Garrick's Pupil Part 16

There was no ambiguity in this response. Esther bowed her head as if overwhelmed by a fatality. At this moment the memory of Frank crossed her mind. Again she saw that sweetly sad face with eyes which reproached her for her treason. She felt an inward anguish; it seemed to her that, following the example of the pirates of the Thames, whose cruelty she had so lately condemned, she was casting the poor boy a second time into the dark abyss that yawned to engulf him.

But she rose with a sort of rage against the thought. Had Frank ever spoken a word of love to her? Did she even know that he loved her?

And her conscience promptly replied,--

"Yes, you do know; his eyes have told you!"

Well, so be it; he did love her; but could she consider a man who possessed nothing, whose profession earned him scarce a livelihood?

Could she marry her poverty to Frank's misery? She saw herself as if depicted in two different pictures. Here, wretched, faded before her time, nursing a puny infant in a garret, bare of even the necessaries of life. In the companion picture, covered with diamonds and flowers, she was entering St James's, while the gentlemen-in-waiting bowed before her and a footman announced, "Lady Mowbray!"

When Mrs. Marsham inquired, "What will your domino be?" she answered, "Brown with blue ribbons."

That same evening aunt and niece set out for Drury Lane as usual, leaving Maud asleep in the kitchen. The shades of night had begun to gather about the little house in Tothill Fields,--a calm, balmy night towards the end of May. The strollers had gone their ways, and the gypsy camp had emigrated to another of the great tracts of waste land so numerous at that day in the suburbs of London. Save the distant rumbling from Westminster naught disturbed the peace of this countrified quarter, already dozing in the evening silence. Nevertheless, several shadows flitted along the old wall; men in groups of two and three made their way noiselessly towards the little postern gate where Esther had conversed with the gypsy. A lantern placed upon the threshold guided them towards the narrow entrance veiled in ivy. After a minute or two, which seemed carefully calculated, a new group followed the one that preceded it. Once within the garden the men seemed to hesitate, wandering here and there haphazard in the dense obscurity of the old trees. Presently Reuben's voice called to them:--

"This way, brothers!"

Thereupon they followed him, descended a stairway of seven or eight steps, and penetrated a vaulted hall, where they found all those who had preceded them united. The floor was of well-trodden earth, while the walls bore numerous traces of mould. There was nothing in the way of furniture except a few wooden benches, a table at the back, and a single lamp suspended from the ceiling, the ruddy flame of which flickered with every gust of air above their heads.

When the a.s.sembly was complete Reuben carefully closed the doors. At this moment the chamber contained some twenty men. Two among them were attired in clerical garb, but with that extreme simplicity which marked the members of dissenting churches. The remainder appeared to be either shop-keepers or laborers. Some even were in their working clothes, notably a tanner with his leathern ap.r.o.n, and a butcher with his knife hanging from his belt. One man only was attired with elegance, although the tints were sombre. His little narrow head and thin, pale face, feminine in outline, emerged from an aureole of powdered hair, and were illumined by a pair of eyes singularly close together, black, glittering, and hard, and animated by an expression of inquietude. His companions treated him with marked respect, and seemed to be of one mind in yielding him first place in everything. They addressed him as "Lord George"; in fact, he was Lord George Gordon, a Scotch n.o.bleman, who had begun to attract attention in the House of Commons by his peculiarities.

After a term of years spent in dissipation, folly, and travelling, he served in the navy, demanded a post of command from the ministry, failed to obtain it, and suddenly joined the opposition. Again, quite as brusquely changing his tactics, he put himself at the head of a party of intolerants who were opposing the repeal of the laws against the Catholics.

Lord George Gordon took his place behind the table, with one of the clergymen upon his right hand and Reuben on his left.

"Friends," he began in a very sweet and modulated tone, "our host, this worthy young man, who is animated by the spirit of G.o.d,--our friend Reuben Marsham,--informs me that an indelible memory attaches to this chamber in which we are met. When the impious Charles Stuart remounted the throne of which his father had been deprived by the anger of the Lord, and which the weakness of men had restored to the son, two fugitives were concealed here, and lived for a considerable time in this subterranean hall, existed here until, through the information of a servant, their asylum was discovered. The tyrant's soldiery dragged them forth, and they lost their heads upon the scaffold, praising G.o.d, who held their rewards in store for them. Shades of the great dead, martyrs of the holy cause, here do I salute your invisible presence! Be with us!

Inspire, protect us!"

A tremor pa.s.sed through the very bones of each auditor. Thereupon the clergyman took up the word.

"Since we are a.s.sembled for the glory of G.o.d and of His Son, let us first invoke his most holy name, my brothers; let us pray!"

He fell upon his knees; every man imitated his example with such unanimous precision that the earth gave forth a dull sound, as when at the word of command a company of soldiers grounds arms.

The clergyman intoned in a low voice the psalm beginning, "By the rivers of Babylon."

