The Touchstone of Fortune: Being the Memoir of Baron Clyde, Who Lived, Thrived, and Fell in the Doleful Reign of the So-called Merry Monarch, Charles IIMajor, Charles
History
The Touchstone of Fortune: Being the Memoir of Baron Clyde, Who Lived, Thrived, and Fell in the Doleful Reign of the So-called Merry Monarch, Charles II
Major, Charles
Great Britain -- History -- Charles II, 1660-1685 -- Fiction
"No, no! Odds fish, man, no! But find a way to bring them together,
and your reward will come later. I choose, you for this little piece of
business because you are in no way connected with the affair between the
French king and me, and because I know you are to be trusted."
I to be trusted! So was Brutus!
"I shall do my best, your Majesty, and if I fail, I shall notify you at
once," I said, taking my leave.
I hastened to De Grammont's house, which at that time was over near the
Mall, and told the count what the king had said.
"Ah, that is good!" cried De Grammont. "A fool, who knows himself to be a
fool, is likely to be wary, but one who deems himself wise is the easiest
dupe in the world. I'll see Monsieur l'Abbé. Wait."
De Grammont returned in a few minutes, saying that the Abbé would go with
me to see Doctor Lilly, and I suggested that I return for him in three
hours.
I went back to Whitehall, where I found Frances, and told her to be at
Lilly's house on the Strand within three hours, to meet the French king's
ambassador, and to receive the instructions which George's letter had
intimated the Abbé would give. I told her, also, that the Abbé was not
the person we had expected to see.
The evening before, she was ready to die of fright because we believed
that the Abbé was George Hamilton, and now, since I had found he was not,
she was ready to die of disappointment--so she assured me.
At the appointed time, De Grammont, the Abbé, and I took the count's
barge and went down to the water stairs nearest Temple Bar, where the
Abbé and I left De Grammont and walked up through the crowded streets to
Lilly's house. Owing to the crowded condition of the street, the Abbé and
I found no opportunity to exchange words until we were before Lilly's
house.
Lilly was at home, I having sent word of our coming, so when we knocked,
the servant opened and directed us to the waiting parlor, saying that the
Doctor would soon come down.
We started upstairs, I in the lead, the Abbé following ten paces behind.
When I entered the room, I found Bettina and Frances sitting by the
street window. They came to me quickly, and Frances explained Bettina's
presence.
"I did not like to come here alone, so I asked Betty to come with me. She
is to be trusted."
"You need not assure me of that," I answered, taking Betty's hand. "I
already know it. I am glad you--"
But here I was interrupted by a soft cry from Bettina, and by a
half-smothered scream from Frances, both of whom deserted me suddenly
and ran toward the door I had just entered. Turning, I saw Frances with
her arms about the Abbé's neck, and Bettina clasping one of his hands.
I thought the two had gone mad, but when Bettina saw my look of surprise
and inquiry, she dropped his hand, came to me, and asked:--
"Did you want us to pretend that we did not know him? If so, you should
have told us."
"But you don't know him," I declared.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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