POOR Lady Betty, half distracted, fled from the house into Leicester Fields, trying to find the party that had preceded her with her husband as a prisoner. The darkness and the peril1 of the London streets at that late hour did not enter her thoughts. Bareheaded and without a cloak to shield her from the cold night air, she ran around the square.
She saw lights in the adjacent houses, she heard voices in the distance, but she only looked for one—her husband. She took no thought of the madness of her project; she sped on and on, and might have come into some great peril had she not fallen almost into the arms of a man who was running toward Lord Sunderland’s mansion2. They came upon each other in the darkness; in her grief and nervousness she uttered a little cry, and he knew her voice.
[Pg 246]“Lady Clancarty!” he exclaimed, stopping short.
It was young Mackie.
At first she did not recognize him, but when she did, she caught his arm with a frantic3 appeal. The light from a dim lantern overhead shone on her white face.
“My husband!” she cried, “my Lord Clancarty. They have dragged him away to prison. My—nay, I will not call him my brother—that man yonder, Charles Spencer, betrayed him—betrayed my husband, and they came into my very rooms to arrest him—to tear us apart, and he has gone,” she added wildly, “gone to the Tower.”
“I know,” he replied, deeply moved, “I know. I was at Vernon’s house and heard it after your—after Lord Spencer got the warrant. I came to warn you but, alas4, I am too late.”
“Yes, too late!” cried Betty, a little wildly, “too late; but I am going to the Tower—I am going to my husband!”
They had walked on a little way as they talked, and were so near Aylesbury House that the lights from within fell on her. He saw her uncovered head and dazzling gown.
“Lady Clancarty,” he said persuasively5, “let[Pg 247] us go back for your cloak and mask. You can’t go down the river to the Tower thus—in the cold!”
“I care not for it,” she replied; “go back?” she shuddered6, “I could not—I cannot breathe the same air with Spencer, it poisons me!”
Without another word young Mackie took off his own cloak and wrapped it around her, and she, in her excitement, took no thought of his exposure to the cold in his thin suit of velvet7 and satin.
“I must go!” she reiterated8, “the very shortest way—I must go to my husband!” and her voice broke pitifully.
“You shall go, dear Lady Clancarty,” he said gently, setting himself to face the task, though a sharp pain rankled9 in his own bosom10, and when he drew her hand through his arm he set his teeth.
He loved her, too, and she took no more thought of him than of a stone—such is the way of women.
The night wind cut their faces as they walked toward the river. She was so used to service from men, to their devotion, that she took his for granted; she did not even try to talk to him, but he heard her weeping softly and the pitiful little sound made him shiver. He[Pg 248] longed to comfort her, but he set his teeth harder—he knew she wept for Lord Clancarty.
When they reached the water stairs she was resolute11 again and alert. She walked unassisted down the steps and urged him to take any boat for the Tower, impatient of the wrangling12 of the boatmen. She stamped her foot at them, in fact, and took so high a tone that, at last, the blackguards subsided13 and took them meekly14 enough, though the order, “the Traitor’s Gate,” caused some murmurs15.
Once on the water she sat erect16 and silent, straining eyes and ears for the king’s boat, which had, of course, preceded hers, with her husband aboard. She hoped to be close enough behind to gain admission with him; she had no other hope, no other prayer but to share his fate, however wretched, to follow him to prison and to death. Her impulsive17 nature stirred at last to its depths swept her on. She could be as heroic now and as resolute as she had been careless and happy in the summer time of her life. She was imperial woman to her finger tips; she loved and hated with the full, fierce tide of her rich nature. She gave all and kept nothing back.
Young Mackie looking at the dark outline of her figure against the gray river, felt all this[Pg 249] keenly and admired her the more. She was a woman to die for, he thought, and turned his boyish face away, for he dared not look at her—it tried him too far.
Something in her mood seemed to cast a spell upon the boatmen; the wherry swept on in silence, save for the sound of the oars18 and the ripple19 of water under its bow. The lights of the city, feeble lanterns swung across the narrow, reeking20 streets, gleamed dimly; the river was as still as death.
At last the frowning bastions of the Tower—that inexorable fortress21, dark with secrets, grim as Fate,—cast their black shadow over them. And then,—Betty’s heart stood still—the boat turned and began to creep under the vaulted22 arch at the Traitor’s Gate. The faint gleaming of night upon the waters narrowed behind them and was swallowed up in darkness, while before, the red lights at the gate began to shine. The boat jarred on the steps. She looked up and saw the closed wicket and the guard of yeomen looking down, and suddenly despair seized upon her and she trembled so that Mackie had almost to lift her from the boat.
Then arose the question of admittance. She wished to see the warden23; but Sir Edward[Pg 250] knew this was no easy matter and resorted to a stratagem24.
“We come from Mr. Secretary Vernon,” he said boldly, with an air of authority.
“The matter is pressing,” Mackie said firmly; “we must be admitted.”
The sergeant shook his head, looking gravely out upon them. A yeoman lifted his torch and the light streamed on Lady Betty’s beautiful face.
“I cannot admit you at this hour,” the old soldier replied firmly but not unkindly; “my orders are explicit27.”
Betty’s face changed and seemed to shrink into childish proportions; she held out her hands pitifully.
“I beg you,” she said, her voice quivering, “I am Lady Clancarty, the wife of the earl who has just been arrested. Is he here? I pray you tell me?”
The two men at the wicket exchanged significant glances, and the elder looked down at her again in open pity.
“Twenty minutes? O Sir Edward, twenty[Pg 251] minutes ago, and I might have seen him!” and she wept bitterly.
