished to see for my own eyes what appearance you made, and by our Lady, what hath been disclosed of your temper makes me the more inclined to credit it. We have deliberated carefully with the Lord Bishop as to your future punishment, and..."

He stopped.

"Wouldst like to stay at our court and win our royal favour?" he asked, with a certain eager solicitation in his bearing.

At this Jeffreys' lip curled, and the Bishop looked gravely anxious. They both knew very well what he meant and so, in sooth, did I.

"Your Majesty," said I, "I must share the fortunes of my father, and I take it that his presence will not be acceptable at your court."

"Very well then," said the King, looking very much disappointed at my refusal to his sudden proposition, "we will say no more on't, save to add this, should your inclinations ever change, you will find a warm welcome here ... I mean at court."

"I thank Your Majesty," said I.

The King turned to the Bishop, who arose, bowed, and presented three sealed documents. The King took them in his hand and then extended them to me.

"Here," said he, "is the pardon of your father, that of Sir Hugh Richmond, and..." he paused as he lifted the third paper, "and your own sentence."

"And may I ask what that is, Sire?"

"You may ask," was the answer, "but you are not to be told what it is until you reach Edinburgh."

"Whatever it may be," said I, "I shall submit to it gladly in view of Your Majesty's clemency to those I came hither to save."

The King laughed uproariously.

"Don't be too sure of that," he said. "Now, Feversham, will you have this lady and these documents delivered to General Ramesay and Sir Alexander Forfair at Edinburgh on pain of our displeasure and without delay?"

"Your Majesty," I cried, "let me take the pardons there alone. I give you my word of honour, Sire, that I will not break the seal or look within that which concerns me personally, but I will deliver it as it stands, and the others also, to the Lord Chief Justice."

"Your word of honour as a man?"

"As a woman, Sire."

"And why do you wish to go alone?"

"Because I can make the greater speed if I be not hampered by an escort of soldiery."

"Would you take a woman's word, Your Majesty?" growled Jeffreys.

"Not that of the women with whom you consort, my lord," said the King caustically, "but of this one, yes. How if you should be stopped, madam?"

"I can defend myself," I answered, "and these papers would be of no value to any one but myself. There is not a highwayman in Scotland who would despoil me of them, or who, knowing my story, would not aid my progress."

"You shall go as you came, alone," said the King. "Feversham, take orders for the lady's departure on the morrow, escort her safely beyond the limits of the town."

"It shall be done, Your Majesty," returned the soldier.

"And now, Sire," I asked, "have I leave to retire?"

"You may go," said the King magniloquently, "and hereafter, when men speak ill of me as they often do of kings, remember that in your case at least I used you well."

"I shall not forget, Your Majesty," said I, bowing low, "your royal kindness, nor the reasons therefor," I could not help adding in spite of the danger, as I thought how I had bribed him.

The King looked at me suspiciously at this equivocal compliment, which was a great act of folly on my part, for I had not yet got away with my precious documents, but by great good-fortune for me he said nothing.

"Have I Your Majesty's leave to speak a word of farewell and acknowledgment to Your Majesty's friends?" I asked further.

The King nodded gravely.

"As for you, sir," then said I, turning to the Bishop, "you have been a father in God indeed to the afflicted and the troubled, the cast down and the weak. I shall remember it in far Scotland, and before I go, may I ask your prayers and your blessing?"

I humbly knelt before him as I had not knelt since I had knelt to the King himself when I first entered the room.

The old man, his homely face lighted with divine and tender compassion, laid his hands upon my head and prayed for my defence.

"You have said well," commented the King, somewhat touched by this tender action, "for you owe more to the cleric than you dream of. Now, 'tis your turn, Jeffreys."

He laughed viciously.

"As for you, sir," said I, rising and turning toward him,--I stood this time with my head up and my hand upon my sword,--"I would to God I were in truth instead of seeming a man, for, saving the royal presence, I would drive this weapon through your black heart, and were there any men of my race alive, they would never rest until they had struck you down."

