Authors: Rafael Sabatini
His quick wits having fathomed Trenchard's motive, Mr. Wilding was deeply touched by this proof of friendship, and for a second, as deeply nonplussed, at a loss now how to discharge the task on
which he came.
"You are very choicely come, Mr. Wilding," said Albemarle. "You will be able to resolve me certain doubts which have been set on foot by these traitors."
"That," said Mr. Wilding, "is the purpose for which I am here. News reached me of the arrest that had been made. May I beg that Your Grace will place me in possession of the facts that have so
far transpired."
It was one of his secretaries who, at Albemarle's bidding, gave Wilding the information that he craved. He listened gravely; then, before Albemarle had time to question him on the score of the
name that might have been upon the enfolding wrapper of the letter, he begged that he might confer apart a moment with Mr. Trenchard.
"But Mr. Wilding," said Colonel Luttrell, surprised not to hear the immediate denial of the imputation they had expected, "we should first like to hear . . ."
"By your leave, sirs," Wilding interrupted, "I should prefer that you ask me nothing until I have consulted with Mr. Trenchard." He saw Luttrell's frown, observed Sir Edward shift his wig to
scratch his head in sheer perplexity, and caught the foreshadowing of denial on the Duke's face. So, without giving any of them time to say him nay, he added quickly and very seriously, "I am
begging this in the interests of justice. Your Grace has told me that some lingering doubt still haunts your mind upon the subject of this letter — the other charges can matter little, apart
from that treasonable document. It lies within my power to resolve such doubts most clearly and finally. But I warn you, sirs, that not one word will I utter in this connection until I have had
speech with Mr. Trenchard."
There was about his mien and voice a firmness that forewarned Albemarle that to insist would be worse than idle. A slight pause followed his words, and Luttrell leaned across to whisper in His
Grace's ear; from the Duke's other side Sir Edward bent his head forward till it almost touched those of his companions. Blake watched, and was most foolishly impatient.
"Your Grace will never allow this!" he cried.
"Eh?" said Albemarle, scowling at him.
"If you allow those two villains to consort together we are all undone," the baronet protested, and ruined what chance there was of Albemarle's not consenting.
It was the one thing needed to determine Albemarle. Like the stubborn man he was, there was naught he detested so much as to have his course dictated to him. More than that, in Sir Rowland's
anxiety that Wilding and Trenchard should not be allowed to confer apart, he smoked a fear on Sir Rowland's part, based upon the baronet's consciousness of his own guilt. He turned from him with a
sneering smile, and without so much as consulting his associates he glanced at Wilding and waved his hand towards the door.
"Pray do as you suggest, Mr. Wilding," said he. "But I depend upon you not to tax our patience."
"I shall not keep Mr. Trenchard a moment longer than is necessary," said Wilding, giving no hint of the second meaning in his words.
He stepped to the door, opened it himself, and signed to Trenchard to pass out. The old player obeyed him readily, if in silence. An usher closed the door after them, and in silence they walked
together to the end of the passage.
"Where is your horse, Nick?" quoth Wilding abruptly.
"What a plague do you mean, where is my horse?" flashed Trenchard. "What midsummer frenzy is this? Damn you for a marplot, Anthony! What a pox are you thinking of to thrust yourself in here at
such a time?"
"I had no knowledge you were in the affair," said Wilding. "You should have told me." His manner was brisk to the point of dryness. "However, there is still time to get you out of it. Where is
your horse?"
"Damn my horse!" answered Trenchard in a passion. "You have spoiled everything!"
"On the contrary," said Mr. Wilding tartly, "it seems you had done that very thoroughly before I arrived. Whilst I am touched by the regard for me which has misled you into turning the tables on
Blake and Westmacott, yet I do blame you for this betrayal of the Cause."
"There was no help for it."
"Why, no; and that is why you should have left matters where they stood."
Trenchard stamped his foot; indeed, he almost danced in the excess of his vexation. "Left them where they stood!" he echoed. "Body o' me! Where are your wits? Left them where they stood! And at
any moment you might have been taken unawares as a consequence of this accusation being lodged against you by Richard or by Blake. Then the Cause would have been betrayed, indeed."
"Not more so than it is now."
