Now the next morning I came, as I had been bidden, to speak with my lord marquis in his privy closet, and was received of him very courteously, and asked to wait while he made an end of his matters. And this done, I looked that he should have laid some command upon me, but he turned himself about in his chair, and began to talk with me familiarly.
“Pray, Mr Carlyon,” says he, “what do you think of my situation here? No doubt it seems to you that I have all that I could wish for, with six hundred stout fellows to do my bidding, and this fair town and palace for to dwell in.”
So greatly was I astonished by the suddenness of this question, that ’twas all I could do to answer with some hesitation that his lordship had indeed seemed to me to be highly favoured in his lot.
“So I thought,” said he, “but you must learn, sir, that power and high place are naught when there are around enemies that grudge ’em to you. And chiefly this is true of the Hollanders, that are jealous of our footing here, and would not willingly allow us even this poor little town from which to trade. But also it is true of those that are set in command under me in the conduct of this adventure, that are for ever plotting and striving to ruin me, and may yet succeed in this. They know that their power is great. Already more than one of our captains, that had proved his fidelity to me, has been summoned to France upon a sealed letter,[93] to linger out the remainder of his life in prison, and I know that the base wretches among whom my lot is cast would willingly see the same done by me. Tell me, sir, what you would consider the duty of a person of honour in such a case, whether to obey his majesty’s order, or to resist, if resistance were possible?”
“Truly, my lord,” says I, “my impulse would be to escape, if this could be done without loss of credit, though I conceive it should be most honourable to abide and receive the blow.”
“Ah!” cried he, with sudden passion, rising from his seat and walking to and fro in the chamber, “would that I had always at my side a man that I could trust! He should be related to me, if that were possible, either by blood or by marriage” (here he cast a look at my face, yet suddenly and hastily, not as doing it with intention), “and ’twould be all as well if he wan’t a Frenchman. He should be next to me in all things, and I would always seek his counsel, feeling assured that such a man was the immediate gift of heaven. What do you say, Mr Carlyon? Are you acquainted with any such person? You will think upon the matter, and if there come to your mind one that may seem to you worthy of my trust and of such a high place, you will give me to know of him.”
“Most gladly, my lord,” said I, though somewhat slowly, for he was regarding me strangely, as I thought. He remained silent for some time, his chin on his hand, and then spake again.
“Mr Carlyon, I am about to repose a great trust in you. You must perceive that I entertain the highest confidence in your honour and discretion before I should so far outrage the customs of my great nation as to prefer you to the charge I now propose to you. You have heard that a Dutch fleet has lain of late before our walls, and left us only in that hurracan that preceded your coming hither?”
“Yes, my lord,” says I. “Mr Marigny hath told me on’t.”
“Now that our harbour is once more free,” saith his lordship, “it is in my mind to go out with the ships that are left us, and voyage along the coast, seeking whether there be any place more propitious than this for us poor exiles. On such a voyage as this there may well be both hardship and danger, and I don’t desire that my daughter shall accompany me. She must remain here, but I am interested to leave with her a protector in whom I can repose confidence. Will you be so good as accept this office?”
“My lord,” says I, struck with amazement, “you do me a very great honour, but sure your own officers will take it very ill in me to pretend to such a post.”
“I am indifferent to that,” says he, “and you will do well to be so too. As to my officers, moreover, the most of ’em will go with me, leaving only enough to hold the place. These are generally very young, and might venture to presume upon the favour granted ’em, and as for Laborde, the commandant of the fort, to whom I should naturally have intrusted this office, he thought fit, some time ago (I am speaking to you freely and in confidence, sir), to pretend to my daughter’s hand. Mademoiselle de Tourvel rejected his vows, with my approbation, but you can well perceive, sir, how unpleasant ’twould be to her sensibilities to be brought into close relation with him.”
I made answer that I was fully sensible on’t, but at the same time, I felt myself overwhelmed by this great honour and place of trust that was thrust upon me. And truly, I can’t even now refrain from wondering at the hardihood wherewith his lordship placed me in a situation in which, had I been only half so great a villain as my enemies declare me, I might have acted even as they feign that I did. Yet I did not in the smallest degree desire to retreat from the honour that was offered me, for the blood leaped in my veins at the very thought that my arm might defend Madam Heliodora, and I became aware that I almost longed for a bloody assault to be made upon the town, that so I might die in ensuring her safety. And I am sure that my face spake for me, and conveyed what my stammering tongue could not utter, for his lordship laughed pleasantly, saying—
“It is well. You accept of the trust—an’t it so? I had read in your face, that not here should my confidence be betrayed. Are you skilled in reading the nature of men from their faces, Mr Carlyon?”
“I fear not, my lord,” says I, and indeed, I had never thought of such a thing.
“You will do well to cultivate the art,” says he. “ ’Tis one of those matters wherein he that is born a statesman hath the advantage over those that are only late become so. But now listen, if you please, to the cautions I must needs lay upon you.”