To each verse all present murmured a response, toning their rough, harsh voices. When the last _amen_ had been p.r.o.nounced Lord George remarked, "Friends, none among us is ignorant of our purpose in coming hither to-night. For the sake of those of us who have not been present at our previous reunions, I will in brief rehea.r.s.e the facts. Aided by a d.a.m.nable philosophy, impiety has made great progress in our midst, disguised at present under the new name of tolerance. Thanks to these circ.u.mstances, Rome has reared her head. The great courtesan seeks to queen it among us with unveiled face and lofty brow. Sons of the saints, will you permit it?"

"No!" responded twenty voices.

"You are aware that a bill has been presented to the House of Commons annulling the penal laws against the Catholics. I have raised my voice in protest, but my words have been choked in my throat and I have been treated as a fool. Both parties are united against us!"

Varied exclamations greeted these words.

"Burke is a Jesuit in disguise!"

"Fox is a scapegrace, a drunkard, a gambler!"

"Lord North's only thought is to fill his pockets and his stomach!"

"The Parliament is rotten to the core!"

"We must appeal to the king!" cried one.

"I have thought of that," said Lord George, "and I brought him one of the pamphlets which I have published on the subject. His Majesty listened to a part of it, and promised to read the rest. That was many months ago, and still I have no response from him."

"The king," observed the clergyman upon Gordon's right, "has no power to interfere in the resolutions of Parliament and in the legal vote."

"Is he prevented," burst out Reuben impetuously, "when some policy of his own is at stake, or when he wishes to depose some minister who has displeased him?"

Thereupon the tanner boldly advanced.

"The king is playing us false!" said he. "A while ago he went to dinner with Lord Petre. Now, do you know who this Lord Petre is? A determined papist! He is the grand-nephew of that same Father Petre who brought to the palace in a warming-pan that miller's son whom they presented as the Prince of Wales, and whom they have since called the knight of Saint George!"

"That's neither here nor there."

"Wait!" continued the tanner with unruffled obstinacy. "When one is the friend of a papist, one is nigh to becoming a papist. Who knows whether the king is not already baptized!"

"It is certain in any case," interrupted Reuben, "that we have only ourselves to depend upon. Unless we intimidate the House of Commons the law will be pa.s.sed."

"Yes," a.s.sented Lord George, "that is the truth. I have given notice that on Friday I intend to lay our pet.i.tion before Parliament, and that I shall have two hundred thousand men to back me. You don't propose to fail me, do you?"

"Certainly not!" cried the clergyman. "Each one of us is good for ten thousand; we will answer for our neighborhoods."

"Will the Methodists march?" inquired Reuben.

"Every mother's son of them," replied a voice. "John Wesley has declared against tolerance."

"In that case," said Gordon, "success is a.s.sured. We will meet at Saint George's Fields at ten o'clock; there the final arrangements will be made. Neglect no detail, brothers, which will tend to make our manifestation imposing, grand, and irresistible. Infiltrate every soul with the fire which animates you. Let the voice of the people, which is the voice of G.o.d, be heard. For a century pious England has slept, lulled by the indifference of mechanical practices, mercantile preoccupations, ambitious intrigues, and worldly pleasures. The sun of the morrow should s.h.i.+ne upon her awakening, and this awakening should be so sudden, so powerful, as to terrify the enemies of G.o.d. Let our warcry be that of our ancestors, 'To your tents, O Israel!'"

"Brothers," said the clergyman in his turn, "let us intone the song of the Hebrews, when G.o.d delivered them out of the land of Egypt,--_Cantemus Domino_!"

They sang, always _sotto voce_, but the sustained accent of those deep voices lent to the terrible words their full energy.

"O G.o.d, thou hast crushed thine enemies. The sea has swallowed them up; they have fallen into the depths like a stone. Thou hast sent thine anger upon them; it has consumed them like straw. The enemy hath said, I will pursue them, I will fall upon them, I will share their spoils, I will slay them with my sword, and I will be master. But thou hast sent thy breath upon them, and they have been swallowed up as lead in a raging sea. O Lord, what G.o.d is like unto thee!"

They sang, and a very tempest of enthusiasm whistled among their bowed heads. A sort of heroic madness raised their commonplace souls quite out of themselves. They fancied that they felt the spirit of the Lord upon them; not the G.o.d of pity, who blesses and pardons, raises the fallen, makes the sinner a saint, wipes away tears, heals the wounded, promises peace to the weary, glory to the humble, love to the forsaken, heaven to all such as the earth has wounded and made desperate, but a powerful, jealous, revengeful G.o.d, a G.o.d who seeks b.l.o.o.d.y holocausts, and pursues in the children the sins of the father, in the infant at the breast the iniquities of vanished generations.

"The day of glory is at hand!" cried Reuben. "Happy are they who perish in the combat!"

"Amen!" was the universal response.

And with that word they dispersed.

CHAPTER XI.

THE DAY OF DAYS.