Peveril of the Peak Page 30

  CHAPTER XXX

  As for John Dryden's Charles, I own that King Was never any very mighty thing; And yet he was a devilish honest fellow-- Enjoy'd his friend and bottle, and got mellow. --DR. WOLOOT.

  London, the grand central point of intrigues of every description, hadnow attracted within its dark and shadowy region the greater number ofthe personages whom we have had occasion to mention.

  Julian Peveril, amongst others of the _dramatis personae_, had arrived,and taken up his abode in a remote inn in the suburbs. His business, heconceived, was to remain incognito until he should have communicated inprivate with the friends who were most likely to lend assistance tohis parents, as well as to his patroness, in their present situationof doubt and danger. Amongst these, the most powerful was the Duke ofOrmond, whose faithful services, high rank, and acknowledged worth andvirtue, still preserved an ascendancy in that very Court, where, ingeneral, he was regarded as out of favour. Indeed, so much consciousnessdid Charles display in his demeanour towards that celebrated noble, andservant of his father, that Buckingham once took the freedom to ask theKing whether the Duke of Ormond had lost his Majesty's favour, or hisMajesty the Duke's? since, whenever they chanced to meet, the Kingappeared the more embarrassed of the two. But it was not Peveril'sgood fortune to obtain the advice or countenance of this distinguishedperson. His Grace of Ormond was not at that time in London.

  The letter, about the delivery of which the Countess had seemed mostanxious after that to the Duke of Ormond, was addressed to CaptainBarstow (a Jesuit, whose real name was Fenwicke), to be found, or atleast to be heard of, in the house of one Martin Christal in the Savoy.To this place hastened Peveril, upon learning the absence of the Duke ofOrmond. He was not ignorant of the danger which he personally incurred,by thus becoming a medium of communication betwixt a Popish priest and asuspected Catholic. But when he undertook the perilous commission of hispatroness, he had done so frankly, and with the unreserved resolutionof serving her in the manner in which she most desired her affairs tobe conducted. Yet he could not forbear some secret apprehension, when hefelt himself engaged in the labyrinth of passages and galleries, whichled to different obscure sets of apartments in the ancient buildingtermed the Savoy.

  This antiquated and almost ruinous pile occupied a part of the site ofthe public offices in the Strand, commonly called Somerset House. TheSavoy had been formerly a palace, and took its name from an Earl ofSavoy, by whom it was founded. It had been the habitation of John ofGaunt, and various persons of distinction--had become a convent, anhospital, and finally, in Charles II.'s time, a waste of dilapidatedbuildings and ruinous apartments, inhabited chiefly by those who hadsome connection with, or dependence upon, the neighbouring palace ofSomerset House, which, more fortunate than the Savoy, had stillretained its royal title, and was the abode of a part of the Court, andoccasionally of the King himself, who had apartments there.

  It was not without several inquiries, and more than one mistake, that,at the end of a long and dusky passage, composed of boards so wasted bytime that they threatened to give way under his feet, Julian atlength found the name of Martin Christal, broker and appraiser, upon ashattered door. He was about to knock, when some one pulled his cloak;and looking round, to his great astonishment, which indeed almostamounted to fear, he saw the little mute damsel, who had accompanied himfor a part of the way on his voyage from the Isle of Man.

  "Fenella!" he exclaimed, forgetting that she could neither hear norreply,--"Fenella! Can this be you?"

  Fenella, assuming the air of warning and authority, which she hadheretofore endeavoured to adopt towards him, interposed betwixt Julianand the door at which he was about to knock--pointed with her fingertowards it in a prohibiting manner, and at the same time bent her brows,and shook her head sternly.

  After a moment's consideration, Julian could place but oneinterpretation upon Fenella's appearance and conduct, and that was, bysupposing her lady had come up to London, and had despatched this muteattendant, as a confidential person, to apprise him of some change ofher intended operations, which might render the delivery of her lettersto Barstow, _alias_ Fenwicke, superfluous, or perhaps dangerous. He madesigns to Fenella, demanding to know whether she had any commission fromthe Countess. She nodded. "Had she any letter?" he continued, by thesame mode of inquiry. She shook her head impatiently, and, walkinghastily along the passage, made a signal to him to follow. He didso, having little doubt that he was about to be conducted into theCountess's presence; but his surprise, at first excited by Fenella'sappearance, was increased by the rapidity and ease with which she seemedto track the dusky and decayed mazes of the dilapidated Savoy, equal tothat with which he had seen her formerly lead the way through the gloomyvaults of Castle Rushin, in the Isle of Man.