And thereupon he gave me much counsel as to the manner in which I had best carry myself towards the guard and towards the officers of the garrison, and the precaution that ought to be observed against any attempt from without, or treason from within. And having ended all his admonitions, which I was sedulous to preserve, either in my mind or on my tablets, he dismissed me, and I returning to the lodging, found there Mr Marigny, who with his servant was busy packing his clothes and other matters, for to go on board of the ships with my lord. And telling him of his lordship’s condescension, and of the honour that he purposed putting upon me, he straightway fell a-laughing, and for all that I could do, would say naught but—
“My lord is an ingenious person.”
“Truly,” said I, “I must needs believe now what I had never divined—namely, that he is also a most trustful and simple person. How otherwise could he have advanced one that was an absolute stranger to him unto such a place of trust—a trust that I would give my life sooner than betray?”
“That is it which my lord has divined,” says he. “He reads faces, and constitutions also, and ’twould seem that he has judged you as you judge your own self. He is one of those that do never fear to take a great risk when they are bent on a great purpose.”
“But what purpose hath his lordship in this?” I asked.
“Ah, that I can’t tell,” said he. “I don’t pretend to read my lord’s face, still less his purposes.”
And with that our talk upon this question ceased, and we spake only of indifferent matters until the time came that the trumpet sounded for to summon those that were to start upon this adventure, and my lord embarked at the water-gate with his following of officers, the common men and servants being already on board. Then the three ships (two being only country-built), which was all that the French now possessed at this place, made sail and stood out of the harbour, and I came to the moving my stuff, such as it was, from Mr Marigny’s lodging to that part of the palace where a chamber had been prepared me. And here was everything already set in order with great care, and divers servants appointed for to attend upon me, so that I went through the day, though solitary, in great state, such as men might use for a captive prince. But towards evening there come Madam Heliodora’s blackamoor page, praying the honour of my company to supper with the ladies, and there was I mightily entertained, her ladyship and Mad. de Chesnac conversing with me most agreeably touching those things that I had seen in divers countries, and recounting also to me their own experiences. And before I departed, the keys of the place was brought in with great respect by Colonel Laborde, and delivered to Madam Heliodora for safe keeping, and I went round the walls with him, and marked that all was quiet, and the sentinels all posted, before I returned to my lodging. And so to bed, wondering much over the events of the day, and experiencing a prodigious gratitude for the happy chance that permitted me to spend some time daily in the sweet company of that beautiful and gracious lady.
And this same happy posture of affairs continued for more than ten days, I remaining most friendly with Colonel Laborde, but never suffering him to override me in my duty with regard to the palace. And on every evening I enjoyed the extraordinary felicity of beholding Madam Heliodora and of hearing her discourse, so that I comforted myself the whole day long with considering that at night I should see her again, and gain from her that instruction and wisdom wherein she was so much better provided than I.
Now on one of these evenings it was that Mad. de Chesnac, tiring of our talk, bade Madam Heliodora take her theorba[94] and sing to us some little song. And this she did, not once only, but thrice, and with a voice and manner that was divine. And perceiving me listening to her with great admiration, she gave the theorba on a sudden to me, and begged of me to let them hear some of the songs of my country. Now my singing had used in former days to be much commended, both at Surat and at Goa, but I felt myself greatly discomposed by this command, and cast about with earnest care for the songs that I should sing. And first I sang that famous ode of Sir Henry Wotton, Knt., upon the late Queen of Bohemia, but so entirely was I occupied by the present, and not by the past, that where he had wrote Philomel, I sang Heliodore, which the ladies perceiving, they did tax me with it, and make very merry. And they considering that ’twas done for the sake of a civil artifice, and commanding that I should spoil no more of my songs for the purpose of a compliment, I did sing Mr Herrick’s beauteous song entitled To Anthea, who may command him anything. And over this Mad. de Chesnac did laugh mightily, after I had explained the words (she speaking no English, and Madam Heliodora only an indifferent amount); but my lady withdrew herself into the shade of a curtain, and seemed prodigious thoughtful, I wondering whether she discerned in my voice that ’twas to her I sang in especial. And Mad. de Chesnac demanding another song that should be more grave and profitable, I made choice of that sweet piece of the brave Colonel Lovelace’s, To Lucasta, on going beyond the seas. Now this, thought I, must tell my lady how I feel towards her, though I ben’t (at present) going beyond the seas; but to my great dismay, after I had finished, my lady rose from her place and passed quickly from the chamber, and I saw that there was tears on her face. Greatly terrified and ashamed, I looked to Mad. de Chesnac, who essayed immediately to comfort me.
“Pray don’t alarm yourself, my young friend. The sensibilities of mademoiselle are very acute, and that pathetical song of yours hath moved her to tears. But she will return immediately.”