"Treason, treason!" bellowed Jeffreys. "She would raise a weapon against the King, his Justice, Your Majesty!"

"You brought it on yourself," said the King coolly. "Faith, I like the woman's spirit. Look to it, Jeffreys! Look to it! Hast any word for me, madam?"

"No more than I have said, Sire, save to wish that I had another five thousand pounds."

The King started.

"For Your Majesty's charities."

"You have said words enough," returned James, who evidently liked ill the turn of the conversation. "Had best withdraw from our presence now."

I went out of the chamber with my colours flying, General Feversham in attendance upon me. The gallant soldier chuckled mightily when we were safely out of earshot of the King.

"Faith, madam," he said, "you made a fine end. Ride you to-morrow morning?"

"Sir," said I, "a word in your ear. You will not betray me?"

"On the faith of a soldier, no."

"I fear the King, I fear Lord Jeffreys more. He is capable of apprehending me and destroying the pardons. Therefore, I ride to-night."

"But you are road-weary."

"What of that? I will take an unfrequented road, and lie to-morrow in some quiet spot until I be recovered."

"You shall not go alone," said Feversham. "The peril that you mention is not imaginary. I myself will ride the night through with you. Nay, I have a wife and daughters older than yourself. You may trust me without fear."

"Indeed, I do," I cried, gladly extending my hand, which the brave soldier took and shook vigorously.

"I will see you safely over the frontiers. Damn that Jeffreys for a black-hearted villain. He is a man of peace, but he hath slain and tortured more in his Bloody Assize than even that most ruthless soldier Kirke himself."

Which was putting it pretty strongly, indeed, I thought!

_Chapter_
XI

_Wherein Sir Hugh Richmond finds me, not
unwilling, thrust upon him_

Six days after, my return progress being slower than my dash southward, I rode through the gates of Edinburgh.

The Earl of Feversham had been as good as his word. He had convoyed me by retired roads until all possibility of interference had been avoided. At the first convenient opportunity I had lain down and slept a day and a night straight through. Had I not enjoyed this chance for rest, I should have died of sheer fatigue and nervous strain. As it was, I was still a wreck of a woman when I was halted by the soldiers of the guard at the familiar city gate.

"Is your name Carthew?" cried the officer, who had been summoned by the sentry as I approached.

"Well, sir, I have sometimes been so called," I answered.

"Humph!"

He read from a lengthy written description in his hand:

"'Young, slight, fair of face, a woman in man's attire, a riding suit of blue and silver, sometimes known as Carthew.'"

The description certainly fitted me.

"Madam, or sir, whatever you be, you are under arrest," he said. "We have been searching for you for ten days. I have orders to convey you instantly you are apprehended to the castle and turn you over to the Commandant or the Lord Chief Justice."

"I would fain make some change in my apparel, sir. You have guessed right; I am a woman. I should like to resume the garments of my sex, but after that, I shall be at your service. Indeed, you could do me no greater kindness than to take me speedily where you mention."

"I should like to oblige you, madam," said the officer, "but my orders admit of no discretion. As you are, you must be delivered to the Commandant at once."

"Very well, then. I will give you my word," said I, "if you will allow me to ride quietly by your side, to make no effort to escape your custody."

"Your word!" said the officer. "The word of one Carthew, a traitor?"

"The word of Lady Katharine Clanranald, daughter of the Earl of Clanranald, carrying messages from His Majesty, the King, to Governor Ramesay and Lord Chief Justice Forfair," I answered quite calmly.

The officer stared.

"So that's the solution of the mystery," he exclaimed. "Very well, madam, I accept your word. If you will wait here a moment until my horse is saddled, we will proceed."

His trust in my honour touched me. In a short time, his horse was brought around. He spoke to a squad of cavalry, and I riding by his side, we cantered through the streets and up toward the castle.

