Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Fiction
There was, however, another and more threatening possibility of
encounter. He remembered that Mr. Delaware, the master of his horse, had
lately removed to that part of the house: and the fear came upon him
lest his blind son, who frequently turned night into day in his love for
the organ, and was uncertain in his movements between chapel and
chamber, the direct way being that just described, should by evil chance
appear at the very moment of the king's passing, and alarm him--for
through the gallery Dr. Bayly must lead his majesty to reach my lord
Privy-seal's chamber. The marquis, therefore, although reluctant to
introduce another even to the externals of the plot, felt that the
assistance of a second confidant was more than desirable, and turning
the matter over, could think of no one whom he could trust so well, and
who at the same time would, if seen, be so little liable to the sort of
suspicion he dreaded, as Dorothy. He therefore sent for her, told her as
much as he thought proper, gave her the key of his private passage to
the gallery, leading across the top of the hall-door, the only direct
communication from the southern side of the castle, and generally kept
closed, and directed her to be in the gallery ten minutes before eleven,
to lock the door at the top of the stair leading down into the hall, and
take her stand in the window at the foot of the stair from the
bell-tower, where the door was without a lock, and see that no one
entered by order of the marquis for the king's repose, enjoining upon
her that, whatever she saw or heard from any other quarter, she must
keep perfectly still, nor let any one discover that she was there. With
these instructions, his lordship, considerably relieved, dismissed her,
and went to lie down upon his bed, and have a nap if he could. He had
already given the chaplain the key of his chamber, the door of which he
always locked, that he might enter and wake him when the appointed hour
was at hand.
As soon as he began to feel that eleven o'clock was drawing near, Dr.
Bayly proceeded to reconnoitre. The marquis's plan, although he could
think of none better, was not altogether satisfactory, and it was to his
relief that he found nobody in the dining-room. When he entered the
drawing-room, however, there, to his equal annoyance, he saw in the
light of one expiring candle the dim figure of a lady; he could not
offer HER the keys of the wine-cellar! What was he to do? What could she
be there for? He drew nearer, and, with a positive pang of relief,
discovered that it was Dorothy. A word was enough between them. But the
good doctor was just a little annoyed that a second should share in the
secret of the great ones.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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