And in truth, before many minutes was over, Madam Heliodora did return, and having offered a genteel apology for her absence, took her usual place, but blushed when she discovered me regarding her, and for the rest of the evening her eyes seemed to meet mine with a certain entreaty. And this caused me to be prodigiously tumbled up and down in my mind, so that on returning to my lodging I sat long in the gallery looking over the sea, thinking what this should mean that had passed, in the stead of going to bed. Now it may seem to you strange, but so it was, that never until this night had I entertained the expectation of seeking from this lady, whom I had so suddenly and so entirely loved, any return of my affection. But now, pondering over her words and actions, I could not resist the notion that they had spoke of love, and though for this I called myself a fool and a coxcomb, and demanded to know what there was in me to draw a lady’s fancy, and especially of such a lady, so beautiful and witty, and used to the manners of the politest of courts, yet I could not rid myself of the thought. And arriving at this conclusion, my heart leaped, and the blood coursed through my veins with so much joy, that I could scarce refrain from throwing my hat into the air, and calling out Glory be to God! after the manner of certain of the Puritan fanatics at home. But by great good fortune there come just then into my mind that look I had seen in my lady’s eyes, as if to entreat me not to betray her secret, and I resolved that I would die ere I would cause any sorrow to my sweet mistress. But nevertheless it was happy for me that the next day fell on a Sunday, so that I found no opportunity to try my lady’s feelings towards me by the singing of more songs.
It being Sunday, there was offices[95] in the churches of the town, and in that nearest the palace Mass was sung by the French priest that had accompanied his lordship hither. This was an ancient and kindly person, and forbore to press me to attend Mass when I had told him of my different faith, so that I could not but felicitate myself upon the difference that lay between the French and the Portugals in such matters. But, as all the world now knows, all the French priests are not so gentle as good Father Simon. Now as I wandered on the ramparts, desiring much some Bible or Book of Common Prayer, wherewith I might have edified my mind, there come towards me Madam Heliodora, with her little page carrying a book fastened with a silver chain, as if meant to hang from a lady’s girdle. I looked to see whether she yet remembered what had passed the night before, but her face was calm again, and she met my eye with her usual noble modesty.
“I have brought you a little book, sir,” said she, “knowing that you have here no office-book of your Church wherewith to assist your devotions. ’Tis a Hugonot book, and belonged to my grandmother, that favoured that party. For this reason I can but lend it you, since it is very precious to me; but I entreat that you will retain it so long as we have the pleasure of your company here.”
And thus speaking, she took the book from the child and gave it to me, I bowing low, and thanking her ladyship for her great kindness in so thinking upon me. And when she was departed, I did look into the book, and found it to contain the Psalter, rendered into French verse by one Mons. Clement Marot. On the first page was wrote in a woman’s hand, the ink now all faded, Charlotte Anne de Tourvel, born de Galampré, and on the margents of the leaves was there notes writ by the same hand in many places. All through the time of Mass I studied in the little book with great diligence, sitting in a shaded alcove on the wall of the palace, and listening to the tinkling of the little bells from the churches. But when I had finished, I put the book in my pocket, and set to communing with myself touching Madam Heliodora. And considering in my mind the space that I had known this lady, it seemed to me a thing incredible, as doubtless it will to you, that I had seen her for the first time little more than a week before, and that all my love was grown up in that span of time. And upon this I fell to asking myself whether it were possible that I had interpreted her actions wrongly, but remembered that all the poets and romancers were agreed that tears and blushes and deep agitation was a sign of love, and ’twas these very things that had first turned my thoughts that way. And so great was the joy that these considerations brought me, upon my now trying the dreams of the night by the wisdom of the day, that I could scarce contain myself, so that I must needs set to and walk all round the walls while the day was yet hot (a piece of extravagance that might justly have brought me a stroke of the sun), and so, being tired out, back to the palace to rest.
And the next evening I supped with the ladies as before, but we had no singing, for Madam Heliodora was silent and very thoughtful, and sat by herself in the window without speaking. But I, remembering a certain proverb of Mr Martin’s, that ran, Many kisse the child for the nurse’s sake, did resolve to follow the counsel given therein, though turning it contrariwise, and so paid my court to Madam Heliodora through her cousin Mad. de Chesnac. This lady was of so merry and sportive a humour that she could not endure dulness nor melancholy about her, and engaged me speedily in a war of words touching the differences betwixt our two nations. And upon my making confession that I had always believed the ladies of France to be of a light and frivolous constitution, until I had the happiness to become acquainted with Madam Heliodora and herself, and so prove them to be both discreet and at the same time gracious, she did laugh mightily, and would have had my lady hear this fine jest. But seeing her still sit pensive at the window, she inclined her head toward me and saith very low—
“You must not take mademoiselle as a fair pattern of the ladies of France, sir. She is more than half a Hugonot by nature, and they are wellnigh as much English as yourself. ’Tis from her grandmother she hath it, my lord marquis his mother.”
“But sure my lord an’t inclined to Hugonotry?” said I.
“Nay, he was took while very young out of his mother’s charge, and his father had him bred up at a Jesuit college. Then he came under the notice of my lord the old cardinal,[96] who interested him in these Indian adventures, and after his patron’s death he lived in Paris in the manner of other persons of his rank until his patrimony was gone, and his majesty was induced to use his experience in Eastern matters by naming him viceroy.”