General Ramesay and Sir Alexander Forfair were closeted together. So soon as the officer declared who was the prisoner he brought, I was instantly admitted. It was the same chamber, I afterwards learned, in which Sir Hugh had submitted to the questioning. The two gentlemen were alone. The officer was dismissed. I was courteously invited to a seat and the questioning began.

"You are, I take it," said Sir Alexander, "Lady Katharine Clanranald?"

"I am, sir."

"You stopped the King's messenger on the King's Highway a fortnight ago?"

"I did, sir."

"You robbed him of the royal warrant for the execution of your father. This warrant was destroyed."

"I cannot deny it."

"Afterward by cajolery, or bribery, or whatever female arts or influence you possess, you suborned an honest soldier, you won him away from his duty, you made him a traitor to his King, and faithless to his cause."

"Sir," said I, "if to be touched by the misfortunes of a daughter who risked life and reputation to save her father, especially when the warrant had been destroyed before he reached me; and if to extend compassion to a woman wounded, helpless, and at his mercy be to fail in his duty, to betray his trust, to be a traitor to his King, then I suppose that I cannot deny the charge against Sir Hugh."

"Do you deny, madam," asked the Chief Justice sternly, "that it was all arranged between you; that the scheme was concocted in the inn, that you and he connived together by superficial wounds, perhaps self-inflicted, to give your own interpretation to the facts?"

Oh, how fierce was his look at poor me!

"On my solemn word, sir, as my father's daughter, I do deny that. I did deliberately rob Sir Hugh Richmond, but without his knowledge beforehand. We had met in friendly converse the night before and had conceived a mutual regard for each other."

General Ramesay smiled, and even a flicker of humour appeared on the face of Sir Alexander. I resented it hotly.

"As one man and another," I cried, "for Sir Hugh knew not that I was a woman until later. I will admit that he was unsuspicious of me, and that gave me the only advantage by which I could have hoped to overcome so tried a soldier. As for the rest, sirs, it happened as I have said. It was pure kindness of heart toward me. And what would have been gained by handing poor me over to punishment since the warrant had been destroyed, sirs?"

"That was not a matter about which a soldier need have inquired," said General Ramesay. "He had a certain duty to do. He failed to do it. He has been arrested, tried, condemned."

"But not executed!" I cried, laying my hand upon my heart and turning very white.

"Not yet, madam," said the General, looking very stern.

"How could he be tried without me as the principal witness?"

"He hath admitted everything, except to disclose your name, rank, and whereabouts."

"Indeed, madam, you yourself are a prisoner and must submit to the same trial," interrupted the Justice.

"Nay, not so, your lordship," I answered triumphantly.

I drew from the pocket of my coat the three papers.

"Here," said I, extending one, "is His Majesty's free pardon for the Earl, my father. This," I continued, laying the other upon the table, "is a document of similar purport for Sir Hugh Richmond."

I held back the third, while Sir Alexander Forfair eagerly picked up the other two. He broke the seals, scanned them hastily, passed them to General Ramesay, and then addressed me.

"Madam, it is as you say. Never did I receive orders with a better grace, never shall I carry out royal mandates with a lighter heart. Hey, Ramesay?"

"As for the Earl," said the General, "he is a political prisoner with whom I am not greatly concerned, but I am rejoiced indeed that my old friend and comrade, Sir Hugh Richmond, is to go free. He hath failed in his duty, 'tis true, but, by Heaven, madam, when I look at you, I find excuse for him."

"But yourself, Lady Katharine," said the Justice gravely, "you at least are not relieved by these documents."

"Sir," said I, "I have here still a third paper of importance."

"What saith it?"

"With its contents I am not acquainted, but His Majesty did declare that it prescribed my punishment. I gave my word to him that I would deliver it to your lordship unopened, and you can testify that I do so."

"Hast not thy share of the curiosity of woman, madam?" queried the Justice.

"Not in this case, my lord," said I boldly. "I left it with my petticoats."

"Wouldst know thy fate, girl?" he continued, breaking the seal and looking at me before he examined the contents.

"So long as my father and ... friend are free, what happens to me is of little consequence," was my answer.

