the path of the king-第38节

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　Kings；　he　had　saidof　France；　or　somewhere　。　。　。　A　gold　ring　he　wore　on　his　left　hand　slipped　from　his　finger　and　jingled　on　the　hearthstone。　It　was　too　big　for　him；　and　when　his　fingers　grew　small　with　cold　or　wet　it　was　apt　to　fall　off。　He　picked　it　up　and　laid　it　beside　the　decanters　on　the　table。　That　had　been　his　father's　ring；　and　he　congratulated　himself　that　in　all　his　necessities　he　had　never　parted　from　it。　It　was　said　to　have　come　down　from　ancient　kings。

He　turned　to　the　table　and　cut　himself　a　slice　of　ham。　But　he　found　he　had　no　appetite。　He　filled　himself　a　bumper　of　claret。　It　was　a　ripe　velvety　liquor　and　cooled　his　hot　mouth。　That　was　the　drink　for　gentlemen。　Brandy　in　good　time；　but　for　the　present　this　soft　wine　which　was　in　keeping　with　the　warmth　and　light　and　sheen　of　silver。　。　。　。　　His　excitement　was　dying　now　into　complacence。　He　felt　himself　in　the　environment　for　which　Providence　had　fitted　him。　His　whole　being　expanded　in　the　glow　of　it。　He　understood　how　able　he　was；　how　truly　virtuousa　master　of　intrigue；　but　one　whose　eye　was　always　fixed　on　the　star　of　honour。　And　then　his　thoughts　wandered　to　his　son　in　the　mean　London　lodgings。　The　boy　should　have　his　chance　and　walk　some　day　in　silks　and　laces。　Curse　his　aliases！　He　should　be　Lovel；　and　carry　his　head　as　high　as　any　Villiers　or　Talbot。

The　reflection　sent　his　hand　to　an　inner　pocket　of　the　coat　now　drying　by　the　hearth。　He　took　from　it　a　thin　packet　of　papers　wrapped　in　oil…cloth。　These　were　the　fruits　of　his　journey；　together　with　certain　news　too　secret　to　commit　to　writing　which　he　carried　in　his　head。　He　ran　his　eye　over　them；　approved　them；　and　laid　them　before　him　on　the　table。　They　started　a　train　of　thought　which　brought　him　to　the　question　of　his　present　quarters。　。　。　。　　A　shadow　of　doubt　flickered　over　his　mind。　Whose　house　was　this　and　why　this　entertainment？　He　had　been　expected；　or　someone　like　him。　An　old　campaigner　took　what　gifts　the　gods　sent；　but　there　might　be　questions　to　follow。　There　was　a　coat　of　arms　on　the　plate；　but　so　dim　that　he　could　not　read　it。　The　one　picture　in　the　room　showed　an　old　man　in　a　conventional　suit　of　armour。　He　did　not　recognise　the　face　or　remember　any　like　it。　。　。　　　He　filled　himself　another　bumper　of　claret；　and　followed　it　with　a　little　brandy。　This　latter　was　noble　stuff；　by　which　he　would　abide。　His　sense　of　ease　and　security　returned。　He　pushed　the　papers　farther　over；　sweeping　the　ring　with　them；　and　set　his　elbows　on　the　table；　a　gentleman　warm；　dry；　and　content；　but　much　befogged　in　the　brain。

He　raised　his　eyes　to　see　the　far　door　open　and　three　men　enter。　The　sight　brought　him　to　his　feet　with　a　start；　and　his　chair　clattered　on　the　oak　boards。　He　made　an　attempt　at　a　bow；　backing　steadily　towards　the　fireplace　and　his　old　coat。

The　faces　of　the　new…comers　exhibited　the　most　lively　surprise。　All　three　were　young；　and　bore　marks　of　travel；　for　though　they　had　doffed　their　riding　coats；　they　were　splashed　to　the　knees　with　mud　and　their　unpowdered　hair　lay　damp　on　their　shoulders。　One　was　a　very　dark　man　who　might　have　been　a　Spaniard　but　for　his　blue　eyes。　The　second　was　a　mere　boy　with　a　ruddy　face　and　eyes　full　of　dancing　merriment。　The　third　was　tall　and　red…haired；　tanned　of　countenance　and　lean　as　a　greyhound。　He　wore　trews　of　a　tartan　which　Mr。　Lovel；　trained　in　such　matters；　recognised　as　that　of　the　house　of　Atholl。