And after this did Mad. de Chesnac tell me much more touching my lord marquis, which it would be tedious to set down, and also concerning my lady his wife, and then touching herself, how that she, being a young kinswoman of my lady of Tourvel, had espoused an elderly gentleman of my lord marquis his following, that so she might continue near her patroness.
“My husband was slain in a brawl,” says she, “before I had been wed a month, and I continued with my cousin, and since her death, with mademoiselle her daughter. Now you perceive, sir, how it is that in my old age I follow this young lady all over the world.”
“Ah, madam,” cried I, “would that I were in your place!”
“What a fine compliment!” cries she, mightily diverted. “My cousin, you must hear this—I insist on’t,” and she repeated what I had said.
“Mr Carlyon can’t know what a troublesome and whimsical creature I am, since he says that,” says Madam Heliodora, coming back into the saloon, and leaving me blushing and ashamed that she should hear my hasty words.
For several nights thereafter we did spend the time before supper in singing and talking, and it seemed to me that my love was prospering, so that my heart grew more and more light, for I observed that Madam Heliodora was wont to fall into long fits of musing, reddening and paling again when she was disturbed, and this again, say our authors, is a sure sign of love. And I reading it so, was wont to feel as though treading upon air the while I made my rounds with Colonel Laborde, singing meantime in a low voice snatches of the songs that had been sung. He looked at me often, and smiled as though knowing what was in my mind, and I don’t doubt he could have told me something had he so desired it. I can’t determine now whether he was willing that another should suffer as he had done, or whether he judged that I should resent his speaking to me on such a topic (as was, indeed, most probable); but he did but shrug his great shoulders (he was a sturdy fellow from that part of France which they call Bretaigne or Little Britain), and said naught, and I likewise.
But it came to pass that about this time was a period put to this simple and harmless-seeming enjoyment of mine by adverse causes from without, no other than the King of Gulconda’s suddenly bringing up his soldiers again from their camps for to attempt the city. It seemed most likely that he had learned the absence of my lord marquis (doubtless from some of the Moors left in the place, that we always suspected of bringing intelligence to their friends without the walls, though we could never catch ’em in the act), and desired to compass our destruction before he could return. And the Moors attempting to carry the walls by an escalado, we beat them off, and turned our minds to consider how we should best maintain a lengthened defence. My business lay with the palace, and on the strengthening thereof I did bestow endless care, instructing the ladies and their attendants, with the whole guard, that upon any alarm of the enemy’s having gained a footing on the wall, they should run into the tower overlooking the water-gate, wherein I stored up both arms and powder and shot, and also a sufficient quantity of victuals. And this, my own especial duty, having been seen to, I was very ready to seek other work, and willingly offered myself as Madam Heliodora’s messenger, for to visit the guards on the walls at the several towers, and bring back to her the latest news of the defence. And the enemy came against us next with much greater judgment than before, dividing his forces and attempting many points at once, whereby we were hard put to it to maintain the walls with our small numbers. There was some very pretty fighting done (wherein I won’t deny that I did take my part, though ’twould be unprofitable to set down all the particulars thereof), and we were able to rid ourselves of our foe for the present, they retiring some distance off.
Now, would you not expect that, this happy event being attained, all in the place should have united together with one mind to strengthen the walls and prepare against a fresh assault? But it wan’t so, for there was among the French officers certain timorous and politic persons that, like the children of Israel concerning Moses, said of my lord marquis that since he was now absent for near three weeks without returning, doubtless he and his ships were taken by the Dutch, and that ’twere best to come to terms with the King of Gulconda while we might. I verily believe that the chief concernment for these gentlemen was that they might spite and injure my lord, in thus giving up his city in his absence; but they did not venture to say this openly, but spake of having gentlewomen in their company, and that for their sake they must seek to make peace. But sure such men as these could know naught of the stuff whereof that intrepid lady, of whom they principally spake, was made, for she, on hearing of their murmurs and the propositions they put forward, turned pale with anger, and called a council to assemble immediately.
Now to this council I was admitted only by favour, and by my lady’s command, as one appointed by my lord her father to a weighty post; but truly ’twas a brave sight to see all these officers assemble, in their laced clothes and great perukes, and Madam Heliodora, mighty fine in black satin and very rich white lace, sitting at the head of the table like a queen. ’Tis my belief that these gentlemen conceived that they had been summoned together for to deliberate upon articles of accommodation with the enemy, and sure they must have been prodigiously amazed when Madam Heliodora arose and spake without one of ’em saying a word. Speaking with an elegance of language and a nobility of tone I have never known equalled, she said that she had been appointed to the oversight of the city by the marquis her father, and that she would continue to hold it for his lordship and for the king. Certain persons (she said) had dared to think and talk of surrender—let them know that she, Heliodora de Tourvel, would die among the falling ruins of the town before she would suffer the word to be so much as mentioned in her hearing. If any one should venture to advocate an accommodation, let him stand out, and he should be arrested and imprisoned to await the marquis’s return, when his lordship would know how to deal with him. If they had anything further to say, let them say it; but if not, then in God’s name let ’em go back to the walls and maintain their posts against the Moors. And they, having listened stupefied, being took by surprise as much as was I by the fiery courage of the lady, did depart in silence. But shortly after comes Colonel Laborde again into the chamber, and saith, after his stiff fashion—
“Madam, I have the honour to report that the look-out men declare that they see three ships approaching the harbour, pursued by a fleet, and that they suggest that his lordship is returning.”
