Book 2 — Chapter XX

How Sir Hugh and Lady Katharine, with some Assistance from General Feversham, at last and finally overcame the Majesty of England

There was a sudden clamour in the great hall outside. My heart stopped beating. I halted with my left hand on the closed door. I released my wife and drew my sword again.

"If anything happens," I whispered to her, "do you go to the window, dearest Kate! I'll hold them in play until you leap, and if I can I'll follow you."

"I understand," she answered, her eyes shining with love for me and brave determination to die rather than yield to the King.

A gruff soldier's voice that I recognised said something I could not make out. The farther door at which Harkins had kept watch was suddenly thrown open. Through the closed door between the King's chamber and the anteroom where dead Stenwold lay I could hear confused noises, clashing of arms, many people entering hurriedly, then that deeper foreign voice, that I knew but could not place, commanded silence. The King had heard as well as I.

"'Tis Feversham," he exclaimed, leaping to his feet, his face changing. "We shall see now who wins."

As he spoke another harsher, rougher voice came through the door.

"And Jeffreys!" cried the delighted King. "Down on your knees, you dog," he roared. "He doth laugh best who laughs last. Madam, you did ill to trust yourself to this man."

I stood appalled for the moment at this sudden check to our plans.

"Gentlemen, to me," roared the King. There was a surge toward the door, which had been thrown open at the King's first shout for assistance, and in the instant the room was filled with men. But I was quicker than any. I stepped to the side of the King and dragged him back to the wall near the window before he himself or any one else could prevent. My wife followed me.

"Your Majesty," I said quickly, while the newcomers stood surprised beyond measure, "I have you covered, have a care what you do. My life is forfeit, but if I die, you die before me, dost understand?"

At that second Feversham and Jeffreys in the lead, the officers of the guard following, with the King's gentlemen and Stenwold's lackeys, all stepped toward me. The King and I stood together near the middle of the wall of the farther room, Lady Katharine alone near the window adjoining us.

"Back," cried the wretched King, desperately urged thereto by the pressure of that small pistol against his back.

"Your Majesty..." began Feversham, stopping short, and then he recognised me. "Richmond!" he exclaimed; "Lady Katharine Clanranald!"

"Katharine Richmond, sir," protested she, proud of her new name.

"You came in the very nick of time, Lord Feversham," said the King. "Sir Hugh Richmond is a traitor and an exile, he is an outlaw, he hath raised his hand against his King, as you see. Take him: We will decide upon his punishment later."

"Ay, Your Majesty, and if that be not enough, he tied me up, like a trussed fowl, threatened me with death, and left me two hours since with a dirty rag in my mouth. But for the chance arrival at the inn of Lord Feversham, who insisted upon seeing me when he heard I was there, I might have died of thirst or suffocation," roared out Jeffreys.

"He hath killed my Lord Stenwold," cried another.

"'Fore God, let's burn the dog, and——"

"Lord Feversham," cried my wife in swift interruption. "You served me well once in my need, hear me now. In violation of his honour, the King employed Lord Stenwold to bring me here against my will, to my shame, for His Majesty's foul purpose."

"Silence, wench," roared the King.

But I shoved my pistol harder into his side.

"Give the lady free speech," I said grimly, "and do not use that word again to my wife if you love life."

"And my husband came here in the nick of time to rescue me from His Majesty——"

"And to avenge you had I been too late," I added.

"What man of you would not do the same, for one he loved?" she cried, appealing to the rest. "You, Lord Feversham, are a French gentleman, one of the haute noblesse of your gallant land, an honourable soldier; what say you? Is my husband to be blamed for that? Is his life to be forfeit because he sought to protect me from this dishonoured King?"

Never had she been so royally beautiful herself as in that hour. I knew not till then how fortunate I had been in winning her to wife. I almost forgot our lives hung upon her word in admiration for her, but nevertheless I kept tight hold of the King.

Louis de Duras looked greatly troubled.

"Your Majesty," he said at last, "deny this for God's love, and for the sake of your kingly fame!"

"Why should I deny it?" snarled the King. "The woman is my subject, the daughter of one traitor, the wife of another—she ought to be honoured."

"It is ill done, Sire," said the soldier, shaking his head.

"The King can do no wrong," roared Judge Jeffreys.