  When he recollected, however, that Fenella had accompanied the Countesson a long visit to London, it appeared not improbable that she mightthen have acquired this local knowledge which seemed so accurate. Manyforeigners, dependent on Queen or Queen Dowager, had apartments in theSavoy. Many Catholic priests also found refuge in its recesses, undervarious disguises, and in defiance of the severity of the laws againstPopery. What was more likely than that the Countess of Derby, a Catholicand a Frenchwoman, should have had secret commissions amongst suchpeople; and that the execution of such should be entrusted, at leastoccasionally, to Fenella?

  Thus reflecting, Julian continued to follow her light and activefootsteps as she glided from the Strand to Spring-Garden, and thenceinto the Park.

  It was still early in the morning, and the Mall was untenanted, save bya few walkers, who frequented these shades for the wholesome purposes ofair and exercise. Splendour, gaiety, and display, did not come forth, atthat period, until noon was approaching. All readers have heard that thewhole space where the Horse Guards are now built, made, in the time ofCharles II., a part of St. James's Park; and that the old building,now called the Treasury, was a part of the ancient Palace of Whitehall,which was thus immediately connected with the Park. The canal had beenconstructed, by the celebrated Le Notre, for the purpose of drainingthe Park; and it communicated with the Thames by a decoy, stocked with aquantity of the rarer waterfowl. It was towards this decoy that Fenellabent her way with unabated speed; and they were approaching a group oftwo or three gentlemen, who sauntered by its banks, when, on lookingclosely at him who appeared to be the chief of the party, Julian felthis heart beat uncommonly thick, as if conscious of approaching some oneof the highest consequence.

  The person whom he looked upon was past the middle age of life, ofa dark complexion, corresponding with the long, black, full-bottomedperiwig, which he wore instead of his own hair. His dress was plainblack velvet, with a diamond star, however, on his cloak, which hungcarelessly over one shoulder. His features, strongly lined, even toharshness, had yet an expression of dignified good-humour; he was welland strongly built, walked upright and yet easily, and had upon thewhole the air of a person of the highest consideration. He kept ratherin advance of his companions, but turned and spoke to them, from time totime, with much affability, and probably with some liveliness, judgingby the smiles, and sometimes the scarce restrained laughter, by whichsome of his sallies were received by his attendants. They also wore onlymorning dresses; but their looks and manner were those of men of rank,in presence of one in station still more elevated. They shared theattention of their principal in common with seven or eight little blackcurly-haired spaniels, or rather, as they are now called, cockers, whichattended their master as closely, and perhaps with as deep sentiments ofattachment, as the bipeds of the group; and whose gambols, which seemedto afford him much amusement, he sometimes checked, and sometimesencouraged. In addition to this pastime, a lackey, or groom, was alsoin attendance, with one or two little baskets and bags, from which thegentleman we have described took, from time to time, a handful of seeds,and amused himself with throwing them to the waterfowl.

&
nbsp; This the King's favourite occupation, together with his remarkablecountenance, and the deportment of the rest of the company towards him,satisfied Julian Peveril that he was approaching, perhaps indecorously,near the person of Charles Stewart, the second of that unhappy name.

  While he hesitated to follow his dumb guide any nearer, and felt theembarrassment of being unable to communicate to her his repugnance tofurther intrusion, a person in the royal retinue touched a light andlively air on the flageolet, at a signal from the King, who desiredto have some tune repeated which had struck him in the theatre on thepreceding evening. While the good-natured monarch marked time with hisfoot, and with the motion of his hand, Fenella continued to approachhim, and threw into her manner the appearance of one who was attracted,as it were in spite of herself, by the sounds of the instrument.

  Anxious to know how this was to end, and astonished to see the dumb girlimitate so accurately the manner of one who actually heard the musicalnotes, Peveril also drew near, though at somewhat greater distance.

