“Then she is not for you. Wait a moment, my sweet Bucks. I have no illusions as to what you mean by direct measures. You are probably more sober than I am; but then I am more intelligent than you. Out of my intelligence let me inform your sobriety.” “Oh, come to the point.” “I am coming to it. If you mean to carry the girl off, I’ll be reminding you that at law it’s a hanging matter.” The Duke stared at him in disdainful amazement. Then he uttered a sharp laugh of derision. “At law? Pray, my good George, what have I to do with the law?” “By which you mean that you are above it.” “That is where usually I have found myself.” “Usually. The times are not usual. The times are monstrous unusual. Rochester, no doubt, thought as you do when he carried off Miss Mallet on Friday night. Yet Rochester is in the Tower in consequence.” “And you think they’ll hang him?” Buckingham sneered. “No. They won’t hang him, because the abduction was an unnecessary piece of buffoonery--because he is ready to mend Miss Mallet’s honour by marrying her.” “Let me perish, George, but you’re more drunk than I thought. Miss Mallet is a person of importance in the world with powerful friends....” “Miss Farquharson, too, has friends. Betterton is her friend, and he wields a deal of influence. You don’t lack for enemies to stir things up against you....” “Oh, but a baggage of the theatre!” Buckingham was incredulously scornful. “These baggages of the theatre are beloved of the people, and the mood of the people of London at present is not one I should care to ruffle were I Duke of Buckingham. There is a war to excite them, and the menace of the plague to scare them into making examinations of conscience. There are preachers, too, going up and down the Town, proclaiming that this is a visitation of God upon the new Sodom. The people are listening. They are beginning to point to Whitehall as the source of all the offences that have provoked the wrath of Heaven. And they don’t love you, Bucks, any more than they love me. They don’t understand us, and--to be plain--our names, yours and mine and several others, are beginning to stink in their nostrils. Give them such an argument as this against you, and they’ll see the law fulfilled. Never doubt that. The English are an easy-going people on the surface, which has led some fools to their undoing by abusing them. The spot where His Majesty’s father lost his head is within easy view of these windows. “And so I tell you that the thing which you intend to do, which would be fraught with risks at any time, is certain destruction to you at this present. The very eminence upon which you count for safety would prove your undoing. The fierce light that beats upon a throne beats upon those who are about it. A more obscure man might do this thing with less risk to himself than you would run.”