Evening Star Newspaper, December 11, 1897, Page 22

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, DECEMBER ‘11, “189726 “PAGES. evening Star. CHAPTER XIV. The King’s Cup. At least the vicar would be pleased. A whimsical joy in the anticipation of his de- ight shot across my gloomy meditations the sunset rays threaded their way as through the narrow window of the cham- ber that was my cell. The thought of him stayed with me, amusing my idleness and entertaining my fancy. I could imagine his . contented nod, far from surprise as are apart, full of self-approval as an ege of meat. For his vision had been clear, in him faith had never wavered. Of « truth the prophecy which old Betty Nasroth spoke (foolishness though it were) w through fortune’s freak two parts ful- fille What remained might rest unjusti- fied to my great content; small comfort had I won from so much as had come to P I had loved where the king had and my youth, though it ed its head again, still reeled under the blow; I knew what the king hid—aye, it might be more than one thing that he hid; my knowledge landed me where I hid now, in el confinement with a jailer at my door. For my own choice I would crave the viear’s pardon, would compound with des- tiny and, taking the proportion of fate’s gifts already dealt to me in lieu of all, weuld go in peace to humbler doings, be- neath the dignity of dark prophecy, but qn fit to give a man quiet days and comforts in his life. Indeed, as my Lord Quinton had d long ago, there was wine in the king's cup, and I had who would not nm moved b; strange workings nts which made the old woman's Yy seem the true reading of a future > be guess or reasonable fore: I d snarled at myself, at Betty, at cy, at the vi credulity. But tion would not be expelled. Two ned. Glamis thou art and ¢ wdor, halt be what thou art promi ee -t how it runs on, for it is long since I saw the play, theugh I make bold to think that it is well enough written. Alas, no tening to witches there. if s the story of the piece e¢ good came of 1 profit and less entertain- ow I lav iike a beast in hi: a for Buckingham's I paid small heed to Nell’s jeal- y It was naught to me who should the king’s next favorite, and although with all cther honest men, hated a popish t kir . the fear of him would m: m Who cats b dem f: lite nee -p or from my dinner the less though To take a young man’s appe- iy and keep his eyes open o' nights nearer touch than that. But I on me a horror of what was being done in this plac They sold a lady's honor there. throwing it in for a makeweight heir bargain. I would have dashed the s from their hands, but I was helpless. truth. A man need not be him when y hi he was young. And if i the backing of something that I myself knew not yet, why, for ys guod safety God sent it such packing alw Without some such aid it is too often brought to terms and sings smal! in the end. e evening grew 1 turn ate, and darkness had ain ‘to my supper, and t and to drink a glass or two ddenly I remembered Joneh 1 sent a curse after the negligent fellow, wherever he might be, determining that the next morning he should take his choice between a drubbing and dismissal. Then I stretched myself again on the pallet, resolute to see whether a man could will himself to sleep. But I had hardly closed my eyes when I opened them again ard started up leaning on my elbow. There w in conversation with my ja The conference was very brief. ‘s order,” I heard in a Here's the kin sareless tone. “Open the door, 2 quick. flung open. I sprang to my fect with a bow. The Duke of Bucking- n stor before me, surveying my person truth my state was very disheveled) d my quarters with supercilious amu ment There was one chair, and I for him. He sat down, pulling off his lace- trimmed gloves. the tleman I wanted?” he “Tre Duke of Mon- > spoken to the king on acknowledgments. * he continued, to my B le in two hour: ation. joy. he he if I leave the castle how ean I fulfill your grace desire?” " se were the king's orders. I have something to add to them. Here, I © written it down, that you may under- nd not forget. Your lantern there poor light, but your eyes are young. Read what is written, T touk the paper that ke banded me and In two hours’ time be at Ca will be open Two ® with two ho ed to the gate nonsgate erving men A lady will nd delivered into 3 will ride with her as speedily as possibl> to Deal. You will cail her your sister, if need arise to speak of her. Go to the hostelry of the Merry Mari- ners in Deal, and there await a gentleman, w il come in the morning, and hand ts in gold. Deliver the lady i n finmediately to in safe hiding till word in amazement. isn’t it plain enough?” I answered, “but me who is the need is there for you to know? Do nink that mor thar one will seek you Merry Mariners’ tavern, and pray ptance of fifty guin: I should like to know who the one him.” . this is not 1 to tell me. You cxn't be told more, sir.” “Then I won't go” He frowned and beat his gloves on his impatiently. A gentleman, your grac state such as to entitle you to onditions?” when your grace hfs need “Only Which I can give or refuse, 4, f set I an- His irritation suddenly semed to vanish. He leaned ir and laughed. the time.” said he, “you've » gentleman. Isn't it so? Come, » understand one another. This Y well, is simple. But if yeu're Interrupted in leaving the castle you Must use your sword. Well. if you use word and don’t prove victorious, you be taken. If you're taken, it will be Yest for all of us that you shouldn't know the name of this gentleman. and best for him and for me that I should not have mentioned it.” The little Jout bowing. or ¢ that I had harbored was gere. Buckingham and Monmouth were hard in hand. Backingham’s object wa: political. Monmouth was to find his re- yard in the prize that I was to rescue from clutches of M. de Perrencourt and hand to him at the hostelry in Deal. If suc- attended the attempt I was to disap- if it failed my name and I were to be the shield and bear the brunt. The reward was fifty guineas and perhaps a service- able gratitude in the minds