Of　the　three　he　only　recognised　the　leader；　and　the　recognition　sobered　him。　This　was　that　Talbot；　commonly　known　from　his　swarthiness　as　the　Crow；　who　was　Ormonde's　most　trusted　lieutenant。　He　had　once　worked　with　him；　he　knew　his　fierce　temper；　his　intractable　honesty。　His　bemused　wits　turned　desperately　to　concocting　a　conciliatory　tale。

But　he　seemed　to　be　unrecognised。　The　three　stared　at　him　in　wild…eyed　amazement。

Who　the　devil　are　you；　sir？〃　the　Highlander　stammered。

Mr。　Lovel　this　time　brought　off　his　bow。　〃A　stormstayed　traveller；〃　he　said；　his　eyes　fawning；　〃who　has　stumbled　on　this　princely　hospitality。　My　name　at　your　honour's　service　is　Gabriel　Lovel。〃

There　was　a　second　of　dead　silence　and　then　the　boy　laughed。　It　was　merry　laughter　and　broke　in　strangely　on　the　tense　air　of　the　room。

〃Lovel；〃　he　cried；　and　there　was　an　Irish　burr　in　his　speech。　〃Lovel！　And　that　fool　Jobson　mistook　it　for　Lovat！　I　mistrusted　the　tale；　for　Simon　is　too　discreet　even　in　his　cups　to　confess　his　name　in　a　changehouse。　It　seems　we　have　been　stalking　the　cailzie…cock　and　found　a　common　thrush。〃

The　dark　man　Talbot　did　not　smile。　〃We　had　good　reason　to　look　for　Lovat。　Widrington　had　word　from　London　that　he　was　on　his　way　to　the　north　by　the　west　marches。　Had　we　found　him　we　had　found　a　prize；　for　he　will　play　hell　with　Mar　if　he　crosses　the　Highland　line。　What　say　you；　Lord　Charles？〃

The　Highlander　nodded。　〃I　would　give　my　sporran　filled　ten　times　with　gold　to　have　my　hand　on　Simon。　What　devil's　luck　to　be　marching　south　with　that　old　fox　in　our　rear！〃

The　boy　pulled　up　a　chair　to　the　table。　〃Since　we　have　missed　the　big　game；　let　us　follow　the　less。　I'm　for　supper；　if　this　gentleman　will　permit　us　to　share　a　feast　destined　for　another。　Sit　down；　sir；　and　fill　your　glass。　You　are　not　to　be　blamed　for　not　being　a　certain　Scots　lord。　Lovel；　I　dare　say；　is　an　honester　name　than　Lovat！〃

But　Talbot　was　regarding　the　traveller　with　hard　eyes。　〃You　called　him　a　thrush；　Nick；　but　I　have　a　notion　he　is　more　of　a　knavish　jackdaw。　I　have　seen　this　gentleman　before。　You　were　with　Ormonde？〃

〃I　had　once　the　honour　to　serve　his　Grace；〃　said　Lovel；　still　feverishly　trying　to　devise　a　watertight　tail。　〃Ah；　I　remember　now。　You　thought　his　star　descending　and　carried　your　wares　to　the　other　side。　And　who　is　your　new　employer；　Mr。　Lovel？　His　present　Majesty？〃

His　glance　caught　the　papers　on　the　table　and　he　swept　them　towards　him。

〃What　have　we　here？〃　and　his　quick　eye　scanned　the　too　legible　handwriting。　Much　was　in　cipher　and　contractions；　but　some　names　stood　out　damningly。　In　that　month　of　October　in　that　year　1715　〃Ke〃　could　only　stand　for　〃Kenmure〃　and　〃Ni〃　for　〃Nithsdale。〃