“Thank God!” cried Madam Heliodora, turning very white, and trembled as though she would have fallen, but recovered herself, and gave me her hand to lead her back to her own apartments, which I did, being filled with extraordinary admiration for her bravery.
Now the report of the look-out men was so far just in that the three ships they had discerned proved to be my lord’s, and that he reached the harbour safely and cast anchor in deep water under the walls of the fort, the pursuing fleet, which was of course that of the Dutch, following him in, but casting anchor nearer to the entrance. But when we looked for my lord to land, he would not by no means do this, foreseeing that the Dutch, now that they were waxed so bold, might find a means to destroy his ships if he left ’em, and desiring to strike a blow that might rid him of his enemies for a time. And so night fell, both the Dutch ships and my lord’s hanging out lanterns where they faced each other, for to prevent an attack by boats. Now in the middle of the night (as we heard afterwards from my lord), he loosed his own great ship, which lay outmost of the three, from her moorings, with the greatest expedition and secrecy imaginable, transferring her light on board of a catameran (which is a kind of skeleton-boat used by the Indians of this coast for landing where there is much surf), which he moored where the ship had lain, so that she seemed to those in the Dutch fleet to be still there. Then, because he knew the harbour well, and had on board an Indian that was esteemed the skilfullest pilot of those parts, he sailed round by the outer part of the harbour, where the Dutch durst not anchor, for fear of sand-banks, and so came upon them from the outside, and attacked them very furiously.
Now we within the city were awakened by the noise of this battle, thinking at first that the Dutch was assaulting the place with bombs, and very soon all that were not on guard at other points of the walls gathered at the water-gate for to behold the fighting. ’Twas a prodigious dark night, the which had favoured my lord’s stratagem, and all our enlightenment was by the flashes from the guns of the ships on both sides. Now this Dutch fleet, though near all the several ships was greater and heavier than my lord’s one, was thrown into such great confusion by this sudden attack as made them think that their enemy was a reinforcement of new ships from Europe, since they saw (as they believed) my lord’s three ships lying still idle inside of ’em, and being unable in the darkness to distinguish that their assailant was only one, they slipped their cables for to run out of the harbour, running foul of one another and doing much damage in their haste. And all this, in so far as we could discern the course of events, we on the walls watched with great contentment, and I in especial, being nothing loath to see defeated (though it were at the hand of a Frenchman), those rascally Hollanders from whom we in Britain had suffered so much. And with so much bravery and judgment did my lord handle his ship, as that he was able to perform that which he had desired—viz., to drive away the Dutch fleet while all was still dark, so that they should not discover the truth. Then when the fleet was departed, sorely battered and discomfited, he brought his own ship back to her station, and landed at the water-gate with great pomp. And here he was met by all the garrison with acclamations, and the loudest among ’em was two or three Europe women of the lower sort, that were come first of all in the ships, and had urged on their husbands to demand the surrender of the town in his lordship’s absence. And so to bed again, much wearied, after due greeting given to his lordship.
Now on that next day also, which was but just a-dawning when my lord landed, was I desired to sup at the palace, that so his lordship might hear from my mouth the true history of all that had passed in his absence. And my report having been given, and my lord engaged with Colonel Laborde, I ventured to approach the side of Madam Heliodora, and seek to engage her in discourse. But I was somewhat amazed to find that it did not please her to talk of the dangers of the siege, now happily escaped, nor yet of my lord her father’s victory, but only of my own life and my early friends, and this did sorely vex me, for, as I must confess, at this time I loved not over and above to speak of Ellswether and my father, and of Dorothy not at all. Wherefore, so soon as I saw the chance on’t, I changed the topic, and hit on that of dancing, moved thereto by some recollection of my little cousin’s dancing in our childhood, and did beseech Madam Heliodora to do me the kindness of explaining the diversities that there are between French and English dancing. And this she was good enough to do very particularly, so that I was altogether carried away, as they say, and presently made so bold as to say that I should be perfectly happy could I enjoy the honour of standing up in a dance with her ladyship. When I had said this, I was alarmed at my own presumption, but my lady only laughed.
“I fear you will be constrained to tarry until you can find some younger partner, sir,” saith she. “As for me, I am too old to dance.”
“Your pardon, madam,” says I, quickly, “but sure you are pleased to jest. I make so bold as to think that we should be an excellent good match. I myself am twenty-six years old, as your ladyship hath perhaps forgot.”