  The King looked good-humouredly at both, as if he admitted their musicalenthusiasm as an excuse for their intrusion; but his eyes became rivetedon Fenella, whose face and appearance, although rather singular thanbeautiful, had something in them wild, fantastic, and, as being so, evencaptivating, to an eye which had been gratified perhaps to satiety withthe ordinary forms of female beauty. She did not appear to noticehow closely she was observed; but, as if acting under an irresistibleimpulse, derived from the sounds to which she seemed to listen, sheundid the bodkin round which her long tresses were winded, and flingingthem suddenly over her slender person, as if using them as a naturalveil, she began to dance, with infinite grace and agility, to the tunewhich the flageolet played.

  Peveril lost almost his sense of the King's presence, when he observedwith what wonderful grace and agility Fenella kept time to notes, whichcould only be known to her by the motions of the musician's fingers.He had heard, indeed, among other prodigies, of a person in Fenella'sunhappy situation acquiring, by some unaccountable and mysterioustact, the power of acting as an instrumental musician, nay, becoming soaccurate a performer as to be capable of leading a musical band; and healso heard of deaf and dumb persons dancing with sufficient accuracy, byobserving the motions of their partner. But Fenella's performance seemedmore wonderful than either, since the musician was guided by his writtennotes, and the dancer by the motions of the others; whereas Fenella hadno intimation, save what she seemed to gather, with infinite accuracy,by observing the motion of the artist's fingers on his small instrument.

  As for the King, who was ignorant of the particular circumstances whichrendered Fenella's performance almost marvellous, he was contented, ather first commencement, to authorise what seemed to him the frolicof this singular-looking damsel, by a good-natured smile, but when heperceived the exquisite truth and justice, as well as the wonderfulcombination of grace and agility, with which she executed to thisfavourite air a dance which was perfectly new to him, Charles turnedhis mere acquiescence into something like enthusiastic applause. He boretime to her motions with the movement of his foot--applauded with headand with hand--and seemed, like herself, carried away by the enthusiasmof the gestic art.

  After a rapid yet graceful succession of _entrechats_, Fenellaintroduced a slow movement, which terminated the dance; then droppinga profound courtesy, she continued to stand motionless before the King,her arms folded on her bosom, her head stooped, and her eyes cast down,after the manner of an Oriental slave; while through the misty veil ofher shadowy locks, it might be observed, that the colour which exercisehad called to her cheeks was dying fast away, and resigning them totheir native dusky hue.

  "By my honour," exclaimed the King, "she is like a fairy who trips itin moonlight. There must be more of air and fire than of earth in hercomposition. It is well poor Nelly Gwyn saw her not, or she would havedied of grief and envy. Come, gentlemen, which of you contrived thispretty piece of morning pastime?"

  The courtiers looked at each other, but none of them felt authorised toclaim the merit of a service so agreeable.

  "We must ask the quick-eyed nymph herself then," said the King; and,looking at Fenella, he added, "Tell us, my pretty one, to whom we owethe pleasure of seeing you?--I suspect the Duke of Buckingham; for thisis exactly a _tour de son metier_."

  Fenella, on observing that the King addressed her, bowed low, and shookher head, in signal that she did not understand what he said. "Oddsfish,that is true," said the King; "she must perforce be a foreigner--hercomplexion and agility speak it. France or Italy has had the moulding ofthose elastic limbs, dark cheek, and eye of fire." He then put to her inFrench, and again in Italian, the question, "By whom she had been senthither?"

  At the second repetition, Fenella threw back her veiling tresses, so asto show the melancholy which sat on her brow; while she sadly shook herhead, and intimated by imperfect muttering, but of the softest and mostplaintive kind, her organic deficiency.

  "Is it possible Nature can have made such a fault?" said Charles. "Canshe have left so curious a piece as thou art without the melody ofvoice, whilst she has made thee so exquisitely sensible to the beauty ofsound?--Stay: what means this? and what young fellow are you bringingup there? Oh, the master of the show, I suppose.--Friend," he added,addressing himself to Peveril, who, on the signal of Fenella, steppedforward almost instinctively, and kneeled down, "we thank thee for thepleasure of this morning.--My Lord Marquis, you rooked me at piquet lastnight; for which disloyal deed thou shalt now atone, by giving a coupleof pieces to this honest youth, and five to the girl."