of two great mem, provided I lived to enjey the fruit of it ‘You'll accept the task?” asked the duke. « The tack was to thwart M. de Peryen- ccurt and gratify the Duke of Monmouth. If I refused it another might accept and ac- complish it; if such a champion failed M. de Perrencourt would triumph. If I ac- cepted. I should accept in the fixed inten- tion of playing traitor to one of my em- & had a trifle of honesty | jern side. COPYRIGHT 1897 Cots 8Y ANMaWKINS ployers. I might serve Buckingham’s turn. I should seek to thwart Monmcuth. Who pays me my fifty guineas?” I ed. ‘Faith, I,” he arswered, with a shrug. “Young Monmouth is enough his father's son to have his pockets always empty.” On this point I settled my point of casu- istry in an instant. “Then I'll carry the lady away from the castle,” I cried. He started. leaned forward and looked hard in my face. “What do you mean, what do you know?” he asked plainly enough, although silently. But I had cried cut with an appearance of zeal and in- nocence, that baffled his curiosity, and my guileless expression gave his suspicions no food. Perhaps, too, he had no wish to in- quire. There was little love between him and Monmouth, for he had been bitterly offended by the honors and precedence as- signed to the duke. Only a momentary co- incidence of interest bound them together in this scheme. If the part that concerned Buckingham were accomplished he would not break his heart on account of the lady not being ready for Monmouth at the hos- telry of the Merry Mariners. “I think, then, that we understand one another, Mr. Dale,” said he, rising. “Well enough, your grace,” I answered, with a bow, and I rapped on the door. The jailer opened it. “Mr. Dale is free to go where he will within the castle. You can return to your quarters,” said Buckingham. The soldier marched off. turned tu me. “Good fortune in your enterprise,” he said. “And I give you Joy on your liberty.” The words were not out of his mouth when a lieute it and two men appeared, Buckingham —o8r) closed to me by the flaring ofl lamps hung in sconces to the ancient smoky walls. I was tn a narrow room, low and not large, scantily furnished with faded richness and hung to half its height with molder- ing tapestries. The floor was bare and ureven from time and use. In the middle of the room was a long table of polished oak wood, in the center of it sat the king, on his left was the Duchess of Orleans and beycnd her the Duke of York; on the king's right at the end of the table was an empty chair. Clifford moved toward it now and took his seat; next to him was Arlington, then Coibert de Croissy, the special envoy of the French king; next to our king was an- other empty chair, an armchair, like the king's; empty it was, but M. de Perren- court ‘leaned easily over the back of it, with his eyes fixed on me. On the table were materials for writing and a large sheet of paper faced the king—or M. de Perrencovrt—it seemed just between them. There was nothing else on the table ex- cept a bottle of wine and two cups. One was full to the brim, while the liquor in theother fell short of the top of the glass by a quarter of an inch. All present were silent; save M. de Perrencourt all seemed disturbed. The king's swarthy face ap- peared rather pale than swarthy, and his hand rapped nervously on the table. All this I saw, while Darrell stood rigidly by me, sword in hand. Madame was the first to speak, her deli- cate, subtle face lit up with recognition. “Why, I have spoken with this gentle- man,” she s@id in a low tone. “And I, also,” said M. de Perrencourt, under his breath. I think he hardly knew that he spoke, for the words seemed the erest unconscious outcome of his “GOD SAVE YOUR MAJESTY.” approaching -vs at a rapid walk, nay, al- most at a run. They made directly for us, the duke and I both watching them. The officer's sword was drawn in his hand; their daggers were fixed in the muzzles of the soldiers’ musk “What's happened now?” asked Bucking- ham, in a whisper. The answer was not long in coming. The lieutenant halted before us, crying: “In the king's name I arrest you, sir.” m my soul, you've a habit of being arrested, sir,” said the duke, sharply. “What's the cause this time?” “I don’t know,” I answered, and I asked the officer, “On what account, sir?” he king's orders,” he answered, curtly. “You must come with me at once.” At a sign from him his men took their stand on either side of me. Verily, my lberty had been short. “I must warn you that we shall stand at nothing if you try to es- cape,” said the officer, sternly. “I'm not a fool, sir,” I answered. “Where are you going to take me?” “Where my orders direct.’ “Come, come,” interrupted Buckingham, impatiently, ‘“‘not so much mystery. You know me? Well, this gentleman is my friend, ard I desire to know where you take him. “I crave not answel “Then I'll follow you and discover,” cried the duke, angrily. “At your gi Officer, firmly. one of my men to detain DaJe must go alone with me. Wrath and wonder were elequent on the proud duke’s face. In me this new misad- venture bred a species of resignation. I smiled at him as I said: : Ty business with your grace must wait, it seems.” “Forward, sir,” cried the officer, impa- tiently, and I was marched off at a round pace, Buckingham not attempting to follow but turning back In the direction of the Duke cf Monmouth’s quarters. The confed- erates must seek a new instrument now; if there purpose were to thwart the king’s wishes, they might not again find what they wanted so <asily. I was conducted straight and quickly to the keep, and passed up the steps that led ur grace’s pardon, but I must e’s peril,” answered the f you insist I must leave ou here. Mr. | to the corridor in which the king was lodz- ed. They hurried me along, and I had time to notice nothing until I came to a door near the end of the building, on the west. Here I found Darrell, apparently on guanl, for his sword was drawn and a pistol in ‘his left hand. “Here, sir, is Mr. Dale,” said my conduc- tor. “Good,” answered Darrell, briefly. I saw 1 Turned to Him in