“Twenty-six!” saith my lady, looking upon me with some trouble in her eyes, “I had not imagined you could be older than twenty-two or three. But I am twenty-eight, Mr Carlyon, almost an old woman. I han’t danced for years, and I don’t desire to do’t again.”
“Madam,” says I, “suffer me to say that the passing years, so envious to some ladies, do but add to you the gifts they snatch from others.”
I was not a little proud of this compliment, but Madam Heliodora still gazed upon me sadly, and said naught. Then there come to us my lord, Colonel Laborde being now departed, and demanded to know the matter of our serious discourse. Then I, willing to avoid that topic of age, which had in some way grieved my lady, made answer that her ladyship and I spake concerning dancing. And upon this my lord, inquiring whether I could dance, sat down in his great chair, saying—
“I have a mind to see you dance, sir, if it ben’t displeasing to you. My daughter, will you have the kindness to grant Mr Carlyon your support in a gavot?”
“Sir,” says Madam Heliodora, hastily, “I entreat you to pardon me, and you also, Mr Carlyon, and to excuse me from this dance, without you particularly desire it.”
“I do especially desire it, my daughter,” says he. “Give me your theorba, and I will play for you, if my fingers han’t altogether lost their cunning. Do you take your stand there, if you please, Mr Carlyon.”
I did as he bade me, and he playing a most dainty tune, Madam Heliodora rose from her seat, and stood facing me. And with so much dignity and grace did she dance, as that I was ashamed to have put myself forward to stand up with her. But so sad and serious was her face the while, that it might have fitted a funeral, and having gone through the measure in silence, she returned still silent to her place. And I being unable to win her to resume her usual cheerfulness, although my lord was very sprightly, and did make me many fine compliments, I did take my leave early, and returned to my lodging, marvelling much at the change in my lady’s conditions towards me. And yet, even then (so foolish is youth!), my own hopes flattered me into believing that my lady was tired, and would fain have rested herself and talked with me quietly, and that my twice gainsaying of her wishes, first in refusing the topics she did choose, and then in unmannerly pestering her to dance, had caused her to show herself thus grieved and displeased.
Now the next morning, when I was about going abroad with Mr Marigny, for to see the late camping-ground of the King of Gulconda’s army, for they were now, since the return of my lord, gone back to their former posts at some distance, we met with his lordship, who was about embarking in his barge for to row round the harbour and see what damage might have been done by the shots of the Dutch. He bade me come with him, and leave Mr Marigny find some other companion, and so I did, being sensible of the honour showed me, to be alone with my lord, save only for his Indian rowers, that spake no tongue of Europe. I wondered much whether my lord desired to speak with me that he carried me thus with him, but he said nothing of any moment until we were out in the harbour, and well beyond the reach of prying persons. Then he looked upon me in that way he had, that seemed to see everything without any striving thereto, and “Mr Carlyon,” says he, “I am infinitely obliged to you for your care of my daughter in my absence.”
“My lord,” says I, “such little service as I could render to her ladyship was in itself a pleasure.”
“Perhaps,” said my lord, “you might be content to render that pleasure a lasting one, sir, by taking service with our Company in the stead of your own?”
“My lord,” says I, mighty astonished, “I han’t never yet thought of taking such a step.”
There came a look of some impatience upon my lord’s face on his hearing this, and I remembered his words said to me in his closet, before he started on his late adventure, and wondered whether they were meant to move me to this step. But I saying no more, he went on—
“I must needs be surprised, sir (though I should not be so, knowing your mild and forgiving constitution), to hear that you purpose to pass over the unkind treatment you have received at the hands of the President at Surat, and invite him to take you again into the service. Have you forgot that you lie under a suspicion of undeserved disgrace, and that your name is already removed from your Company’s books? Pray, why should you not join yourself to us, and engage your excellent parts and conditions in a service where they will be deservedly prized?”
To this I made little answer, being so much confused in my mind as to what I should say, wherefore his lordship continued.
“You have already seen, sir, how the Dutch are put to flight, and the Moors forced to keep at a distance from our walls. When help reaches us from France, as sure it must before many months are over, we shall destroy our enemies with a great blow. And that accomplished, I don’t purpose to waste my life in trading, as do you English, but to lay the foundations of a great empire for his majesty. For traffic, as I fear, I have small talent, but heaven hath granted me some little skill in statecraft, and here there is provided a field the most advantageous for such powers, in the dissensions and jealousies of the Mogul emperor and his princes. If heaven continue to vouchsafe me the aid it has afforded hitherto, I look to make myself a power by an alliance with the King of Gulconda, helping him to conquer the kings lying around him. This should easily be accomplished during the present absence of the Dutch, and I shall write myself down a fool if on their return they don’t find the whole coast closed to ’em. And this assured, I would first use a portion of my reinforcements to strengthen our factories at Surat and Mechlapatan, and taking the rest with me, would then proceed to visit the court of Seva Gi, for to confirm our league with him. This being done, I would use my efforts to reconcile him with the King of Gulconda, I myself acting both as the means and the bond of this alliance, and see you there! I have power across the whole of Duccan, and far into the Mogul’s dominions to the north. The emperor must reckon with me then, and I think that even Auren Zeeb himself would pause before attempting war against such a confederacy. Then I have the situation in my hands. How does this plan strike you, sir?”