  As the nobleman drew out his purse and came forward to perform theKing's generous commission, Julian felt some embarrassment ere he wasable to explain, that he had not title to be benefited by the youngperson's performance, and that his Majesty had mistaken his character.

  "And who art thou, then, my friend?" said Charles; "but, above all, andparticularly, who is this dancing nymph, whom thou standest waiting onlike an attendant fawn?"

  "The young person is a retainer of the Countess-Dowager of Derby, soplease your Majesty," said Peveril, in a low tone of voice; "and Iam----"

  "Hold, hold," said the King; "this is a dance to another tune, and notfit for a place so public. Hark thee, friend; do thou and the youngwoman follow Empson where he will conduct thee.--Empson, carrythem--hark in thy ear."

  "May it please your Majesty, I ought to say," said Peveril, "that I amguiltless of any purpose of intrusion----"

  "Now a plague on him who can take no hint," said the King, cuttingshort his apology. "Oddsfish, man, there are times when civility is thegreatest impertinence in the world. Do thou follow Empson, and amusethyself for a half-hour's space with the fairy's company, till we shallsend for you."

  Charles spoke this not without casting an anxious eye around, and in atone which intimated apprehension of being overheard. Julian could onlybow obedience, and follow Empson, who was the same person that played sorarely on the flageolet.

  When they were out of sight of the King and his party, the musicianwished to enter into conversation with his companions, and addressedhimself first to Fenella with a broad compliment of, "By the mass, yedance rarely--ne'er a slut on the boards shows such a shank! I would becontent to play to you till my throat were as dry as my whistle. Come,be a little free--old Rowley will not quit the Park till nine. I willcarry you to Spring-Garden, and bestow sweet-cakes and a quart ofRhenish on both of you; and we'll be cameradoes,--What the devil? noanswer?--How's this, brother?--Is this neat wench of yours deaf ordumb or both? I should laugh at that, and she trip it so well to theflageolet."

  To rid himself of this fellow's discourse, Peveril answered him inFrench, that he was a foreigner, and spoke no English; glad to escape,though at the expense of a fiction, from the additional embarrassment ofa fool, who was likely to ask more questions than his own wisdom mighthave enabled him to answer.

  "_Etranger_--that means stranger," muttered their guide; "more Frenchdo
gs and jades come to lick the good English butter of our bread, orperhaps an Italian puppet-show. Well if it were not that they have amortal enmity to the whole _gamut_, this were enough to make any honestfellow turn Puritan. But if I am to play to her at the Duchess's, I'llbe d--d but I put her out in the tune, just to teach her to have theimpudence to come to England, and to speak no English."

  Having muttered to himself this truly British resolution, the musicianwalked briskly on towards a large house near the bottom of St. James'sStreet, and entered the court, by a grated door from the Park, of whichthe mansion commanded an extensive prospect.

  Peveril finding himself in front of a handsome portico, under whichopened a stately pair of folding-doors, was about to ascend the stepsthat led to the main entrance, when his guide seized him by the arm,exclaiming. "Hold, Mounseer! What! you'll lose nothing, I see, for wantof courage; but you must keep the back way, for all your fine doublet.Here it is not, knock, and it shall be opened; but may be instead, knockand you shall be knocked."

  Suffering himself to be guided by Empson, Julian deviated from theprincipal door, to one which opened, with less ostentation, in an angleof the courtyard. On a modest tap from the flute-player, admittance wasafforded him and his companions by a footman, who conducted them througha variety of stone passages, to a very handsome summer parlour, where alady, or something resembling one, dressed in a style of extra elegance,was trifling with a play-book while she finished her chocolate. It wouldnot be easy to describe her, but by weighing her natural good qualitiesagainst the affectations which counterbalanced them. She would have beenhandsome, but for rouge and _minauderie_--would have been civil, butfor overstrained airs of patronage and condescension--would have had anagreeable voice, had she spoken in her natural tone--and fine eyes, hadshe not made such desperate hard use of them. She could only spoil apretty ankle by too liberal display; but her shape, though she couldnot yet be thirty years old, had the embon-point which might have suitedbetter with ten years more advanced. She pointed Empson to a seat withthe air of a Duchess, and asked him, languidly, how he did this age,that she had not seen him? and what folks these were he had brought withhim?

