Great Britain -- History -- Charles I, 1625-1649 -- Fiction
"Belike, that will be the best way," rejoined the Prince, well knowing
what was hinted at. "I come to be of your mind, Colonel. But now,
return to the escort. Give directions for their going into quarters.
See that sentries are set round the house, with outlying pickets. We
cannot be too careful, though Monmouth is in our hands. When you have
everything settled, come to me inside. Then we can talk about further
action."
Light of heart, Lunsford proceeded to the execution of the orders thus
given. By the Prince's manner--and speech, half admitting--he saw that
the latter had received a rebuff, and was in the mood for violence, even
to outrage. It would be nothing new to him; nor the first time for the
ex-Lieutenant of the Tower to be his aid and companion in such a
criminal escapade as that they were now contemplating.
Verily were Ambrose Powell's daughters in danger! And a danger neither
had conception or suspicion of.
CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT.
A MESSENGER DESPATCHED.
The girls had gone upstairs, their maid, Gwenthian, attending upon them
to dress for dinner, of which something had been said to the Prince when
parting with him at the door.
Once inside the dressing-room, however, Sabrina, instead of proceeding
to change her attire, made direct for an _escritoire_, the flap of which
she pulled open. Then seating herself before it, she drew a sheet of
paper from its drawer, and commenced writing with nervous haste.
A letter it was of no very great length, and in a few seconds finished.
But before folding it up she turned to the maid saying,--
"Gwenth! Go down to the back door, and stay about there till you see
cadger Jack's sister. I expect her to come up to the house; and if
nothing has hindered, she should be here very soon now. When she
arrives bring her to me, without losing a moment. Do it all quietly."
Gwenth signified her comprehension of the orders, and was about starting
to execute them, when her mistress said, "Stay!" Then, after reflecting
a moment, added,--
"Go into the kitchen, and tell the cook dinner is not to be served
before Winny goes away--that is, if she come. In any case, it's not to
be put on the table till she has further directions about it."
"But must we really dine along with him?" asked Vaga, as the maid passed
out of the room. She had commenced making her toilette, and,
inattentive to what her sister had been doing, only overheard what she
said about the dinner.
"Either that or give offence. I had to speak of dinner--could not help
it--and the Prince will expect us to sit at the table."
"I'd rather sit down with Beelzebub. Oh, Sab! you can't conceive what a
vile, vulgar man--Prince though he be."
"Yes I can; know it. Richard has told me all about him. But we must
bear, and dissemble; do our best to entertain both him and his officers.
I think we needn't fear any special rudeness just yet; and if we can
keep them to their good behaviour for twelve hours I ask no more."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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