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

proposal.”

“My lord,” said Christian, smiling, “I shall produce no such ultimate argument on my part, though possibly, in time of need, I may not be found destitute of them. But my defence is in the situation of things, and in the composed view which, doubtless, your Majesty will take of them.”

“Majesty!” repeated the Duke—“My good friend Christian, you have kept company with the Puritans so long, that you confuse the ordinary titles of the Court.”

“I know not how to apologise,” said Christian, “unless your Grace will suppose that I spoke by prophecy.”

“Such as the devil delivered to Macbeth,” said the Duke—again paced the chamber, and again seated himself, and said, “Be plain, Christian—speak out at once, and manfully, what is it you intend?”

“I,” said Christian—“What should I do?—I can do nothing in such a matter; but I thought it right that your Grace should know that the godly of this city”—(he spoke the word with a kind of ironical grin)—“are impatient of inactivity, and must needs be up and doing. My brother Bridgenorth is at the head of all old Weiver’s congregation; for you must know, that, after floundering from one faith to another, he hath now got beyond ordinances, and is become a Fifth-Monarchy man. He has nigh two hundred of Weiver’s people, fully equipped, and ready to fall on; and, with slight aid from your Grace’s people, they must carry Whitehall, and make prisoners of all within it.”

“Rascal!” said the Duke, “and is it to a Peer of England you make this communication?”

“Nay,” answered Christian, “I admit it would be extreme folly in your Grace to appear until all is over. But let me give Blood and the others a hint on your part. There are the four Germans also—right Knipperdolings and Anabaptists—will be specially useful. You are wise, my lord, and know the value of a corps of domestic gladiators, as well as did Octavius, Lepidus, and Anthony, when, by such family forces, they divided the world by indenture tripartite.”

“Stay, stay,” said the Duke. “Even if these bloodhounds were to join with you—not that I would permit it without the most positive assurances for the King’s personal safety—but say the villains were to join, what hope have you of carrying the Court?”

“Bully Tom Armstrong,[*] my lord, hath promised his interest with the Life Guards. Then there are my Lord Shaftesbury’s brisk boys in the city—thirty thousand on the holding up a finger.”

[*] Thomas, or Sir Thomas Armstrong, a person who had distinguished himself in youth by duels and drunken exploits. He was particularly connected with the Duke of Monmouth, and was said to be concerned in the Rye-House Plot, for which he suffered capital punishment, 20th June 1684.

“Let him hold up both hands, and if he count a hundred for each finger,” said the Duke, “it will be more than I expect. You have not spoken to him?”

“Surely not till your Grace’s pleasure was known. But, if he is not applied to, there is the Dutch train, Hans Snorehout’s congregation, in the Strand—there are the French Protestants in Piccadilly—there are the family of Levi in Lewkenor’s Lane—the Muggletonians in Thames Street——”

“Ah, faugh!—Out upon them—out upon them!—How the knaves will stink of cheese and tobacco when they come upon action!—they will drown all the perfumes in Whitehall. Spare me the detail; and let me know, my dearest Ned, the sum total of thy most odoriferous forces.”

“Fifteen hundred men, well armed,” said Christian, “besides the rabble that will rise to a certainty—they have already nearly torn to pieces the prisoners who were this day acquitted on account of the Plot.”

“All, then, I understand.—And now, hark ye, most Christian Christian,” said he, wheeling his chair full in front of that on which his agent was seated, “you have told me many things to-day—Shall I be equally communicative? Shall I show you that my accuracy of information matches yours? Shall I tell you, in a word, why you have at once resolved to push every one, from the Puritan to the free-thinker, upon a general attack of the Palace of Whitehall, without allowing me, a peer of the realm, time either to pause upon or to prepare for a step so desperate? Shall I tell you why you would lead or drive, seduce or compel me, into countenancing your measures?”

“My lord, if you please to form a guess,” said Christian, “I will answer with all sincerity, if you have assigned the right cause.”

“The Countess of Derby is this day arrived, and attends the Court this evening, with hopes of the kindest reception. She may be surprised amid the mêlée?—Ha! said I not right, Master Christian? You, who pretend to offer me revenge, know yourself its exquisite sweetness.”

“I would not presume,” said Christian, half smiling, “to offer your Grace a dish without acting as your taster as well as purveyor.”

“That’s honestly said,” said the Duke. “Away then, my friend. Give Blood this ring—he knows it, and knows how to obey him who bears it. Let him assemble my gladiators, as thou dost most wittily term my coup jarrets. The old scheme of the German music may be resorted to, for I think thou hast the instruments ready. But take notice, I know nothing on’t; and Rowley’s person must be safe—I will hang and burn on all hands if a hair of his black periwig[*] be but singed.—Then what is to follow—a Lord Protector of the realm—or stay—Cromwell has made the word somewhat slovenly and unpopular—a Lord Lieutenant of the Kingdom?—The patriots who take it on themselves to avenge the injustice done to the country, and to remove evil counsellors from before the King’s throne, that it may be henceforward established in righteousness—so I think the rubric runs—cannot fail to make a fitting choice.”

[*] Charles, to suit his dark complexion, always wore a black peruke. He used to say of the players, that if they wished to represent a villain on the stage, “Oddsfish, they always clapp’d on him a black periwig, whereas the greatest rogue in England [meaning, probably, Dr. Oates] wears a white one.”—See CIBBER’s Apology.

“They cannot, my Lord Duke,” said Christian, “since there is but one man in the three kingdoms on whom that choice can possibly fall.”

“I thank you Christian,” said his Grace; “and I trust you. Away, and make all ready. Be assured your services shall not be forgot. We will have you near to us.”

“My Lord Duke,” said Christian, “you bind me doubly to you. But remember that as your Grace is spared any obnoxious proceedings which may befall in the way of military execution, or otherwise, so it will be advisable that you hold yourself in preparation, upon a moment’s notice, to put yourself at the head of a band of honourable friends and allies, and come presently to the palace, where you will be received by the victors as a commander, and by the vanquished as a preserver.”

“I conceive you—I conceive you. I will be in prompt readiness,” said the Duke.

“Ay, my lord,” continued Christian; “and for Heaven’s sake, let none of those toys, which are the very Delilahs of your imagination, come across your Grace this evening, and interfere with the execution of this sublime scheme.”

“Why, Christian, dost think me mad?” was his Grace’s