"I should have left you where I found you by chance," said Feversham, looking contemptuously at the red-faced travesty of justice, "the soiled rag thrust within your lips consorts well with what falls from them now and ever."

"Lord Feversham," cried the King, as Jeffreys shrank away from the fierce gaze of the proud, brave soldier, "on your allegiance I command you to obey my order."

"One step nearer, General Feversham," cried I, tapping the King on the shoulder—he was as a child in my hands!—"and I blow His Majesty's brains out before you all."

"Would you murder your King?" cried Jeffreys.

"Ay, and die regretting that I had not a second shot for you."

Feversham stood uncertain. Jeffreys gnashed his teeth in baffled rage and terror.

"Good God, gentlemen!" protested the Lord Chief Justice, "is all the power of England in this vagabond's hands?"

How the situation might have terminated I cannot say. We had reached a position in which advance or retreat were alike impossible on either side. It was my bonny Kate who intervened again. God bless her woman's wit. It saved us both. She suddenly stepped past the Earl of Feversham toward me. The soldier bowed, but made as if he would interrupt her progress.

"Madam," he said, "I respect you, but I must guard as I may the person of the King; your husband alone sufficiently menaces him. What want you now?"

"Sir," said my wife, looking him full in the face, "I give you my word of honour, as the daughter of the Earl of Clanranald, as the wife of Sir Hugh Richmond, for we were married three days ago in Scotland, that I mean no harm to the King, although he hath threatened me with much. I only wish to take from the person of my husband, he being otherwise occupied and so unable to hand it to me, a paper and a seal for your inspection."

"Keep the woman back, Louis," began the King imploringly, but I thrust him savagely with the muzzle of my pistol and his voice died away.

"Madam, I take your word," said Feversham, bowing gallantly. "Pass on."

"By God!" exclaimed Jeffreys, "if you would let me deal with the woman, we'd have His Majesty freed from that knave in a moment. We could have held her as hostage, man."

The King looked gratefully, the General scornfully at Jeffreys, who certainly had spoken shrewdly if too late.

At that moment it repented me that I had not killed him when I had the chance. It was however now impossible to carry out his suggestion, even if Feversham had been so minded. My wife stood close to me and reached her hand into my breast pocket where I had thrust them, and drew forth the King's letter and the King's seal; in three steps she was by Feversham's side, showing by her approach a confidence in him that touched him evidently, and laid the paper in his open hand.

"What's this?" asked the General.

"Read, sir," answered Lady Katharine.

He stepped nearer the light and opened the document.

"'Tis a free passage and immunity for Sir Hugh Richmond and his wife, given without duress and signed by the King," he said.

"This ring, you know it?" continued my wife.

"The King's seal," answered Feversham.

"Your Majesty, did you issue this pass?"

"Yes," said the King, "but——"

"Pardon me, Your Majesty," said I, pressing him a little harder in the back, "you gave me the document of your own free will, did you not?"

"Yes, that is——" stammered the poor King, his face sweat-covered.

"There hath been no one here could put any compulsion upon Your Majesty, hath there?" I asked, ruthlessly pressing my advantage.

"No," he stammered out at last, "but I will revoke the pass."

"'Tis too late," said Feversham bluntly, "unless by a written order."

"And at this moment," said I grimly, "the King cannot write."

"Good God, Feversham!" began the King, but he got no further.

"This is monstrous!" cried my Lord Chief Justice.

Feversham fiercely turned on him as a dog upon a rat.

"This is a military matter," he roared. "Will you be silent? Sir Hugh Richmond, you and your wife by the King's written order are entitled to free passage; as loyal subjects of His Majesty, we respect his name and seal. Back, gentlemen. Way for Sir Hugh and Lady Richmond."

"Gentlemen," said I, "a word before we go. Lord Stenwold lies dead in yonder chamber, 'tis true, but it was in fair fight. I am this night for the Low Countries; if any friend of his wishes satisfaction and fancies himself aggrieved, I shall hold myself at his disposal in Holland, upon whatever terms he will."

"I shall see," said Feversham gravely, "that your courteous offer be communicated to whomsoever may desire to take up the late Lord Stenwold's quarrel."

"Thank you," said I. "We are indebted to you for much."

"A word before you go," said Feversham. "You know that I had no hand in bringing your wife back here."

"I never for a moment dreamed of it," I replied with a black glance at Jeffreys, who shrank away. "I know well whence the King's evil inspiration came."

