“And they will fail in effect, my liege, because her heart is hardened, and she is blind to her sinfulness,” said the priest. “She would rather sacrifice her brother than help to re-establish our religion.”
“Trust me, my liege, Father Norman has formed a just estimate of the queen’s character,” said Lord Derwentwater. “‘Tis vain to appeal to good feelings, where none exist.”
“But I do not believe she is so utterly devoid of natural affection as her conduct would seem to bespeak,” said the prince. “You shall judge from what I am about to tell you. I have solicited a private interview with her in Saint James’s Palace, and she has granted my request.”
“Granted it!” exclaimed Lord Derwentwater in astonishment, that was shared by the others.
“Ay,” replied the prince. “My letter was conveyed by a faithful friend, and the answer to it was that her majesty would see me. Nothing more. But that was all I asked. She felt compunction for her ill-doing, or she would have refused my request.”
“But how will you obtain admittance to her, my liege?” asked Lord Derwentwater.
“Easily,” replied the prince. “The Earl of Mar will usher me into her presence.”
“This certainly seems favourable, and alters my view of the matter,” said the earl. “Yet it may be a device of Harley to ensnare your majesty. Are you certain that your letter reached the queen?”
“My emissary would not deceive me,” replied the prince. “He is as loyal as yourself.”
“If I may speak plainly to your majesty,” remarked Charles Radclyffe, “I would say that I have still great doubts. The queen may delude you with false hopes, to keep you quiet.”
“Nay, she will keep her promise if she makes it. Of that I am convinced,” said Father Norman.
At this juncture the butler entered to say that luncheon was served, upon which the earl conducted his guest to the dining-room, where a very substantial repast awaited them.
The Chevalier de Saint George had not breakfasted, and his early morning’s ride having given him a good appetite, he did ample justice to the broiled trout from the Devil’s Water, and the cutlets of Tyne salmon set before him.
As the servants were present during the repast, he was treated merely as an ordinary visitor, and the conversation between him and the earl was conducted entirely in French.
This circumstance excited the suspicion of Mr. Newbiggin, the butler, who from the first had been struck by the stranger’s appearance and manner, and he soon became convinced that Mr. Johnson, as the prince was called, was a very important personage.
On quitting the dining-room, the butler found the earl’s chief valet in the entrance-hall, and said to him:
“I can’t make out this Mr. Johnson, Thirlwall. I should like to know what you think of him?”
“I’m puzzled, I own,” replied the other. “He seems to me like a Frenchman.”
“No more a Frenchman than his lordship is, Thirlwall. But I shouldn’t wonder,” said the butler, knowingly, “if he has been brought up at a French court.”
“At the Court of Saint Germains?” cried Thirlwall.
“Precisely,” said the butler.
“Why, you seem to insinuate that it’s the Chevalier de Saint George in person, Newbiggin.”
“I’ve my own idea on that point, Thirlwall,” said the butler. “If it should turn out as I suspect, we’re on the eve of an insurrection. The prince wouldn’t come here on a trifling errand. But keep quiet for the present-this is mere conjecture.”
The butler then returned to the dining-room, while Mr. Thirlwall hurried to the servants’ hall, where he retailed all he had just heard, with some additions of his own.
In less than half an hour it was known among the whole household that his majesty, King James the Third, had arrived, in disguise, at the castle.
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III
Nicholas Ribbleton
IF any confirmation were wanted of the suspicions now generally entertained by Mr. Newbiggin and the rest of the servants that a rising was imminent, it was afforded by the earl, who took his guest, as soon as luncheon was over, to see the arms stored in the old tower.