"Not less, at least," snapped the player. "You give me credit for no more wit than yourself. Do you think that I am the man to do things by halves? I have betrayed the plot to Albemarle; but do
you imagine I have made no provision for what must follow?"
"Provision?" echoed Wilding, staring.
"Aye, provision. God lack! What do you suppose Albemarle will do?"
"Dispatch a messenger to Whitehall with the letter within an hour."
"You perceive it, do you? And where the plague do you think Nick Trenchard'll be what time that messenger rides?"
Mr. Wilding understood. "Aye, you may stare," sneered Trenchard. "A letter that has once been stolen may be stolen again. The courier must go by way of Walford. I had in my mind arranged the
spot, close by the ford, where I should fall upon him, rob him of his dispatches, and take him — bound hand and foot if necessary — to Vallancey's, who lives close by; and there I'd
leave him until word came that the Duke had landed."
"That the Duke had landed?" cried Wilding. "You talk as though the thing were imminent."
"And imminent it is. For aught we know he may be in England already."
Mr. Wilding laughed impatiently. "You must forever be building on these crack-brained rumours, Nick," said he.
"Rumours!" roared the other. "Rumours? Ha!" He checked his wild scorn, and proceeded in a different key. "I was forgetting. You do not know the contents of that stolen letter."
Wilding started. Underlying his disbelief in the talk of the countryside, and even in the military measures which by the King's orders were being taken in the West, was an uneasy dread lest they
should prove to be well founded, lest Argyle's operations in Scotland should be but the forerunner of a rash and premature invasion by Monmouth. He knew the Duke was surrounded by such reckless,
foolhardy counsellors as Grey and Ferguson — and yet he could not think the Duke would ruin all by coming before he had definite word that his friends were ready. He looked at Trenchard now
with anxious eyes.
"Have you seen the letter, Nick?" he asked, and almost dreaded the reply.
"Albemarle showed it me an hour ago," said Trenchard.
"And it contains?"
"The news we fear. It is in the Duke's own hand, and intimates that he will follow it in a few days — in a few days, man — in person."
Mr. Wilding clenched teeth and hands. "God help us all, then!" he muttered grimly.
"Meanwhile," quoth Trenchard, bringing him back to the point, "there is this precious business here. I had as choice a plan as could have been devised, and it must have succeeded, had you not
come blundering into it to mar it all at the last moment. That fat fool Albemarle had swallowed my impeachment like a draught of muscadine. Do you hear me?" he ended sharply, for Mr. Wilding stood
bemused, his thoughts plainly wandering.
He let his hand fall upon Trenchard's shoulder. "No," said he, "I wasn't listening. No matter; for even had I known the full extent of your scheme I still must have interfered."
"For the sake of Mistress Westmacott's blue eyes, no doubt," sneered Trenchard. "Pah! Wherever there's a woman there's the loss of a man."
"For the sake of Mistress
Wilding
'
s
blue eyes," his friend corrected him. "I'll allow no brother of hers to hang in my place."
"It will be interesting to see how you will rescue him."
"By telling the truth to Albemarle."
"He'll not believe it."
"I shall prove it," said Wilding quietly.
Trenchard swung round upon him in mingled anger and alarm for him. "You shall not do it!" he snarled. "It is nothing short of treason to the Duke to get yourself laid by the heels at such a time
as this."
"I hope to avoid it," answered Wilding confidently.
"Avoid it? How?"
"Not by staying longer here in talk. That will ruin all. Away with you, Trenchard!"
"By my soul, no!" answered Trenchard. "I'll not leave you. If I have got you into this, I'll help to get you out again, or stay in it with you."
"Bethink you of Monmouth?" Wilding admonished him.
"Damn Monmouth!" was the vicious answer. "I am here, and here I stay."
"Get to horse, you fool, and ride to Walford as you proposed, there to ambush the messenger. The letter will go to Whitehall nonetheless in spite of what I shall tell Albemarle. If things go
well with me, I shall join you at Vallancey's before long."
"Why, if that is your intention," said Trenchard, "I had better stay, and we can ride together. It will make it less uncertain for you."
"But less certain for you."
"The more reason why I should remain."
The door of the hall was suddenly flung open at the far end of the corridor, and Albemarle's booming voice, impatiently raised, reached them where they stood.
