"Mr. Mallock," he said, "those are very brave words. But I think they
are not worthy of a man of your parts. For consider; were you not sent
here by the Holy Father to help a poor sinner who had need of it? And is
it Catholic charity to leave the sinner because of his sins?"
I said nothing to that; for I was all confounded at his mildness. I
suppose I had braced myself for something very different.
"It is true I am not a Catholic; but were you not sent here, in answer
to my entreaty, that you might help to make it easy for me to become
one? Is it apostolic, then, to run away so soon--"
"If Your Majesty," I burst out, "would but shew some signs--"
He lifted his eyebrows at that.
"Signs! In these days?" he said. "Why, I should hang, myself, in a
week's time! Are these the days, think you, to shew Catholicism? Why; do
you not think that my own heart is not near broken with all I have had
to do?"
He spoke with extraordinary passion; for that was his way when he was
very deeply moved (which, to tell the truth, however, was not very
often). But I have never known a man so careless and indolent on the
surface, who had a softer heart than His Sacred Majesty, if it could but
be touched.
"The blood of God's priests," he cried, holding the arms of his chair so
that it shook--"their blood cries from the ground against me! Do you
think I do not know that? Yet what can I do? I am tied and bound by
circumstance. I could not save them; and in the attempt I could only
lose my own life or throne as well. The people are mad for their blood!
Why Scroggs himself said in public at one of the trials, that even the
King's Mercy could not come between them and death. And it is at this
moment, then, that the servants to whom I had looked to help me, leave
me! Go if you will, Mr. Mallock, and save your own soul. You shall have
a safe passage to France; but never again speak to me of Catholic
charity."
Every word that he said rang true in my heart. It was true indeed, as he
said, that no effort of his could have saved the men, and he could only
have perished himself. There were scores of men, even among his own
guards, I have no doubt, who would have killed him if he had shewn at
this time the least mercy, or the least inclination towards Catholicism.
His back was to the wall; he fought not for himself only, but for
Monarchy itself in England. There would have been an end of all, and we
back again under the tyranny of the Commonwealth if he had acted
otherwise; or as I had thought that he would.
He had scarcely finished when I was on my knees before him.
"Sir," I cried, "I am heartily ashamed of myself. I ask pardon for all
that I have said. I will go to France or to anywhere else; and will
think myself honoured by it, and by the forgiveness of Your Majesty.
Sir; let me be your servant once more."
The passion was gone from his face as he looked down on me there; and he
was, as before, the great Prince, with his easy manner and his
unimaginable charm.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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