Should he wish to fight us upon our own ground, he must needs drain his troops from north, south, and east, which is not to be thought of. We may very well march to London by way of Bristol.'

'I think that the advice is good,' Lord Grey observed; 'but I should like to ask Colonel Saxon what warrant he hath for saying that Churchill and Feversham are on their way, with three thousand regular foot and several regiments of horse?'

'The word of an officer of the Blues with whom I conversed at Salisbury,' Saxon answered. 'He confided in me, believing me to be one of the Duke of Beaufort's household. As to the horse, one party pursued us on Salisbury Plain with bloodhounds, and another attacked us not twenty miles from here and lost a score of troopers and a cornet.'

'We heard something of the brush,' said the King. 'It was bravely done. But if these men are so close we have no great time for preparation.'

'Their foot cannot he here before a week,' said the Mayor. 'By that time we might be behind the walls of Bristol.'

'There is one point which might be urged,' observed Wade the lawyer. 'We have, as your Majesty most truly says, met with heavy discouragement in the fact that no noblemen and few commoners of repute have declared for us. The reason is, I opine, that each doth wait for his neighbour to make a move. Should one or two come over the others would soon follow. How, then, are we to bring a duke or two to our standards?'

'There's the question, Master Wade,' said Monmouth, shaking his head despondently.

'I think that it might be done,' continued the Whig lawyer. 'Mere proclamations addressed to the commonalty will not catch these gold fish. They are not to be angled for with a naked hook. I should recommend that some form of summons or writ be served upon each of them, calling upon them to appear in our camp within a certain date under pain of high treason.'

'There spake the legal mind,' quoth King Monmouth, with a laugh. 'But you have omitted to tell us how the said writ or summons is to be conveyed to these same delinquents.'

'There is the Duke of Beaufort,' continued Wade, disregarding the King's objection. 'He is President of Wales, and he is, as your Majesty knows, lieutenant of four English counties. His influence overshadows the whole West. He hath two hundred horses in his stables at Badminton, and a thousand men, as I have heard, sit down at his tables every day. Why should not a special effort be made to gain over such a one, the more so as we intend to march in his direction?'

'Henry, Duke of Beaufort, is unfortunately already in arms against his sovereign,' said Monmouth gloomily.

'He is, sire, but he may be induced to turn in your favour the weapon which he hath raised against you. He is a Protestant. He is said to be a Whig. Why should we not send a message to him? Flatter his pride. Appeal to his religion. Coax and threaten him. Who knows? He may have private grievances of which we know nothing, and may be ripe for such a move.'

'Your counsel is good, Wade,' said Lord Grey, 'but methinks his Majesty hath asked a pertinent question. Your messenger would, I fear, find himself swinging upon one of the Badminton oaks if the Duke desired to show his loyalty to James Stuart. Where are we to find a man who is wary enough and bold enough for such a mission, without risking one of our leaders, who could be ill-spared at such a time?'

'It is true,' said the King. 'It were better not to venture it at all than to do it in a clumsy and halting fashion. Beaufort would think that it was a plot not to gain him over, but to throw discredit upon him. But what means our giant at the door by signing to us?'

'If it please your Majesty,' I asked, 'have I permission to speak?'

'We would fain hear you, Captain,' he answered graciously. 'If your understanding is in any degree correspondent to your strength, your opinion should be of weight.'

'Then, your Majesty,' said I, 'I would offer myself as a fitting messenger in this matter.

Micah Clarke Page 119

Arthur Conan Doyle

Scottish Authors

Free Books in the public domain from the Classic Literature Library ©

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Classic Literature Library
Classic Authors

All Pages of This Book