“It seems a very bold and splendid scheme, my lord,” said I.
“Yet to accomplish it,” says my lord, “I must needs secure myself from the jealous interference of those in France, that consider they know more of Indian matters than I, who am in the Indies. As you may have perceived, sir, some of my officers are badly affected towards me, and seek every pretext to write calumnies against me to the minister. I can say truly that I don’t fear their machinations so long as I am acquainted with ’em beforehand, and yet it an’t consistent with my quality, nor with the high dignity that his majesty hath conferred upon me, to mingle with these persons and find out their intentions for myself. I need some person in my following that will be one of ’em and yet a faithful friend to me. Once” (and he looked at me) “I thought that I had found such an one, but now I fear that fortune was but deluding me once more. Is such a situation as this beneath your expectations and your hopes, Mr Carlyon?”
“Indeed, my lord, ’tis so high above ’em that I can’t at present think on’t calmly,” said I.
“You would gain,” says he, “experience and wisdom, and much honour withal. Wealth likewise, but I won’t injure you by supposing that that could move you. And there are other rewards, greater, such as one names not in words, but which await the trusted helper,” here he looked me again full in the face, so that my eyes fell before his. “Come, sir,” saith he, mighty encouraging, “can you hesitate? You gain so much in joining yourself to us, and lose so little, merely a king that can’t provide a place for you, though your father spent all he had in his service, and a desk and many years of weary work in the Surat Factory.”
“Ay, my lord,” says I, “and much beside.”
“Pooh, pooh!” says my lord sharply, “you are too nice and too calculating, sir. What is there that renders your services at Surat so valuable that they would be missed should you accept of my offer?”
“My lord,” says I, “the meanest Englishman hath three things to consider—viz., his honour, his soul, and his body—whereof the last is precious to his friends, the second to God, and the first to himself. Under your lordship’s leave, I believe that I should put in jeopardy all three of these, did I accept of your most obliging offer, and I must therefore ask humbly to be allowed to decline it.”
“Now, by my faith!” cried his lordship, “will you talk of your body in the same breath with your honour, sir? You do yourself wrong, Mr Carlyon, by these barbarous notions. Come, think over my proposition. I will give you fifteen days for’t. Until then we will say nothing, but I hope to find you then less blind to your own advantage. You must perceive how highly I esteem you, by my daughter’s admitting you so continually to her saloon. Is it possible that after a sojourn of some weeks at St Thomas, you can look forward to return with contentment to your life at Surat? There is, as I understand, no ladies there whose company you may enjoy as you have done that of my family.”
“Indeed, my lord,” said I, imagining to myself the pain I should feel on quitting the vicinage of Madam Heliodora, and shuddering at the very thought, “ ’twould be a new expulsion from Paradise.”
“So I had divined,” says he, “and therefore counselled you to remain with us. When you have duly considered of the matter, I have little fear but you will follow my advice. But take counsel with your pillow, ponder for a fortnight what I have said to you, and then we will speak again upon this topic.”
Now by this time we were returned to the landing-place, and my lord signifying that he desired me still to attend him, I did accompany him to the palace, and being there dismissed by his lordship, took occasion to go to the chamber where I had lain during his absence, for to seek one of my lace-bands[97] that I had left there. And finding it, I was about returning to my lodging at Mr Marigny’s, when I come again upon his lordship, looking over a part of the palace which wan’t then used, being too large for his family, but so complete and so shut off as to be almost a separate palace in itself. And my lord seeing me, would have me go over these buildings with him, and showed himself most gracious towards me, and was pleased to tell me his plans for the ornamenting and furnishing this place when it should be needed. And when all was seen and done, and I departing, he saith on a sudden—
“When my daughter marries she will dwell here beside me, and so shall I have her almost in my own house still.”
Now this word of his lordship’s filled me with thought, and sent me home very busy. For you will smile to hear that until now I had never so much as dreamed of espousing Madam Heliodora, although I knew and had assured myself that I loved her. It had seemed to me a sufficiency of bliss to behold her every day, as I now did, and to enjoy her sweet company and wise discourse. Nay, now that the thought was presented to my mind, it seemed to me a kind of sacrilege to imagine that so divine a creature was to be wooed and wedded like any other woman, since she seemed to be set far above all such common ways, like the fabled goddess Minerva of the ancients, or our own Qu. Elizabeth, of glorious memory. And by reason of this new thought I went about all day heavy and, as it were, guilty in my own esteem. But this did not continue long, for growing used to the notion, I reasoned with myself that since her ladyship refused not to condescend to the joys and sorrows of common mortals, why should she not espouse me as soon as any other? And though this argument filled me at first with a great trembling and fear, by reason of my own presumption, yet I soon accustomed myself thereto, and even dwelt upon it with great delight. And in this frame of mind I abode for several days, seeing Madam Heliodora as before, only in the evening, when I found myself so timid and bashful as scarce to be able to utter a word in her ladyship’s presence, and on leaving did always curse myself for my folly in daring to suppose that she could ever deign to smile upon me. And as though I wan’t enough troubled already, a chance word of my lady’s brought back to my mind that which in this sweet madness I had clean forgot, yea, and had been fain to forget longer—viz., that I was betrothed already to my little cousin Dorothy Brandon, and that both she and my father would look for me to fulfil my contract with her.