The Lord Chief Justice looked at the paper. His lips twitched. He passed it over to General Ramesay. Less controlled than the other, the soldier burst into a loud laugh.

"A sentence, indeed!" he cried. "How think you it will be liked?"

"Prisoners, I believe," returned the Justice, "are not consulted as to their likes and dislikes when sentence is passed upon them."

This was all very mystifying to me, but at least it was evident that my punishment was not very terrible. Sir Alexander and the General consulted together in whispers for a few moments, and then the soldier spoke to me.

"Madam, your sentence contemplates a life imprisonment, but under conditions which perhaps may make it bearable. I regret extremely to be compelled to communicate such unpleasant tidings to you, but I have no option, and as the sentence is to commence immediately on your arrival here, I shall have to order you into close confinement at once."

"May I not see my father?" said I, bravely striving to keep up heart under this tremendous and surprising prospect. Indeed, I could see nothing in it to cause such laughter on the part of the two old men before me.

"Presently, madam, but not now."

"And if I might see Sir Hugh Richmond for a moment, I should like to tell him," I faltered, "that I have succeeded in securing his freedom, as I am responsible for his detention."

"Presently, presently," said the Justice. "Meanwhile, I will prepare orders for your father's freedom and for Sir Hugh's as well, but you will have to obey General Ramesay's orders. There is no choice."

"Let me see my father, then, as soon as possible, and Sir Hugh Richmond, if he care to visit me and it is permitted," said I, rising and preparing to follow the Governor.

He escorted me gravely along several corridors and down several flights of stairs until we came to the strong rooms of the castle. Summoning a turnkey, we paused before a locked and grated door.

"Your present place of detention will be here, madam," he said as the door was unlocked.

I entered the room. It was bare and simply furnished, empty of other person than myself. Some grated windows admitted light, but were so high placed that I could not see anything but sky out of them. It was indeed a prison. There was an opening in the wall beyond, closed with a door.

"Should you care to do so," said the commandant very softly, "you may open the door and enter the other room. Is there anything I can do for you before I go?"

"Send me some clothes suitable to my sex and station, if you will. Master Dunner, the advocate, will procure them, I am sure. And that is all, sir."

"They shall be sent for immediately," said the General, bowing himself out.

I heard the door close; I heard the key turn in the lock. I was alone. My great adventure was over; my punishment had begun. Well, I had saved my father's life and Sir Hugh Richmond's life. I was willing to pay the price by the long confinement to which I must perforce look forward. This was the mercy of the King! I tried to keep up a brave heart, and yet after a while I failed. I sank down on a rude chair by a ruder table, and laid my head on my arms, and cried just like any other woman.

A noise called me to myself. Fearful, I raised my head. The door to the right into the other room was open. A man stood in fair view under the arch of it. It was Sir Hugh Richmond.

"My God!" he exclaimed. "Lady Katharine, is it you? What do you here?"

"I am a prisoner," I faltered, "a prisoner for life." He came closer to me. "But you are free, sir."

"What mean you?"

"I rode south to King James. His Majesty hath been graciously pleased to pardon you,"--was there indication of my feelings in the fact that I put Sir Hugh first?--"you and my father," I said. "But me he hath condemned to imprisonment for life."

"The dog!" cried the soldier. "I renounce his allegiance. The cruel, brutal tyrant! And I have fought for him. Madam, I will not have it so. I will go to him myself and wrest from him your pardon."

"You cannot," I cried; "by the terms of your release, if you are found in Scotland within four days thereafter, you are to be killed as an outlaw without recourse."

"And if I were to be shot the next moment, I would still force my way into his presence if for naught but to tell him what I thought of him. What is life, what is freedom for me without you? I might not tell you before when I had rendered you some slight service, but now when there is much to do for you, I can declare that I love you, and you only, and that without you life, liberty are nothing."

"Is this," said I, "one of those protestations which spring fortnightly from your lips?"

"Madam, it springs eternally from my heart. I am ashamed of my foolish words."

