Peveril of the Peak by Walter Scott (best fiction novels of all time TXT) 📕

that can give you the least title to notice from such as I am? What name shall I bestow on the little transaction which has given rise to such unexpected misunderstanding?”

Christian was silent, either from rage or from mental conviction.

“Come, come, Christian,” said the Duke, smiling, “we know too much of each other to make a quarrel safe. Hate each other we may—circumvent each other—it is the way of Courts—but proclaim!—a fico for the phrase.”

“I used it not,” said Christian, “till your Grace drove me to extremity. You know, my lord, I have fought both at home and abroad; and you should not rashly think that I will endure any indignity which blood can wipe away.”

“On the contrary,” said the Duke, with the same civil and sneering manner, “I can confidently assert, that the life of half a score of your friends would seem very light to you, Christian, if their existence interfered, I do not say with your character, as being a thing of much less consequence, but with any advantage which their existence might intercept. Fie upon it, man, we have known each other long. I never thought you a coward; and am only glad to see I could strike a few sparkles of heat out of your cold and constant disposition. I will now, if you please, tell you at once the fate of the young lady, in which I pray you to believe that I am truly interested.”

“I hear you, my Lord Duke,” said Christian. “The curl of your upper lip, and your eyebrow, does not escape me. Your Grace knows the French proverb, ‘He laughs best who laughs last.’ But I hear you.”

“Thank Heaven you do,” said Buckingham; “for your case requires haste, I promise you, and involves no laughing matter. Well then, hear a simple truth, on which (if it became me to offer any pledge for what I assert to be such) I could pledge life, fortune, and honour. It was the morning before last, when meeting with the King at Chiffinch’s unexpectedly—in fact I had looked in to fool an hour away, and to learn how your scheme advanced—I saw a singular scene. Your niece terrified little Chiffinch—(the hen Chiffinch, I mean)—bid the King defiance to his teeth, and walked out of the presence triumphantly, under the guardianship of a young fellow of little mark or likelihood, excepting a tolerable personal presence, and the advantage of a most unconquerable impudence. Egad, I can hardly help laughing to think how the King and I were both baffled; for I will not deny, that I had tried to trifle for a moment with the fair Indamora. But, egad, the young fellow swooped her off from under our noses, like my own Drawcansir clearing off the banquet from the two Kings of Brentford. There was a dignity in the gallant’s swaggering retreat which I must try to teach Mohun;[*] it will suit his part admirably.”

[*] Then a noted actor.

“This is incomprehensible, my Lord Duke,” said Christian, who by this time had recovered all his usual coolness; “you cannot expect me to believe this. Who dared be so bold as to carry of my niece in such a manner, and from so august a presence? And with whom, a stranger as he must have been, would she, wise and cautious as I know her, have consented to depart in such a manner?—My lord, I cannot believe this.”

“One of your priests, my most devoted Christian,” replied the Duke, “would only answer, Die, infidel, in thine unbelief; but I am only a poor worldling sinner, and I will add what mite of information I can. The young fellow’s name, as I am given to understand, is Julian, son of Sir Geoffrey, whom men call Peveril of the Peak.”

“Peveril of the Devil, who hath his cavern there!” said Christian warmly; “for I know that gallant, and believe him capable of anything bold and desperate. But how could he intrude himself into the royal presence? Either Hell aids him, or Heaven looks nearer into mortal dealings than I have yet believed. If so, may God forgive us, who deemed he thought not on us at all!”

“Amen, most Christian Christian,” replied the Duke. “I am glad to see thou hast yet some touch of grace that leads thee to augur so. But Empson, the hen Chiffinch, and half-a-dozen more, saw the swain’s entrance and departure. Please examine these witnesses with your own wisdom, if you think your time may not be better employed in tracing the fugitives. I believe he gained entrance as one of some dancing or masking party. Rowley, you know, is accessible to all who will come forth to make him sport. So in stole this termagant tearing gallant, like Samson among the Philistines, to pull down our fine scheme about our ears.”

“I believe you, my lord,” said Christian; “I cannot but believe you; and I forgive you, since it is your nature, for making sport of what is ruin and destruction. But which way did they take?”

“To Derbyshire, I should presume, to seek her father,” said the Duke. “She spoke of going into paternal protection, instead of yours, Master Christian. Something had chanced at Chiffinch’s, to give her cause to suspect that you had not altogether provided for his daughter in the manner which her father was likely to approve of.”

“Now, Heaven be praised,” said Christian, “she knows not her father is come to London! and they must be gone down either to Martindale Castle, or to Moultrassie Hall; in either case they are in my power—I must follow them close. I will return instantly to Derbyshire—I am undone if she meet her father until these errors are amended. Adieu, my lord. I forgive the part which I fear your Grace must have had in baulking our enterprise—it is no time for mutual reproaches.”

“You speak truth, Master Christian,” said the Duke, “and I wish you all success. Can I help you with men, or horses, or money?”

“I thank your Grace,” said Christian, and hastily left the apartment.

The Duke watched his descending footsteps on the staircase, until they could be heard no longer, and then exclaimed to Jerningham, who entered, “Victoria! victoria! magna est veritas et prævalebit!—Had I told the villain a word of a lie, he is so familiar with all the regions of falsehood—his whole life has been such an absolute imposture, that I had stood detected in an instant; but I told him truth, and that was the only means of deceiving him. Victoria! my dear Jerningham, I am prouder of cheating Christian, than I should have been of circumventing a minister of state.”

“Your Grace holds his wisdom very high,” said the attendant.

“His cunning, at least, I do, which, in Court affairs, often takes the weather-gage of wisdom,—as in Yarmouth Roads a herring-buss will baffle a frigate. He shall not return to London if I can help it, until all these intrigues are over.”

As his Grace spoke, the Colonel, after whom he had repeatedly made inquiry, was announced by a gentleman of his household. “He met not Christian, did he?” said the Duke hastily.

“No, my lord,” returned the domestic, “the Colonel came by the old garden staircase.”

“I judged as much,” replied the Duke; “‘tis an owl that will not take wing in daylight, when there is a thicket left to skulk under. Here he comes from threading lane, vault, and ruinous alley, very near ominous a creature as