Amazement. that his face was very pale, and he accord- ed me not the least sign of recognition. “Is he armed?” he asked. “You see I have no weapons, Mr. Dar- rell,” said I stiffly. “Search him,” commanded Darrell, noring me utterly. I grew hot and angry; the soldiers obey- ed his order. I fixed my eyes on him, but he would not meet my gaze; the point of his sword tapped the floor on which it rested, fer his hand was shaking like a leat. “There's no weapon on him,” announced the officer. Very well. Leave him with me, sir, and retire with your men to the foot of the steps. If you hear a whistle, return as quickly as possible.” ‘The officer bowed. turned about and de- parted, followed by his men. Darrell and I stood facing one another for a moment. “In heaven's name, what's the meaning of this, Darrell?” I cried. “Has madame brought the Bastile over with her, and are you made governor?” He answered not a word. Keeping his sword still in readiness, he tapped with the muzzle of his pistol on the door by him. After a moment it was opened and a head looked out. The face was Sir Thom- as Clifford's; the door was flung wide, a gesture from Darrell bade me enter. I stepped in, he followed, and the door was instantly shut close behind us. I shall not readily forget the view dis- thoughts. ‘The king raised his hand, as though to impose silence. Madame bowed in apolo- getic submission. M. de Perrencourt took no heed of the gesture, although he did not speak again. A moment later he laid his hand on Colbert’s shoulder and whis- pered to him, I thought I heard just a word, it was ‘‘Fontelles.”’ Colbert looked up and nodded. M. de Perrencourt folded his arms on the back of the chair, and his face resumed its impassivity. Another moment passed before the king spoke. His voice was calm, but there seemed still to echo in it a trace of some violent emotion newly passed; a slight smile curved his Ips, but there was more malice than mirth in it. “Mr. Dale,” said he, “the gentleman whe stands by you once beguiled an idle minute for me by telling me of a certain strange prophecy made concerning you which he had, he said, from your own lips, and in which my name—or, at least, some king’s name—and yours were quaintly coupled. You know what I refer to?” I bowed low, wondering what in heaven's name he could be at. It was, no doubt, high folly to love Mistress Gwyn, but scarcely high treason. Besides, had not I repented and foresworn ber? Ah, but the second member of the prophecy? I glanced eagerly at M. de Perrencourt, eagerly at the paper before the king. There were lines on the paper, but I could not read them, and M. de Perrencourt’s face was fully as baffling. “If I remember rightly,” pursued the king, after listening to a whispered sen- tence from his sister, ‘the prediction fore- told that you should drink of my cup. Is it not so?” “It was so, sir, although what your ma- Jeaty quotes was the end, not the beginning of it.” For an instant 2 smile glimmered on the king's face. It was gone, and he proceeded gravely: “I am concerned only with that part of it. I love prophecies and I love to see them fulfilled. You see that cup there, the one that is not quite full. That cup of wine was poured cut for me, the other for my friend, M. de Perrencourt. I pray you, drink of my cup, and let the Prophecy stand fulfilled.” In honest truth I began to think chat the king had drunk other cups before and left them not so full. Yet he looked sober enough and the rest were grave and mute. What masquerade was this, to bring me under guard and threat of death to drink a cup of wine? I would have drunk a dozen of my free will, for the asking. “Your majesty desires me to drink that cup of wine?” I asked. “If you please, sir, the cup that was poured out for me.” “With all my heart,” I cried, and, membering my manners, added, “and with most dutiful thanks to your majesty for this signal honor.” A stir, hardly to be seen, yet certain, ran round the table. Madame Stretched*out a hand toward the cup as though with a sud- den impulse to seize it. The king caught her hand and held it prisoner. M. de Per- rencourt suddenly dragged his chair back, and passing in front of it, stood close over a table. comecty looked up at him, but is eyes were fixed on me, and went unnoticed. Sd as “Then come and take it,” said the king. I advanced after a low bow; Darrell, to my fresh wonder, kept pace with me, and when I reached the table was still at my side. Before I could move the sword might be through me or the ball from his pistol in my brains. The strange scene began to intoxicate me, its stirring suggestion mount. ing to my brain like fumes of wine. I seized the cup and held it high in my hand. I looked down in the king’s face and thence to madame’s; to her I bowed low and cried: ‘By his majesty’s permission, I will drain rela cus boris mas of the fairest and lustrious princess, m: Duckess of Orleans.” See ‘The duchess half rose from her = ing in a loud whisper, “Not to mess cae I can’t have him drink it to me. ese The king still held her hand. “Drink it to me, Mr. Dale,” said he. tines be ae and put the cup to my . I was in the act to drinl de Perrencourt spoke. i eee ioe “A moment, sir,” he sald, calmly. “Have I the king’s permission to tell Mr, Dale a See this wine?’ ie Duke ork looked with a fro phe ae rete a de BeTenchnee ‘as if » the Frenchman = nodded. met his glance “M. de Perrencourt is our . i Pig Teust do as he will Sehr '. de Perrencourt havii thus obtat permission (when was his neil cantigt him) leaned one — on the table, and, bending across toward me, seid in slow, iebreenve tones: Sonne “The king, sir, was wearied with busin: and parched with talking; of his gouiness he detected in me the same condition. So he bade my good friend and his good sub- ject, Mr. Darrell, furnish him with bottle of wine, and Mr. Darrell brought a bottle, saying that the king’s cellar was shut and the cellarman in bed, but praying the king to honor him by drinking his wine, which was good Frerch wine, such as the king loved and such as he hoped to put before his majesty ‘&t supper presently. Then