  "Foreigners, madam; d--d foreigners," answered Empson; "starvingbeggars, that our old friend has picked up in the Park this morning--thewench dances, and the fellow plays on the Jew's trump, I believe. On mylife, madam, I begin to be ashamed of old Rowley; I must discard him,unless he keeps better company in future."

  "Fie, Empson," said the lady; "consider it is our duty to countenancehim, and keep him afloat; and indeed I always make a principle of it.Hark ye, he comes not hither this morning?"

  "He will be here," answered Empson, "in the walking of a minuet."

  "My God!" exclaimed the lady, with unaffected alarm; and starting upwith utter neglect of her usual and graceful languor, she tripped asswiftly as a milk-maid into an adjoining apartment, where they heardpresently a few words of eager and animated discussion.

  "Something to be put out of the way, I suppose," said Empson. "Well formadam I gave her the hint. There he goes, the happy swain."

  Julian was so situated, that he could, from the same casement throughwhich Empson was peeping, observe a man in a laced roquelaure, andcarrying his rapier under his arm, glide from the door by which he hadhimself entered, and out of the court, keeping as much as possible underthe shade of the buildings.

  The lady re-entered at this moment, and observing how Empson's eyes weredirected, said with a slight appearance of hurry, "A gentleman of theDuchess of Portsmouth's with a billet; and so tiresomely pressing foran answer, that I was obliged to write without my diamond pen. I havedaubed my fingers, I dare say," she added, looking at a very prettyhand, and presently after dipping her fingers in a little silver vase ofrose-water. "But that little exotic monster of yours, Empson, I hope shereally understands no English?--On my life she coloured.--Is she sucha rare dancer?--I must see her dance, and hear him play on the Jew'sharp."

  "Dance!" replied Empson; "she danced well enough when _I_ played to her.I can make anything dance. Old Counsellor Clubfoot danced when he hada fit of the gout; you have seen no such _pas seul_ in the theatre. Iwould engage to make the Archbishop of Canterbury dance the hays like aFrenchman. There is nothing in dancing; it all lies in the music. Rowleydoes not know that now. He saw this poor wench dance; and thought somuch on't, when it was all along of me. I would have defied her to sitstill. And Rowley gives her the credit of it, and five pieces to boot;and I have only two for my morning's work!"

  "True, Master Empson," said the lady; "but you are of the family, thoughin a lower station; and you ought to consider----"

  "By G--, madam," answered Empson, "all I consider is, that I play thebest flageolet in England; and that they can no more supply my place, ifthey were to discard me, than they could fill Thames from Fleet-Ditch."

  "Well, Master Empson, I do not dispute but you are a man of talents,"replied the lady; "still, I say, mind the main chance--you please theear to-day--another has the advantage of you to-morrow."

  "Never, mistress, while ears have the heavenly power of distinguishingone note from another."

  "Heavenly power, say you, Master Empson?" said the lady.

  "Ay, madam, heavenly; for some very neat verses which we had at ourfestival say,

  'What know we of the blest above, But that they sing and that they love?'

  It is Master Waller wrote them, as I think; who, upon my word, ought tobe encouraged."

  "And so should you, my dear Empson," said the dame, yawning, "were itonly for the honour you do to your own profession. But in the meantime,will you ask these people to have some refreshment?--and will you takesome yourself?--the chocolate is that which the Ambassador Portuguesefellow brought over to the Queen."

  "If it be genuine," said the musician.

  "How, sir?" said the fair one, half rising from her pile ofcushions--"Not genuine, and in this house!--Let me understand you,Master Empson--I think, when I first saw you, you scarce knew chocolatefrom coffee."

  "By G--, madam," answered the flageolet-player, "you are perfectlyright. And how can I show better how much I have profited by yourladyship's excellent cheer, except by being critical?"