"In any case," added Trenchard, "it seems there is no help for it now."
Mr. Wilding shrugged his shoulders, but otherwise dissembled his vexation. Up the passage floated the constable's voice calling them.
Side by side they moved down, and side by side they stepped once more into the presence of Christopher Monk and his associates.
"Sirs, you have not been in haste," was the Duke's ill-humoured greeting.
"We have tarried a little that we might make an end the sooner," answered Trenchard dryly, and this was the first indication he gave Mr. Wilding of how naturally — like the inimitable
actor that he was — he had slipped into his new rôle.
Albemarle waved the frivolous rejoinder aside. "Come, Mr. Wilding," said he, "let us hear what you may have to say. You are not, I take it, about to urge any reasons why these rogues should not
be committed?"
"Indeed, Your Grace," said Wilding, "that is what I am about to urge."
Blake and Richard looked at him suddenly, and from him to Trenchard; but it was only Ruth whose eyes were shrewd enough to observe the altered demeanour of the latter. Her hopes rose, founded
upon this oddly assorted pair. Already in anticipation she was stirred by gratitude towards Wilding, and it was in impatient and almost wondering awe that she waited for him to proceed.
"I take it, sir," he said, without waiting for Albemarle to express any of the fresh astonishment his countenance manifested, "that the accusation against these gentlemen rests entirely upon the
letter, which you have been led to believe was addressed to Mr. Westmacott."
The Duke scowled a moment before replying. "Why," said he, "if it could be shown — irrefutably shown — that the letter was not addressed to either of them, that would no doubt
establish the truth of what they say — that they possessed themselves of the letter in the interests of His Majesty." He turned to Luttrell and Phelips, and they nodded their concurrence with
his view of the matter. "But," he continued, "if you are proposing to prove any such thing, I think you will find it difficult."
Mr. Wilding drew a crumpled paper from his pocket.
"When the courier whom they robbed, as they have correctly informed you," said he quietly, "suspected their design upon the contents of his wallet, he bethought him of removing the wrapper from
the letter, so that in case the letter were seized by them it should prove nothing against any man in particular. He stuffed the wrapper into the lining of his hat, preserving it as a proof of his
good faith against the time when he should bring the letter to its destination, or come to confess that it had been taken from him. That wrapper the courier brought to me, and I have it here. The
evidence it will give should be more than sufficient to warrant your restoring these unjustly accused gentlemen their liberty."
"The courier took it to you?" echoed Albemarle, stupefaction in his glance. "But why to you?"
"Because," said Wilding, and with his left hand he placed the wrapper before Albemarle, whilst his right dropped again to his pocket, "the letter, as you may see, was addressed to me."
The quiet manner in which he made the announcement conveyed almost as great a shock as the announcement itself.
Albemarle took up the wrapper; Luttrell and Phelips craned forward to join him in his scrutiny of it. They compared the two, paper with paper, writing with writing. Then Monk flung one and the
other down in front of him.
"What lies have I been hearing, then?" he demanded furiously of Trenchard. "'Slife I'll make an example of you. Arrest me that rogue — arrest them both," and he half rose from his seat,
his trembling hand pointing to Wilding and Trenchard.
Two of the tything-men stirred to do his bidding, but in the same instant Albemarle found himself looking into the round nozzle of a pistol.
"If," said Mr. Wilding, "a finger is laid upon Mr. Trenchard or me I shall have the extreme mortification of being compelled to shoot Your Grace."
His pleasantly modulated voice was as deliberate and calm as if he were offering the Bench a pinch of snuff. Albemarle's dark visage crimsoned; his eyes became at once wicked and afraid. Sir
Edward's cheeks turned pale, his glance grew startled. Luttrell alone, vigilant and dangerous, preserved his calm. But the situation baffled even him.
Behind the two friends the tything-men had come to a terror-stricken halt. Diana had risen from her chair in the excitement of the moment and had drawn close to Ruth, who looked on with parted
lips and bosom that rose and fell. Even Blake could not stifle his admiration of Mr. Wilding's coolness and address. Richard, on the other hand, was concerned only with thoughts for himself,
wondering how it would fare with him if Wilding and Trenchard succeeded in getting away.