Great Britain -- History -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction
Evidently the report gave complete satisfaction. It was received with
roars of laughter and a burst of eager questioning, and in a very short
space of time the officer reappeared below, and requested Cicely, with a
great show of politeness, to accompany him to the presence of the lord
justice.
"I have so favourably reported to his lordship, madame, that he is as
eager to see you as ever you can be to see him; indeed, ’tis yourself
should be the most powerful advocate."
"You are very kind, sir," faltered Cicely.
The man’s manner made her shudder, but as she turned to accompany him
upstairs, followed by the reluctant Prudence, her heart leaped in
triumph at having so easily overcome the first obstacle in her path.
Surely now she was on the road to success. But when her companion flung
wide the door, and bowed her elaborately into the room above, she
stopped with a low cry of astonishment and fear, and the glad triumph
died within her. For then only did she understand that her interview
was not to be, as she had supposed, with the lord chief justice alone,
in the privacy of his chamber, but that it was in the presence of these
half-drunken roysterers, whose coarse laughter heard in the street below
had stung her cheeks to crimson; it was before these drinking, jesting,
pitiless men that she must tell her tale, and urge her plea.
It was too late then to retreat, but as she stood in the doorway, and
surveyed with anxious eyes the room and the company assembled there, a
vague, inexplicable fear took possession of her heart, and involuntarily
she groped for Prue’s hand, and drew the girl closer to her side.
Down the centre of the room ran a long table, plentifully furnished with
meats and wines, at which were seated some of the officers of the troops
quartered in the town, the judges, and a sprinkling of the officials of
the circuit, and several pliable Tory gentlemen of the neighbourhood.
Candles were lighted on the table, and as their rays illumined the faces
of those who sat at meat they revealed no face that did not bear the
clear stamp of debauchery and wickedness. For even in that callous and
licentious age it would have been hard to find in all the length and
breadth of the realm a viler and more despicable coterie than this
company of noted officers, honoured judges, and highborn satellites who
sat at the board of the lord chief justice of England.
At the head of the table sat my Lord Jeffreys, the very picture now,
despite his ailment, of jovial good-humour. He had laid aside alike the
severity of the judge and the ferocity of the man, and as he lounged at
ease while the wine circulated freely, he warmed in the flattery of his
comrades, and cracking jests and capping stories, was himself the leader
and head-spring of their boisterous mirth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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