  "You stand excused, Master Empson," said the _petite maitresse_, sinkinggently back on the downy couch, from which a momentary irritation hadstartled her--"I think the chocolate will please you, though scarceequal to what we had from the Spanish resident Mendoza.--But we mustoffer these strange people something. Will you ask them if they wouldhave coffee and chocolate, or cold wild-fowl, fruit, and wine? They mustbe treated, so as to show them where they are, since here they are."

  "Unquestionably, madam," said Empson; "but I have just at thisinstant forgot the French for chocolate, hot bread, coffee, game, anddrinkables."

  "It is odd," said the lady; "and I have forgot my French and Italian atthe same moment. But it signifies little--I will order the things to bebrought, and they will remember the names of them themselves."

  Empson laughed loudly at this jest, and pawned his soul that thecold sirloin which entered immediately after, was the best emblem ofroast-beef all the world over. Plentiful refreshments were offered toall the party, of which both Fenella and Peveril partook.

  In the meanwhile, the flageolet-player drew closer to the side of thelady of the mansion--their intimacy was cemented, and their spirits setafloat, by a glass of liqueur, which gave them additional confidencein discussing the characters, as well of the superior attendants ofthe Court, as of the inferior rank, to which they themselves might besupposed to belong.

  The lady, indeed, during this conversation, frequently exerted hercomplete and absolute superiority over Master Empson; in which thatmusical gentleman humbly acquiesced whenever the circumstance wasrecalled to his attention, whether in the way of blunt contradiction,sarcastic insinuation, downright assumption of higher importance, orin any of the other various modes by which such superiority is usuallyasserted and maintained. But the lady's
obvious love of scandal wasthe lure which very soon brought her again down from the dignified partwhich for a moment she assumed, and placed her once more on a gossipinglevel with her companion.

  Their conversation was too trivial, and too much allied to petty Courtintrigues, with which he was totally unacquainted, to be in the leastinteresting to Julian. As it continued for more than an hour, hesoon ceased to pay the least attention to a discourse consisting ofnicknames, patchwork, and innuendo; and employed himself in reflectingon his own complicated affairs, and the probable issue of hisapproaching audience with the King, which had been brought about by sosingular an agent, and by means so unexpected. He often looked to hisguide, Fenella; and observed that she was, for the greater part ofthe time, drowned in deep and abstracted meditation. But three or fourtimes--and it was when the assumed airs and affected importance ofthe musician and their hostess rose to the most extravagant excess--heobserved that Fenella dealt askance on them some of those bitter andalmost blighting elfin looks, which in the Isle of Man were held toimply contemptuous execration. There was something in all her manner soextraordinary, joined to her sudden appearance, and her demeanour inthe King's presence, so oddly, yet so well contrived to procure hima private audience--which he might, by graver means, have soughtin vain--that it almost justified the idea, though he smiled at itinternally, that the little mute agent was aided in her machinations bythe kindred imps, to whom, according to Manx superstition, her genealogywas to be traced.

  Another idea sometimes occurred to Julian, though he rejected thequestion, as being equally wild with those doubts which referred Fenellato a race different from that of mortals--"Was she really afflicted withthose organical imperfections which had always seemed to sever her fromhumanity?--If not, what could be the motives of so young a creaturepractising so dreadful a penance for such an unremitted term of years?And how formidable must be the strength of mind which could condemnitself to so terrific a sacrifice--How deep and strong the purpose forwhich it was undertaken!"

  But a brief recollection of past events enabled him to dismiss thisconjecture as altogether wild and visionary. He had but to call tomemory the various stratagems practised by his light-hearted companion,the young Earl of Derby, upon this forlorn girl--the conversations heldin her presence, in which the character of a creature so irritable andsensitive upon all occasions, was freely, and sometimes satiricallydiscussed, without her expressing the least acquaintance with what wasgoing forward, to convince him that so deep a deception could neverhave been practised for so many years, by a being of a turn of mind sopeculiarly jealous and irascible.

  He renounced, therefore, the idea, and turned his thoughts to his ownaffairs, and his approaching interview with his Sovereign; in whichmeditation we propose to leave him, until we briefly review the changeswhich had taken place in the situation of Alice Bridgenorth.