Mr。　Lovel　made　an　attempt　at　dignity。

〃These　are　my　papers；　sir；〃　he　blustered。　〃I　know　not　by　what　authority　you　examine　them。〃　But　his　protest　failed　because　of　the　instability　of　his　legs；　on　which　his　potations　early　and　recent　had　suddenly　a　fatal　effect。　He　was　compelled　to　collapse　heavily　in　the　arm…chair　by　the　hearth。

〃I　observe　that　the　gentleman　has　lately　been　powdering　his　hair；〃　said　the　boy　whom　they　called　Nick。

Mr。　Lovel　was　wroth。　He　started　upon　the　usual　drunkard's　protestations；　but　was　harshly　cut　short　by　Talbot。

〃You　ask　me　my　warrant　'Tis　the　commission　of　his　Majesty　King　James　in　whose　army　I　have　the　honour　to　hold　a　command。〃

He　read　on；　nodding　now　and　then；　pursing　his　mouth　at　a　word；　once　copying　something　on　to　his　own　tablets。　Suddenly　he　raised　his　head。

〃When　did　his　Grace　dismiss　you？〃　he　asked。

Now　Ormonde　had　been　the　Duke　last　spoken　of；　but　Mr。　Lovel's　precarious　wits　fell　into　the　trap。　He　denied　indignantly　that　he　had　fallen　from　his　master's　favour。

A　grim　smile　played　round　Talbot's　mouth。

You　have　confessed；〃　he　said。　Then　to　the　others：　This　fellow　is　one　of　Malbrouck's　pack。　He　has　been　nosing　in　the　Scotch　westlands。　Here　are　the　numbers　of　Kenmure　and　Nithsdale　to　enable　the　great　Duke　to　make　up　his　halting　mind。　See；　he　has　been　with　Roxburghe　too。　。　。　。　　We　have　a　spy　before　us；　gentlemen；　delivered　to　our　hands　by　a　happy　incident。　Whig　among　the　sectaries　and　with　Stair　and　Roxburghe；　and　Jacobite　among　our　poor　honest　folk；　and　wheedling　the　secrets　out　of　both　sides　to　sell　to　one　who　disposes　of　them　at　a　profit　in　higher　quarters。　Faug！　I　know　the　vermin。　An　honest　Whig　like　John　Argyll　I　can　respect　and　fight；　but　for　such　rats　as　this　What　shall　we　do　with　it　now　that　we　have　trapped　it？〃

〃Let　it　go；〃　said　the　boy；　Nick　Wogan。　〃The　land　crawls　with　them　and　we　cannot　go　rat…hunting　when　we　are　aiming　at　a　throne。〃　He　picked　up　Lovel's　ring　and　spun　it　on　a　finger　tip。　〃The　gentleman　has　found　more　than　news　in　the　north。　He　has　acquired　a　solid　lump　of　gold。〃

The　implication　roused　Mr。　Lovel　out　of　his　embarrassment。　〃I　wear　the　ring　by　right。　I　had　it　from　my　father。　His　voice　was　tearful　with　offended　pride

The　creature　claims　gentility；〃　said　Talbot；　as　he　examined　the　trinket。　〃Lovel　you　call　yourself。　But　Lovel　bears　barry　nebuly　or　chevronels。　This　coat　has　three　plain　charges。　Can　you　read　them；　Nick；　for　my　eyes　are　weak！　I　am　curious　to　know　from　whom　he　stole　it。

The　boy　scanned　it　closely。　〃Three　of　something　I　think　they　are　fleur…de…lys；　which　would　spell　Montgomery。　Or　lions'　heads；　maybe；　for　Buchan？〃

He　passed　it　to　Lord　Charles；　who　held　it　to　a　candle's　light。　〃Nay；　I　think　they　are　Cummin　garbs。　Some　poor　fellow　dirked　and　spoiled。〃

Mr。　Lovel　was　outraged　and　forgot　his　fears。　He　forgot；　indeed；　most　things　which　he　should　have　remembered。　He　longed　only　to　establish　his　gentility　in　the　eyes　of　those　three　proud　gentlemen。　The　liquor　was　ebbing　in　him　and　with　it　had　flown　all　his　complacence。　He　felt　small　and　mean　and　despised；　and　the　talents　he　ha