his majesty ssked whence it came, end Mr. Darrell answered that he was indebted for it to his good friend, Mr. Simon Dale, who would be honored by the king’s drink-- ing it.” “Why, it’s my own wine, then!” I cried, smiling oft ; “He spoke thd truth, aia he?” pursued M. de Perrencourt, composedly. “It is your wine, sent_by yay to Mr. Darrell “Even so, sir,” I answered. “Mr. Dar- rell’s wine, was, out, and I sent him some bottles of ine By his servant. “You knew fof what he needed it?" I had fomgottgn for the moment what Robert said, and hesitated in my answer. M. de Perrencoust iooked intently at me. “I think,” said I, “that Robert told me Mr. Darrell expected the king to sup with wim,” tt ‘He told you that?” he asked, sharply. “Yes, I reéMem@er that,” said I, now thor- oughly bewildered by the history and the catechism fwhick scemed necessary to an act so simple as drinking a glass of my own wine.r M. de Pefrencourt said nothing more, but his eyes were still set on my face, with a puzzled, searchifg expression. His glance confused me, and I looked round the table. Often at such moments the merest trifles catch our attention, and now for the first time I observed that a little of the wine had been spilled on the polished oak of the table, and where it had fallen the bright surface seemed rusted to dull brown. I noticed the change and wondered for an idle second how it came that wine turned @ polished table dull. The thing was driven from my head the next moment by a brief and harsh order from the king. “Drink, sir, drink.” Strained with excitement, I started at the order, and spilled some of the winc from the cup on my hand. I felt a strange burning where it fell, but again the king cried, “Drink, sir.” I hesitated no more. Recalling my wan- dering wits, and determining to play my part in the comedy, whatever it might meun, I bowed, cried “God save your maj- esty,” and raised the cup to my lips. As it tovched them I saw madame hide her eyes with her hand, and M. de Perrencourt lean further across the table, while a short, quick gasp of breath came from where Darrell stood by my side. I knew how to take off a bumper of wine. No sippings and swallowings for me. I laid my tongue well down in the bottom of my mouths that the liquor might have fair passage, and threw my head back as you see a hen do (in thanks to heaven, they say, though she drinks only water). Then I tilted the cup, and my mouth was full of the wine. I was cofscious of a taste in it, a strange, acrid taste. Why, it was peor wine, turned sour; it should go back tomorrow; that fool Jonah was a fool in all things; and I stood disgraced for offering this acrid stuff to a friend. And he gave It to the king! It was the cruelest chance. Why— Suddenly, when I had gulped down but one good mouthful, I saw M. de Perren- court lean right across the table. Yet I saw him dimly, for my eyes seemed to grow glazed and the room to spin round me, the figures at the table taking strange shapes and weird, dim faces, and a singing sound- ing in my ears, as though the sea roared there, and not on Dover beach. There was a woman's cry, and a man’s arm shot out at me. I felt a sharp blow on my wrist, the cup was dashed from my hand on to the stone floor, breaking into ten thousand pleces, while the wine made a puddle at my feet. I stood there for an instant, struck motionless, glaring into the face that was opposite to mine. It was M. de Perren- court's, no longer calm, but pale and twitch. ing. This was the last thing I saw clea ly. The king and his companions were fused in a shifting mass of trunks and faci the walls raced round, the singing of the sea roared and fretted in my ears. I caught my hand to my brow and staggered. I could not stand. I heard a clatter as though of a sword falling to the floor, arms were stretched out to receive me, and I sank into them, hearing a murmur close by me, “Simon, Simon!” Yet one thing more I heard before my senses left me, a loud, proud, imperious voice, the VGice'that speaks to be obeyed, whose assertion, brooks no contradiction. It rang in my,.ears where nothing else could reach them, and eve then I knew whence it came. The voice was the voice of M. de Perrencourt, and it seemed that he spoke to the king of England. “Brother,” he cried, “by my faith in God, this gentleman is innocent, and his life is on our heads if he lose it.” I heard no more. Stupor veiled me round in an impenetrable mist. The figures van- ished, the tumyltuous singing ceased. A great silence encompassed me, and all was gone. ; a CHAPTER XV. M. De Perrenceurt Whispers. Slowly the recom and the scene came back to me, dtwengaging themselves from the darkness which had settled on my eyes, regaining distinctness and their proper form. I was sitting in a chair, and there were wet bendages about my head. Those present before were there still, save M. de Perrencourt, whose place at the table was vacant. The large sheet of paper and ma- terials for writing had vanished. There was a fresh group at the end next to Ar- lington. Here now sat the Dukes of Mon- mouth and Buckingham, carrying on a low conversation with the secretary. The king lay back in his chair frowning and regard- ing with severe gaze a man who stood op- posite to him, almost where I had _ been when I drank of the king’s cup. There stood Darrell and the Heutenant of the guards who had arrested me, and between them, with clothes torn and muddy, face scratched and stained with blood,’ with panting breath and gleaming eyes, firmly held by either arm, was Phineas Tate, the ranter. They had sent and caught him, then, while I lay unconscious. But what led them to suspect him? ‘There was the voice of a man speaking from the other side of this party of three. I could not see him, for their bodies came between, but I recognized the tones of Rob- ert, Darrell’s servant. It was he, then, who had put them on Jonah’s track, and in following that they must have come on Phineas. “We found the two together,” he was saying, ‘this man and Mr. Dale's servant, who had brought the wine from the town. Both were armed with pistols