Evening star., 1897-07-31
"SHRE SBU RY. -
BY STANLEY ]. WEYMAN.

Written for The Evening Star
Continued From Last Saturdays Star.
Il understand, my lady. that you are say
ing things which are not fitting for me to
hear" the man answered in a tone of cold
displeasure. THE King. thank God, is
| WELL When he ails 1t will be time to talk
of his succession"
ut will be a little late them she re-
torted. In the meantime, and to please
| me"
Madam, anything else"
You have not yet heard what 1 pro-
pose," she cried shrilly ITO please me set
your hand to note which I will see safely
delivered in the proper quarter. promising
nothing in the kings nfeume-there!-but
| only that in the event of his death you will
support a restoration"
Il cannot do It," he answered.
why rot? You have done as much be-
FORE" she rejoined with heat.
1t may be; and beer forgiven by the
best master man ever fadr'
who feels nothing forgives easily she
sneered.
But not twice." he said gravely. 1.-The
king"
Which king?"
THE only king I acknowledge" he an
swered unmoved HE knows. believe me-
far more than you give him credit for; and
it were well If your friends bethought them
OF that before it be too late. He has wink
ed at much and forgiven moreno one
knows 1t better than I-but he Is not blind
ed, and there is a point. madam, beyond
which he can be as steadfast to punish as
your king. And If Sir John Fenwick, who
/ know well, is in England"
But at that she cut him short in pas
sion which l doubt not she had curbed as
long as 1t was In her impetuous nature to
curb anything. odds my lifer" she cried,
ana at the sound Of her voice uplfted in
shrek of anger. the woman listening be-
side me raised her face to mine and smiled
cruel triumph. odds my life. your king
and my king! Kings indeed! Why mani
kin, how many kings do you thing there
are? By Cd, Master Charles, you will
learn one CT these days that there Is but
one king, sent by God; one king, and no
more, and that his yea and nay are life and
death! You fool, you! 1 tell you you are
trembling or the edge, you are tottering!
dav, wek, month, at most and you
fall, unless you clutch at the chance of
safety 1 offer you! Sign the note! Sign
the note, man. No one but the king and
Middleton shall know of 1t, and when the
day comes as comes it will. it shall avail
you"
Never, madam; never" was the cold an
swer. So much 1 heard and my lady's
oath and volley of abuse; but in the midst
of these, and while she still ragged, my COM
panion, satisfied. l suppose, with what she
had learned, ard assured that her lady
would not get her way. twitched my sleeve.
and softly taking up the lamp, signed to
me to go before her. / obeyed, nothing
loath. and. regaining the small ante room
by which l had entered. found the man
Smith awaiting U.S.
When they had whispered together ''Tll
see you home, Mr. Taylor" said he, some
what grimly. And tomorrow 1 will call
and talk business. What we want you to
do is a very simple matter
1T is simply that my lady's son Is
fool" the woman cried snappishly.
Well he said, smilingly. Il should
hardly call my Lord shaftesbury that"
The woman screamed and clapped her
ho and To har hpIh linz 6fnfp
she cried. You have let 1t out"
He stood gaping. Good Lord!' he said
You have let it out with a vengeance
now!' she repeated furiously.
He looked FOOLISH and at last, "He did
not hear" he said.
Hear? He heard. unless he is deafr'
she retorted. you may lay your account
with that. For me, I'll leave you. You
have done the mischief and may mend It,"
Chapter XVIII.
But as the spoken word has sometimes the
permanence which proverbs attach to the
Littera scripta, and is only confirmed by
bungling essays to erase 1t, so 1t was In
this case, Mr.. Smiths endeavors to. ex-
plain away the fact which he had care
lessly blabbed only serving to impress it
the more deeply ON my memory.
1t would seem that he was partly aware
Of this, for not only did his lame attempts
lack the dexterity which should have ex-
pected from one whose features seemed to
augur much experience of the world, but
he quickly gave up the attempt as labor In
vain, and gruffiy bidding me go before to
the coach. followed me and took his seat
beside The night was overcast, the
neighborhood seemed to be rural, and start
ing from unknown point, l had less
chance than before Of tracing the devious
lanes and streets through which we drove.
so that when the coach stopped in a part
of the town more frequented, 1 had not
<h< fInot yknnra vINrn
had been.
You can get home from here" said he.
still ruf1led and scarcely able to speak to
me cvilly.
Then 1 saw as I went to descend that we
were near the end of Holborn. in the Ty
burn road, where it grows to country. Il
will see you tomorrow, he cried. And
mind you. in the meantime, the less you
say to Ferguson the better. my man."
With which the coach drove away toward
Kensington, leaving me standing against
the wall of st. Giles pound.
Released at last, alone and free to con-
slider what had happened to NE. found
difficulty in tracing where I had been,
but none at all in following the drift of the
strange scene and stranger conversation at
which had been present. Even the plans
of those who had conveyed me to that
place were transparent 1t needed no Sol
omon to discern that in the man Smith and
the woman Montiret the young lord had
two foes in his mothers household as dan
gerous as foes could be; the woman moved
as l con5ectured by that spreta injuriae
formae Of which the great Roman poet
speaks. and the man by l know not what
old wrong or jealousy.
1t was plain that these two, to obtain
their own ends. were urging on the mother
most pertous policy; that, mean, OF
compromising the son with the Jacobite
court. so that he might be cut off from st.
James; and that as he could not be In
duced to such a treasona BILE step as would
serve their ends, advantage was to be TAX
Ell of some likeness that I bore to him
(Which Smith had observed the previous
evening in Covent Garden) to personate
| !