Oddsfish!. Robert Hugh BensonЧитать онлайн книгу.
always in Charles that was not in James; for the Duke said nothing as to his receiving me here in his déshabille, but began immediately to talk in a low voice.
"I am pleased that you are come to England, Mr. Mallock. I have had news of you from Rome."
Then he asked very properly of the Holy Father, and of a Cardinal or two that he knew; and I answered him as well as I could. But I very soon saw that His Royal Highness wanted nothing like wit from me: he was somewhat of a solemn man, and had great ideas of his rights, and that all men who were below his own station should keep their own. He desired deference and attention above all things.
He spoke presently of Catholics in England.
"God hath blest us very highly," he said, "both in numbers and influence. But we can well do with more of both; for I never heard of any cause that could not. There is a feeling against us in many quarters, but it is less considerable every year. You are to attach yourself to His Majesty, I understand?"
"But I am to have no place or office, sir," I said. "I am rather to be at His Majesty's disposal—to fetch and carry, I may say, if he should need my services."
His Highness looked at me sidelong and swiftly; and I understood that he did not wish any originality even in speech.
"We must all be discreet, however," he said—(though I suppose there was never any man less discreet than himself, especially when he most needed to be so). "It is useless to say that we are altogether loved; for we are not. But you will soon acquaint yourself with all our politics."
I did not say that I had already done so; but assured him that I would do my best.
"As a general guide, I may say," he went on; "where there is Whiggery, there is disloyalty, however much the Whigs may protest. They say they desire a king as much as any; but it is not a king that they want, but his shadow only."
He talked on in this manner for a little, for we had the Gallery to ourselves, telling me, what I knew very well already, that the Catholics and the High Churchmen were, as a whole, staunch Royalists; but that the rest, especially those of the old Covenanting blood, still were capable of mischief. He did not tell me outright that it was largely against his own succession that the disaffection was directed; nor that the Duke of Monmouth was his rival; but he told me enough to show that my own information was correct enough, and that in the political matters my weight, such as it was, must be thrown on to the side of the Tories—as the other party was nicknamed. I understood, even in that first conversation with him, why he was so little loved; and I remembered, with inward mirth, how His Majesty once, upon being remonstrated with by his brother for walking out so freely without a guard, answered that he need have no fears; for "they will never kill me," said he, "to set you upon the throne."
"You have seen Father Whitbread, no doubt," said the Duke suddenly.
"No, sir. I waited to pay my homage first to His Majesty and to yourself."
He nodded once or twice at that.
"Yes, yes; but you will see him presently, I take it. You could not have a better guide. Why—"
He broke off on a sudden.
"Why here is the man himself," he said.
A man in a sober suit was indeed approaching, as His Highness spoke. He was of about the middle-size, clean-shaven, of grave and kindly face, and resembled such a man as a lawyer or physician might be. He was dressed in all points like a layman, though I suppose it was tolerably well known what he was, if not his name.
He saluted as he came near, and made as if he would have passed us.
"Mr. Whitbread! Mr. Whitbread!" cried the Duke.
The priest turned and bowed again, uncovering as he did so. Then he came up to the Duke and kissed his hand.
"I was on my way to see your Royal Highness," he said, "but when I saw you were in company—"
"Why, this is Mr. Mallock, come from Rome, who has letters to you. This will save you a journey, Mallock."
The priest and I saluted one another; and I found his face and manner very pleasant.
"I have heard of you, Mr. Mallock," he said, "but I hope His Highness is misinformed, and that this will not save you a journey, after all."
"I was just telling this gentleman," broke in the Duke, as we continued our walking, "that he must take you for his mentor, Dr. Whitbread, in these difficult times. Mr. Mallock seems very young for his business, but I suppose that the Holy Father knows what he is about."
"The Holy Father, sir," I said, "has committed himself in no sort of way to me. I am scarcely more than a free-lance who has had his blessing."
"Well, well; it is all the same thing," said James a little impatiently.
"Free-lance or drilled soldier—they fight for the same cause."
He continued to talk in the same manner for a little, as if for my instruction; and I listened with all the meekness I had. He did not tell me one word which I did not already know; but I had perceived by now what kind of man he was—well intentioned, no doubt, as courageous as a lion, and as impatient of opposition, and not a little stupid: at least he had not a tenth of his brother's wits, as all the world knew. He solemnly informed me therefore of what all the world knew, and I listened to him.
When he dismissed me at last, however, he remembered to ask where I lodged, and I told him.
"A very good place too," he said. "I am glad your cousin had the sense to put you there. Then I will remember you, if I need you for anything."
"I will go with Mr. Mallock," said the priest, "if Your Royal Highness will permit. I came but to pay my respects; and it is a little late."
The Duke nodded; and gave us his hand to kiss.
As we went out through the Courtyard, Father Whitbread pointed out a few things to me which be thought might be of interest; and I liked the man more at every step. He was a complete man of the world, with a certain gentle irony, yet none the less kindly for it. He did not say one disparaging word of anyone, nor any hint of criticism at His Royal Highness; yet he knew, and I knew that he knew, and he knew that again, that our Catholic champion was a shade disappointing; and that, not in his vices only—of which my Lady Southesk could have given an account—but in that which I am forced to call his stupidity. But, after all, our Saviour uttered a judgment generally as to the children of light and the children of this world, that must always be our consolation when our friends are dull or perverse. Father Whitbread only observed emphatically that the Duke was a man of excellent heart.
He showed me the windows of a number of lodgings on the way, and the direction of a great many more: for indeed this Palace of Whitehall was liker a little town than a house. Father Patricks, he said, had a lodging near the Pantry, which he shewed me.
"There be some of us priests who have an affinity, do you not think, Mr. Mallock? with pantries and butteries and such like—good sound men too, many of them. I have not a word to say against Mr. Patricks."
He shewed me too how the Palace was in four quarters, of which two were divided from two by Whitehall itself and the street between the gatehouses. That half of it that was nearer to the Park held the tennis-court and the cock-pit and the lodgings of the Duke of Monmouth and others nearer Westminster, and the other half the Horse Guards and the barracks: and that nearer the river held, to the south the Stone Gallery, the Privy Garden, the Bowling Green and a great number of lodgings amongst which were those of the King and of his brother and Prince Rupert, and of the Queen too, as well as of their more immediate attendants—and this part contained what was left of the old York House; to the north was another court surrounded by lodgings, the Wood-Yard, the two courts called Scotland Yard, and the clock-house at the extremity, nearest Charing Cross. In the very midst of the whole Palace, looking upon Whitehall itself, was the Banqueting House where His Majesty dined in state, and from a window of which King Charles the First, of blessed memory, went out to lose his head. Indeed as we went by the end of the