and daggers, and seemed ready to meet an attack. In the alley in front of the house that I have named—” “Yes, yes, enough of the house,” inter- rupted the king, impatiently. “In the alley there “were two horses ready. We attacked the men at once, the Heutenant and I making for this one here, the two with us striving to secure Jonah Wall. This man struggled desperately, but seemed ignorant of how to handle his weapons. Yet he gave us trouble enough, and we had to use him roughly. At last we had him, but then we found that Jonah, who fought like a wild cat, had wounded both the guard: with his knife, and, al- though himself wounded, had escaped by. the stairs. Leaving this man with the lieutenant, I rushed down after him, but one of the horses was gone and I heard no‘| sound of hoofs. He had got a start of us and is well out of Dover by now.” I was straining all my attention to listen, yet my eyes fixed themselves on Phineas, whose head was thrown back defiantly. Suddenly a voice came from behind my chair. “That man must be pursued,” said M. de Perrencourt. “‘Who knows that there may not be accomplices in this devilish plot? This man has planned to poison the king, the servant was his confederate. I say, may there not have been others in the wicked scheme?}’ “True, true,” said the king uneasily. “We must lay this jonah Wall by the heels. What's known him?” Thinking jhe "al was made to me, I strove to rise. M. de Perrencourt’s arm reached over the back of my chair and kept me down.,,I heard Darrell take up the story gnd fell what he knew—and it was as much ag I knew—of Jonah Wall, and what hg knew of Phineas Tate also. “It is devilish plot,” said the king, who was still greatly, shaken and perturbed. Then Phineas Spoke loudly, boldly, and with a voice full of the rapturous fanati- cism which; drowned conscience and usurp- ed in him religign’s place. “Here,” he cried, “are the plots, Here are the devi plots! What do you here? Aye, what do. you plot here? Is this man’s life more than God’s truth? Is God’s word to be“lost that the sins and debauch- ery of this‘men may continue?” His long, lean forefinger pointed at the king. A mute consternation fell for an in- stant on them all, and none interrupted him. They had no answer geady for his question. Men do not count on such ques- tions being asked at court—the manners are too good there. “Here “are the plots. I count myself blessed to die in the effort to thwart them. I have failed, but others shall not fail. God's judgment is sure. What do you here, Charles Stuart?” M. de Perrengourt walked suddenly and briskly rovnd to where the king sat, and whispered in ear. The king noddéd- and said nk this fellow is mad, but it is a madness.” “I think “Guineas id rot heed “him, but ried Phineas ’ all given over to the superstitions of Rome? Ae you all here to barter God's word and—" The king sprang to his feet. “I won't listen,” he cried. ‘Stop his cursed mouth. I wen’t listen.” He looked around with fear and alarm in his eyes. I perceived bis gaze turned toward his son and Buckingham. Following it I saw their faces alight with eagerness, excitement and curiosity. Arlington looked down at the table, Clifford leaned his head on his hand; at/ the other end the Duke of York had sprung up like his brother and was glaring angrily at the bold prisoner. Darrell did not wait to be bidden twice, but whipped a silk handkerchief from his pocket. “Here and now the deed is being don: eried Phineas. ‘Here and could say no more; in spite of his desper- ate struggles he was gagged and stood si- lent, his eyes still burning with the mes- sage his lips were not suffered to utter. The king sank back in his seat and cast a furtive glance around the table. Then he sighed as though in relief, and wiped his brow. Monmouth’s voice came clear, careless, confident. “What's this madness?” he asked. “Who ere is bartering God's word? And for what, pray?” ; No answer was given to him; he glanced in insolent amusement at Arlington and Clifford, then in insolent defiance at the Duke of York. “Is not the with the king father. “So safe, James, that it does not need you to champion it,” said the king dryly, yet his voice trembled a little. Phineas raised that lean forefinger at him again and point- ed. “Tie the fellow’s arms to his side,” the king commanded in hasty irritation; he sighed again when the finger could no longer point at him, and his eyes again fur- tively sought Monmouth’s face. The young duke leaned back with a scornful smile, and the consciousness of the king’s regard did not lead him to school his face to any more seemly expression. My wits had come back now, although my head ached fierce- ly, and my body was full of acute pain; but I watched all that passed, and I knew that, come what might, they would not let Phineas speak. Yet Phineas could know nothing. Nay, but the shafts of madness, often wide, may once hit the mark. The paper that had lain between the king and M. de Perrencourt was hidden. Again the French gentleman bent and whispered in the king’s ear. He spoke long this time, and all kept silence while he spoke. Phineas because he must, the lieu- tenant with surprised eyes, the rest in that seeming indifference which, as I now knew, masked their real deference. At last the king looked up, nodded and smiled. His air grew calmer and more assured, and the trembling was gone from his voice as he spoke. MSCome, gentlemen,” said he, “while we talk this ruffian who has escaped us makes good pace from Dover. Let the Duke of Monmouth and the Duke of Buckingham each take a dozen men and scour the country for him. I shall be greatly in the debt of either who brings him to me. ‘The two dukes started. The service which the king demanded of them entailed an ab- sence of several hours from the’ castle. It might be that they, or one of them, would learn something from Jonah Wall, but it was far more likely that they would not find him, or that he would not suffer him- self to be taken alive. Why were they sent and not a couple of the officers on duty? But if the king’s object were to se- cure their absence