"It grieves me," continued Feversham, "to call attention to the fact that if within two hours you are apprehended on English ground, your life, and I doubt not," he added significantly, "your wife's honour will be forfeited."

"I understand," said I. "Your Majesty," I turned and faced the King. I took off my hat and bowed low to him with ironic courtesy—indeed had he not sought to use me and mine so foully, I could have pitied him in his degradation and despair—"Good-night, again; you should sleep sweeter for the failure of your designs upon this lady. I trust that I may meet you upon some wider field than this narrow room, where the prize to be struggled for may not be a woman's honour, but a kingdom's rule."

I clapped my hat on my head, drew my wife's hand through my left arm and, with my bare blade in my right hand, I walked proudly through the door. The gentlemen and soldiers assembled silently gave back and opened way by General Feversham's directions as we passed through them. The King and Jeffreys both opened their mouths in wild clamour, but Feversham was equal to the emergency, he roared out like a stentor:

"The King and his Chief Justice would fain be alone, gentlemen. Let us leave the room immediately. Stand not upon the order of your going, sirs——"

And so bellowing orders and commands drowning out the sharp words of the King, he hustled all of them out into the anteroom, closed the door and himself stood guard before it. No one could pass then.

"For God's sake, make haste, Richmond!" he cried, as I looked back to catch one last glimpse of him splendidly barring the King's exit.

For the second time that night King James was a prisoner. I had no fear for Feversham, the best, the only commander worthy the name in the kingdom; he was a soldier; the King might hate him but he could do nothing, especially as any indignity to the Earl would probably cost him the favour of and might involve him in a war with France, which at that unsettled time would have been fatal to his kingship. He needed him.

At the door old Harkins waited; he had posted himself there, and there he intended to wait whatever came. His face was white enough under its tan. As I passed by he presented arms and looked intently at me.

"You are to come with me," I said, assuming an authority I did not have.

He followed me without a question. We marched rapidly down the long hall, only to be halted at the further end by the officer of the guard; but here another officer overtook us, having been despatched by Feversham, and ordered that we be given free passage.

The officer looked sharply at the sergeant but said nothing; fortunately he was but a young soldier, and I suppose he thought that Harkins was only discharging his duty by escorting me on my way. So the four of us marched down the stair, through the hall, across the courtyard and outside the gates. Here the officer halted.

"I would best see them safe across the drawbridge and down the road, sir," said Harkins gruffly.

"Very good; go on," said the officer indifferently, turning back.

In half a dozen steps we were over the drawbridge, and in another moment the three of us were running madly toward the river bank. Harkins' presence was invaluable now, for he knew a path to the water's edge. We fell rather than climbed down it in the darkness and stood knee-deep in the river.

"Macleod!" I cried anxiously.

"Here, your honour, and thank God," came to us out of the darkness, and presently guided by our voices, the prow of a comfortable wherry ran against the bank of the river.

I lifted Lady Katharine into the boat, clambered into the stern sheets myself and seized the tiller, while Harkins sat down forward of Macleod and finding another pair of oars broke them out, and the two men rowed us away from the castle toward the mouth of the river.

Evidently Clanranald's impatience had become so great that he could not remain at sea, for the vessel, with the three lights still twinkling like stars of hope in the blackness, had ventured into the river and was near at hand. I sat in the stern-sheets of the boat, Katharine was next to me, my arm about her, her head upon my shoulder.

The men rowed lustily and in half an hour we were at the ship's side, in five minutes more Katharine was clasped in Clanranald's arms, the wherry was turned adrift, the ship's head was cast off shore, the sails were sheeted home, and we bore away for Holland and Prince William's court—for happiness, for love, for freedom.

Ere we went below into the comfortable cabin to tell the Earl our story, I was stopped by dame Alison and Macleod.

"Lord Stenwold, sir?" asked the former.

"Dame Alison," said I, "he will kiss no more women this side of hell, for he lies dead in his own castle by my own hand."

"That is well done, sir," said Macleod heartily. "Thank you and good-night."

He touched his bonnet, turned and, followed by his wife, disappeared. Lady Katharine was standing in the light that broke from the cabin door looking toward me. I was very happy, very thankful. I took off my own hat in turn, looked up to the stars, and made a brief soldier's prayer before I followed her into the cabin.

"I thank Thee too, O Lord, and good-night!"

THE END