"And your ideal woman?" I persisted.

"Lady Katharine," said the man, "I never thought to see her, to look upon her as I do now. I never thought..."

He came closer to me; he caught me in his arms. Was I too tired or disinclined to struggle, I wonder? At any rate, he was not to be denied in his purpose.

"I never thought," he went on, "thus to hold her in my arms. I never expected thus to kiss her lips."

He suited his action to his words. And I--what was the matter with me?--I resisted not; I lay there trembling, thrilling--his own!

"I am a prisoner," I said at last when he gave me breath and space to talk, although still he held me close, and still my arms clung about his neck. "I can be nothing to you except...."

"I would tear down the castle stone by stone, hurl the King from his throne itself, but I would have you now," said my soldier.

Neither of us had noticed that the door at the back of the room had opened. It was Sir Alexander Forfair's dry and caustic voice which broke upon our passion.

"Still talking treason, Sir Hugh?" he said, shaking his finger. "But we will overlook it this time. We have not heard a word. Hey, General Ramesay?"

"I am as deaf as the walls, your lordship," replied the soldier.

Sir Hugh and I parted in great confusion. At that moment my eye fell upon the tall figure of my father, white-haired, bent and broken from his long confinement. In a moment I was in his arms, the others standing aside respectfully to let us come together. As I hung upon my father, as he kissed me, fondled me, and blessed me, it was Sir Hugh's voice which interrupted us.

"Sir," said he to General Ramesay, "is that the Earl of Clanranald?"

"The same," said the General.

"By your leave, sir," continued the young soldier stepping forward, "I am Sir Hugh Richmond of Surrey, until recently an officer in the King's Guards, now a disgraced soldier, and if I understand your daughter aright, sentenced to exile like yourself. I am not without friends upon the continent, especially in Holland whither I propose to retire, and whither I should be glad, if your plans permit, to have you accompany me. Nor am I absolutely penniless, for I have certain moneys at interest in that country which are at your service. For the rest, I love your daughter; I would fain make her my wife. May I have your consent to our union, my lord?"

At this Sir Alexander and the General looked at each other and smiled again.

"I know naught of you, sir," replied the old Earl courteously. "You seem a gallant gentleman." He hesitated. "I am old, friendless, alone. This is the last of my ancient race. What saith my daughter?"

Thus adjured I spoke up bravely.

"If it pleases you, sir, to give your consent, I shall be very happy," I answered. "Had it not been for Sir Hugh's kindness to me, I had not succeeded in procuring your freedom. You know the story?"

"Master Dunner hath told me. And you wish to marry this gentleman?"

"'Tis the dearest wish of my heart," I said with growing courage and resolution.

"It is also evidently," interposed Sir Alexander Forfair, "the dearest wish of His Majesty the King's heart as well."

He lifted a paper as he spoke, which I immediately recognised.

"My punishment!" I exclaimed in amazement.

"'Tis indeed a heavy one."

"Imprisonment for life," I broke out.

"Even so, madam, but in the custody of Sir Hugh Richmond, who will give bond, a marriage bond, forthwith to safeguard the prisoner."

"With all I have, or hope to have," answered the delighted soldier.

And this time before them all once more he took me in his arms.

Outside in the corridor, a priest, the chaplain of the garrison, waited, and there before them all, clad as I was, I placed my hand in that of my soldier, and we were made man and wife.

The brief ceremony was soon over. There was little time for delay; we had but four days in which to leave Scotland, yet the others considerately withdrew, leaving me alone with my husband for a moment. The door was open and there was none to bar our going when we chose. The footfalls of my father, who was the last to go, had scarce died away in the passage when my husband took me once more in his arms.

"I feel," said I, "as if I had won you at the pistol's point."

"My lad," said he, laughing, "as I told thee before, I am glad to have thee in my company and under my command."

"You shall find me," said I, "a faithful comrade, a dutiful and obedient..." I paused ... "soldier," I managed to say before he clasped me close again.