the scheme was well laid. I thought now that I could guess what M. de Perrencourt had said in that whispered conference. Buckingham had the discretion to recognize when the game went against him. He rose at once with a bow, declaring that he hastened to obey the king’s command and would bring the fellow in, dead or alive. Monmouth had less self-control. He rose, indeed, but re- luctantly and with a sullen frown on his handsome face. “It's poor work looking for a single man over the countryside,” he grumbled. “Your devotion to me will inspire and guide you, James,” observed the king. A chance of mocking another made him: him- self again as no other cure could. “Come, lose no time.” Then the king added: “Take this fellow away and lock him up, Mr. Darrell. See that you guard him well, and let nobody come near him.” M. de Perrencourt whispered. “Above all, let him speak to nobody. He must tell what he knows only at the right time,” added the king. “When will that be?” asked Monmouth audibly, yet so low that the king could feign not to hear, and smiled pleasantly at his son. But still the duke lingered, al- though Buckingham was gone and Phineas Tate had been led out between his custo- Gians. His eyes sought mine, and I read an appeal in them. That he desired to take me with him in pursuit of Jonah Wall I did not think, but he desired above all things to get me out of that room, to have speech with me, to know that I was free to work out the scheme which Buck- ingham had disclosed to me. Nay, it was hot unlikely that his search for Jonah Wall would lead him to the hosteiry of the Merry Mariners at Deal. And for my plan, too, which differed so little, and yet so much, from his, for that also I must be free. I rose to my feet, delighted to find that I could stand well and that my pains grew no more severe with movement. “I am at your grace’s orders,” said I. “May I ride with you, sir? The king looked at me doubtfully. “I should be glad of your company,” said the duke, “if your health allows.” “Most fully, sir,” I answered, and turn- ing to the king I begged his leave to de- part. And that leave I should, as I think, have obtained but for the fact that once again M. de Perrencourt whispered to the king. The king rose from his seat, took M. de Perrencourt’s arm, and walked with him to where his grace stood. I watched them till a little stifled laugh caught my attention. Madame's face was merry and her's the laugh. She saw my look on her, and laughed again, raising her finger to her lips in a swift, stealthy motion. She glanced eround apprehensively, but her action had passed unnoticed. The Duke of York seemed sunk in a dull apathy. Clif- ford and Arimgton were busy in conver- sation. What did she mean? Did she con- fess that I held their secret and imposed silence on me by a more than royal com- mand, by the behest of bright eyes and red lips which dared me to betray their con- fidence? On the moment’s impulse I bowed assent, madame nodded merrily and waved a kiss with her dainty hand. No word passed, but I felt that I, being a gentle- man, could tell no man alive what I sus- pected, aye, what I knew, concerning M. de Perrencourt. Thus lightly are pledges given when ladies ask them. The Duke of Monmouth started back with a sudden angry motion. The king smiled at him. M. de Perrencourt laid a hand decked with rich rings on his lace cuff. Madame rose, laughing still, and joined the three. I cannot tell what passed—alas, that the matters of highest interest are always elusive—but a moment later Monmouth fell back with as sour a look as I have ever seen on a man's face, bowed slightly and not over courteously, faced round and strode through the doorway, opening the door for himself. I heard madame’s gay laugh, again the king spoke, madame cried “Fie,” and hid her face with her hand. M. de Perrencourt advancer toward me. The king caught his arm. “Pooh, he knows al- ready,” muttered Perrencourt, half under his breath, but he gave way and the king came to me first. “Sir,” said he, “the Duke of Monmouth has had the dutiful kindness to release his claim on your present services, and to set you free to serve me.” I bowed very low, answering: “His grace is bountiful of kindness to me, and has given the greatest proof of it in enabling me to serve your majesty. “My pleasure is,” pursued the King, “that you attach yourself to my friend, M. de Perrencourt here, and accompany him and hold yourself at his disposal until further commands from me reach you.” M. de Perrencourt stepped forward and addressed me. “In two hours” time, sir,” said he, “I beg you to be ready to accompany me. A ship lies yonder at the pier waiting to carry his excellency, M. Colbert de Croissy*and my- self to Calais tonight on business of mo- ment. Since the king gives you to me, I pray your company.” “Till then, Mr. Dale, adieu,” said the king. “Not a word of what has passed here to- night to any man—or any woman. Be in readiness. You know enough, I think, to tell you that you receive a great honor in M. de Perrencourt’s request. Your discre- tion will show your worthiness. Kiss madame’s hand and leave us."” They both smiled at me, and I stood half bewildered. “Go,” said M. de Perrencourt, with @ laugh, clapping me on the shoulder. The two turned away. Madame held out her hand toward me; I bent and kissed it. “Mr. Dale,” said she, “you have all the virtues.” “Alas, madame, I fear you don’t mean to commend me.” “Yes, for a rarity, at least. But you have ‘one vice.” ~ OF Rp errr mete gt pe rei ness name.” “Nay, I shall increase it by naming it. But here it is; your eyes are too wide open, ligion of the country saf ” he asked, bowing to hi: Mr. Dale.” “My mother, madame, used to accuse me of keeping them half shut.” iS mother had net seen you at court, sir” “True, madame, nor had my ewes beheld your royal highness.” She laughed, pleased with a compliment jwaach was well in the mode then, though ; ™Y Sons may ridicule it; but as she turned ‘ away, she adde2: “I shall not be with you tonight, de Perrencourt hates a staring eye. I was warned, and 1 was grateful. But there I stopped. Since heaven had given me my eyes, nothing on earth could pre- vent their opening when matter worth the looking was presented. And perhaps they might be open, and yet seem shut to M. de Perrencourt. With a final salute to the exalted company I went out; as I went they resumed their places at the table, M. de Perrencoart saying, “Come, let us finish. I must be away before dawn. (To be continued.) 