“I pray you let me enter too!” she cried, “I would only share his prison. See, I have no weapons—nothing! I cannot set him free—I only want to share his fate!”
The sergeant waved aside her jewel.
“Nay,” he said firmly, “bribes I may not take. Truly, madam, if I could let you see your husband I would do it, but I dare not.”
Mackie urged him then, using the name of the Duke of Devonshire, though he had felt from the first that without a permit she could never be admitted. Lady Clancarty would not give way so readily; she struggled with her grief and commanded her voice again, going closer to the wicket and laying her hands upon it—that famous wicket which had closed behind so many prisoners; on Anne Boleyn and Lady Jane Grey, on Sir Thomas More and Cranmer and on the Duke of Norfolk; the wicket stained with a long history of terror and despair—was clasped now by Lady Betty’s slender fingers, and she prayed for admittance—a new prayer, indeed, at the Traitor’s Gate.
“You will let me in,” she said; “I must[Pg 252] speak with the captain of the guard! I am the daughter of the Earl of Sunderland. I demand this much—to see the captain of the guard.”
At this the man gave way a little; he sent a yeoman for the captain of the watch, but he kept the wicket closed and stood grim and silent, looking out upon them. The torchlight flared29 up and down, the water rippled30 below them on the stone steps—it seemed like the tongue of a hungry wolf lapping blood—and there was silence.
At last came the echo of heavy feet upon the stone floor, the rattle31 of arms, and the tall, gray-headed captain came to the wicket and looked out, inexorable as fate, though his eyes changed a little at the sight of Lady Clancarty, common as a woman’s grief was there. He listened to Mackie’s explanation, gravely respectful but unrelenting.
“I ask only to see him—to share his fate,” Betty said, as Sir Edward concluded, “’tis so little!”
But the officer shook his head.
“Nay, madam,” he replied kindly, “not without the king’s orders.”
“At least permit her to see her husband, to speak with him,” urged Sir Edward.
“’Tis a small thing to grant me,” cried[Pg 253] Betty, “I pray you, sir, think of your own wife in a like case, and show compassion32 on the unfortunate!”
“Nay, madam, I need no urging,” said the captain, “if it were in my power—but it is not; since the last assassination33 plot we have been strictly34 enjoined35 to guard our prisoners of state and hedge them in with every precaution. Your case is in higher hands than mine. Surely, Lady Clancarty, you can obtain influence enough to grant your wish,—your father, Secretary Vernon.”
“My father,” Lady Clancarty repeated bitterly, as she stood thinking, her white face downcast.
The two men exchanged significant glances; neither of them had hope. Clancarty was scarcely an object for the king’s clemency36; he was a notorious Jacobite, a man of daring, whose personal prominence37 as an Irish earl, no less than his political affiliations38, marked him out for probable example.
Happily, she did not see their looks, she stood leaning against the wicket, her head bent39. She looked up and began to plead again to see her husband.
“You may put me behind bolts and bars,” she said passionately40, “I care not; indeed, I[Pg 254] pray to be a prisoner too, since he is one. Ah, it is so little that I ask. What could I do? I could not break his chains—I could not set him free! I only pray—pray you,” she stretched out her hands in fervent41 supplication42, “to let me share his prison! I cannot be free while he is here—I will not be free!”
The old soldier shook his head, he was deeply touched.
“I cannot, madam,” he replied; “but let me beg you to carry this petition to one who can and will surely hear you.”
“You mean the king?” said Mackie.
The officer inclined his head. “I know of no one in these three kingdoms so merciful,” he replied quietly.
“’Tis a wise thought,” said Sir Edward gently, as if he spoke43 to a child; “come, Lady Clancarty, let us carry our petition to his majesty44.”
“I cannot leave him here,” she cried; “how dare you ask me?”
Young Mackie bowed his head; he, too, was shaken by her emotion.
“I only beg of you to appeal to one who[Pg 255] has the power to grant your petition,” he said, very low.
It was a little while yet before she conquered herself and looked up through her tears at them both.
“I believe you mean kindly to me,” she said, with a humility46 strangely touching47 in one of her high spirit; “I will go to my father, Sir Edward, he may hear me—but I have little hope—so little hope!” and she fell to weeping again.
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1
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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5
persuasively
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| adv.口才好地；令人信服地 | |
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6
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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7
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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8
reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rankled
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| v.（使）痛苦不已，（使）怨恨不已( rankle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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11
resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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12
wrangling
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| v.争吵，争论，口角( wrangle的现在分词 ) | |
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13
subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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14
meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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15
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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16
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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18
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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19
ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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20
reeking
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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warden
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| n.监察员，监狱长，看守人，监护人 | |
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24
stratagem
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| n.诡计，计谋 | |
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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26
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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27
explicit
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| adj.详述的，明确的；坦率的；显然的 | |
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costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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29
Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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30
rippled
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| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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31
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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32
compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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33
assassination
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| n.暗杀；暗杀事件 | |
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34
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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35
enjoined
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| v.命令( enjoin的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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36
clemency
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| n.温和，仁慈，宽厚 | |
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37
prominence
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| n.突出；显著；杰出；重要 | |
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38
affiliations
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| n.联系( affiliation的名词复数 )；附属机构；亲和性；接纳 | |
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39
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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40
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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41
fervent
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| adj.热的，热烈的，热情的 | |
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42
supplication
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| n.恳求，祈愿，哀求 | |
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43
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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44
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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45
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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46
humility
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| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
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47
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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