2 See ART AND ARTISTS. and M. A new art movement that is bound to at- tract a good deal of attention has now taken definite rhape with the founding of an advanced art school in this city for col- ored students. The school is probably unique, as no institution based on these lines comes to mind at this moment, except those connected with college courses. While it is true that the fondness for art is not very widespread among the colored people, the taste for the artistic is more general than is often supposed, as is evinced by the crganization of this band of workers. Heretotore all of the instruction available, outside of that given to the children in the public schools, has been of the most trifling and superficial nature. Now, classes where serious werk is to by ne have been estab- a lished under the leadership of Mr. William Hill, a colored sculptor, who has shown werk of a good 1 of promise at the cx- hibitions ot the S. W. A., and who is thoroughly competent to give them th! less advanced instruction that most of the stu- dents need at present. The schooi is in- stalled in a temporary studio at 1735 L street, and though starting with a small equipment of casts, ete., the members h that an increase in numerical strength will render possible better facilities for study. One evening last week Mr. U. S. J. Dunbar gave the members a short talk on the study of art and made some helpful suggestions. Doubtless a number of others among the localeartists will show the same commen- dable spirit in encouraging this movem when it comes to more general notice. Even if the school does not turn out fin- ished artists, its educational influence will doubtless be far-reaching and bene and the progress of the school will watched with interes At Mr. Fischer's there is a Felix Zicm which has all the richness in color usual in that artist's work, but without the slightest, crudeness, The scene is in Venice, and the motive one of those which make the place 8o popular with artists, a stretch of water lit up by the sun, which is low on the horizon, and on the right two brilliantly eclored t off by the dark masses of several The water, lit up by the sunset, has a very luminous quality, and prcduces an almost Turneresque effect. Ps Pars Mr. Max Weyi's studio is just now given up to the exhibition of his fall work, which will continue till Wednesday next. Ther are to be seen there a number and vuricty of subjects which ably represent the acteristic features of the artist's work; his thoroughly artistic feeling and his super- icrity over merely conventional methods of treatment. A number of the pictures shown are the results of his work near Keswick, Va., where he spent some time this !ast summer, but he has also found many good bits of landscape close to the city. He has scme good wood interiors and sky and cicud effects, and displays his fondness for sunset effects in several of the most pleas- ing things in the collection. One of these is a view across the Potomac flats, very interesting im composition and glowing with color. It shows an expanse of marsh grass broken by a narrow stretch of water on the left, and on the right masses of trees stand out against a brilliant sunset sky. A simi- lar motive has been treated by Mr. Wey! in a lower tone, the coloring being as deli- cate as that in the first is rich, making a very exquisite lttle picture. Still another canvas gives a really dramatic impression, the sky being painted strongly, with the sunlight coming through tne light and dark masses of the clouds, and with a bold streak of color near the horizon. In the middle distance are some trees with a fine effect of sunset light shining through them, and near a pool in the foreground are some cattle. In his woud interiors one sees fresh demonstrations of Mr. Weyl's ability to draw tr One odd bit of landscape, quite in contrast to his usual richness of color, gives rather an impression of bleakness and bareness. In the center are a num of small trees of irregular shapes, spreading their crooked branches out over the scene. ™ Mr. Frank J. Schwartz exercises his skill and artistic feeling in painting upon chi in much the same manner as other artis’ use other mediums, not confining himself to mere decorative painting. A number of small tiles in china are among his recent work. One of them, representing a nymph and a fisherman, is a very charming of work. The figure of the maiden who is rising out of the sea with arms outstreich- ed is a graceful and well-drawn nude, the delicate head being especially good. In another there is a suggestion of Alma Ta- dema in the classic figure of a girl in Greek gown and filleted hair sitting against the background of a marble wall, the marble being very cleverly painted. Two litt ures adapted from a painting by Bo reau are on 2 third tile, and show very dainty workmanship. Mr. Schwartz ha also been painting several miniature por- thaits on ivory recently. * The largest picture Mr. W. H. Machen has been working on of late is an interest- ing subject showing a couple of pointers out in the field, intently examining a pile of | brushwood. The setting for this scene is a pleasing landscape in warm autumn col- ors, with tall grass and trees in the dis- tance. He has lately done several game subjects, one of the best being a study of some ducks, and he has also been re*ouch- ing a number of other pictures. * x * Mr. Henry Floyd, who is now installed in a studio at 1710 G street, has many in- teresting canvases that he painted abroad during the past summer, though much of his time was occupied in portraiture, and such work has of course passed out of his hands. Among the outdoor subjects there are two street scenes, painted in France, showing the picturesque fifteenth century houses with their quaint irregular roofs and softly tinted gray walls. Both can- vases are execured almost entirely with ibe palette knife, a method which gives great strength and solidity, and yet Mr. Floyd has retained a certain delicacy that is sel- dcm found in work of this style. Another French motive is & simple sweep of hillside with the yellow gorse in the foreground and a flarcing western sky casting a re- flected glow over the scene. The light streaks of cloud converge toward the sun- set, giving the sky a very odd effect that one sees but seldom. Among the other canvases is a pleasing essay giving, a glimpse of tall trees reflected in the surface of a sedgy pool. * x Artistic and literary circles have recently received a most welcome addition in Mr. and Mrs. Edward Lind Morse, who have become residents of the capital. Mr. Morse is an artist of distinction, his specialty be ing portraiture. He is a son of the cel brated S. F. B. Morse. Mrs. Morse, whose pen name is Charlotte Dunning, is the au- thor of two charming novels. —_—_> CONTROL OF KHYBER PASs, How the Brits From Wolves b From the Revue de Paris. Khyber pass had long a deplorable repu- tation. It Is inhabited by a peculiarly sav- age tribe, the Afridis, more thievish and more inclined to play with the knife or the blunderbuss than the rest of the Afghans, which is saying a good deal. Until th agreement of ISS2, being absolute masters of the passes, this amiable tribe lived there like a rat in its cheese, pitilessly levying toll on the poor caravans forced to submit to their exactions, for the only route to Kabul passes that way, the mountains everywhere else placing an insurmountable barrier between India and the ameer's country. When a caravan was so ill-in- spired as to be recalcitrant it pald dearly for it. Ensconced in their inaccessible eyries, the Afridis leisurely, and without difficulty or peril, shot down the unfortu- nate travelers. In a few minutes all were massacred and pillaged. As long as the victims were natives the English took little notice, but a European having one day taken it into his head to go to see th famous pass, a too-well-aimed bullet m. him pay dearly for his curiosity. The Bri ish government aroused itself, and ve generously, for the victim was not om the queen’s subjects. It resolved on sig vengeance for the aggression. This prot policy proved terribly costly. The expedi- lion of 1842 cost the blood of 15,000 me In 187), after a second accident of the sam kind, rather different tactics were pursi The Afridis learned at their own exp ed the Afridin Shepherds. all the power of English gold. When they were at last brought to rea- son the government, as the first expedition had cost many men and the second much ironey, conceived the ingenious idea of ng these wolves into shepherds. It paid the Afridis to guard th Ives. The system has succeeded Tavans e no longer pil d, the rout s as safe as possible—not quite as much a the I de VOpera or Piceadilly—but acci- dents are rare, and, as Darmesteter humo: the Afridis have definitively the path of civilization, which substitution of regulated for irregu- lar exploitation.” During fifteen years things have progressed. | Without the being any species of assimilation, for tt Afridis are now as independent as formerly the English have improved thetr military or police For some years these nrolled in named the Khyber r the coatrol, if not under the orders, of Colonel Warburton, » eminent man whom England has luc : 3 ly twenty years After Reind Frem Harper's Magazine. One of the Kindest, most thoughtful things that human being & did for hi own kind is what the Norse Touristfe ning, or Norwegian Alpine Club, has done for hunters in building Ittle wooden huts here and there in the Jotunheim of Nor- way, and in stowing them a in deep valleys out of the force of the arctic bliz- zards that play over the country every few days. Entering one of these huts in the evening—if we lucky enough to come up with one—Vigdal acted as interpreter between us and one or two women, who, with their husbands, keep them open for three months in the year. Sitting close by the fireplace, we were invariably furnishe with the same meal. The first night at th hut on Lake Tyin, after we had worked northward into the Jotunheim from Skog- stad, they gave us boiled eggs to start with, Where eggs could come from in this land that would kill a hen in twenty-four hours was a profcund mystery, until Vigdal in- formed us that the club had a custom of purchasing three thousand eggs in March and April, and distributing them among the huts at that time. It is conceivable, therefore, that there eggs eaten in Se ber were approaching crabbed age, ot they were the best part of the supper. With them came hand in hand seven kinds of sse—goats’ milk cheese, cows’ millc cheese, brown, white, blue cheese, hard cheese, soft cheese, and buttery che until cheese became a word to excite wrath in our souls. The bread was unleav- ened and hard. Butter there was no: Indeed, there was nothing else but dried salmon; and yet those huts becam friends for which we dev: fection, and the food appeared wond in our eyes after twenty-four hours of fast- ing. - Speaks With Authority. From the Philadelphia North American Depend upon it, where there's smoke there's fire.” “Why do you say that "ve proved it. It ws Ainst the ruled to smoke in our offi 1 smoked, and was fired.” Labor Time THE SAVED BY GON or WaAsHING PowoER ‘What more can be asked? Only this; ask your grocer for it, and insist on trying it. Largest package—greatest economy. THE N. K. FAIRBANK COMPANY, Chicago, * St. Louis, New York, Boston, Philadelphia. ae WOODBURY.S Grand Toilet Combination for the Skin, Scalp, Com- a and Teeth. Woodbury’s Facial Soap, Facial m, Facial Powder and Dental Ceam are mann- factured by a Dermatologist with 26 years’ eaperi- ence treating the skin, scalp and complexion. For sale everywhere. 25c. each. A sai ‘of exch mailed on of 2c. JOHN H. WOODBURY, Dermat 127 West 424 st.. N.Y. NGRAVING «