Now this for some time filled me with such heaviness that I knew not what to do, finding myself as it were stranded between inclination on the one hand and honour on the other. And being thus situated, I did as men are wont to do in such a case, that is to say, I stood wavering between the two difficulties. For I could not altogether resolve to adopt my lord’s offer and enter the French service, cutting myself off entirely from my own country, and designing never to see my father’s face again, lest he should reproach me, and yet I could not make up my mind to retire immediately to Maderas and return to my duty. And while in this pother, that ingenious sophistry, wherewith the devil is wont to bewilder our minds in such cases of temptation, came to the aid of my own inclination. For (so said the tempter to me), your cousin is yet very young, and may reasonably look for a far better settlement than you can offer her. Moreover, she hath not seen you for many years, and her childish fancy for you can’t fail by now to have faded away, while as for any more enduring affection for you that might replace it, how can it have sprung up in your absence? Nay, how do you know that she han’t already fallen in with some gentleman to whom her wishes might incline, were it not for her engagement with you? An’t this more probable, and will you force her to sacrifice her love and herself to a contract made by your father when you were both infants?
Thus spake the voice of my own desires, and so prone are we to erect our unruly fancies into virtues, that I waxed exceeding hot and wrathful when I considered the case of the luckless damsel thus bound unwillingly to me, and felt that ’twould be to wrong her grievously did I lack the courage to break the chain that held us. Nor was this all, for it seemed to me that I had also in my keeping the happiness of Madam Heliodora, which I must certainly ruin if I should leave her for to carry out my contract with Dorothy. And thus did I, poor foolish coxcomb! labour to excuse myself and bring salve to my conscience, weighing and judging these matters in my mind as though the lives of all around me had hung upon my nod, and they themselves should be fortunate or miserable according as my high will and pleasure should decree. Never once did I consider that in all this I was wronging not only my poor cousin, whose faithful heart had never turned from me to any other, but also that noble lady, who, if she had loved me even as I hoped, would nevertheless have sacrificed herself and me, without relenting, to the duty that bound me.
Reasoning with myself then in this wise, I did put off from day to day the deciding concerning my lord marquis his offer, considering always that I would make up my mind to-morrow, until it so happened that my resolve was fixed without my intending it by a certain word of my lord’s. For coming one day into his lordship’s closet, whither he had sent for me to attend upon him, I found with him Father Simon, his chaplain. And they being busied in discourse, when first I tapped upon the door they did not heed me, and I heard Father Simon say—
“Hath your lordship considered that by your schemes you may be endangering the happiness of my lady your daughter?”
To whom his lordship answered coolly enough—
“My daughter is able to take good care of herself and her happiness, father, I thank you,” and I then knocking the second time, he bid me enter. But I was much exercised in my mind concerning that I had heard, wondering whether his lordship was so secure of Madam Heliodora’s indifferency towards me that he believed he might safely lure me on by hopes of winning her, such as she would refuse to see realised. But (thought I), if this be my lord’s mind, I know more touching the matter than he, for all his reading of faces, for he, it is evident, han’t observed those delicious tokens of tears and blushes and the like, that have revealed to me my lady’s heart. And thus I was now moved also with the desire to approve myself wiser in reading thoughts than my lord, with all his statecraft, and this, coming with all those other considerations I have mentioned, brought me to decide that at the end of the fortnight, which was now near at hand, I would accept of my lord’s offer.
Looking back now on that time, I can’t conceive how my presumption and folly should ever have blinded me to such a degree; but so secure and confident was I, that I writ after this a letter to my father, hinting not obscurely at my hopes and expectations, and yet not in so many words breaking off my contract with Dorothy, but leaving her rather to judge by implication that it was at an end. And this letter, which they could not, as I knew, misinterpret, I sent by a messenger that my lord was about despatching to Maderas, whence it might be sent to England. And having thus, as I conceived, eased my conscience by declaring my intentions of that I was about to do, I waited, in much excitement and perturbation of mind, for the fortnight to end. And though this space of time seemed prodigiously slow in passing, yet it came to an end at last, and on its final night I went to bed so oppressed with the thoughts of my coming glory and happiness as that I could scarce compose myself to sleep.
Now on this night it was that there come to me a most strange dream or apparition, the particulars whereof (lest any should gainsay ’em), I did set down in writing at the time, and do now record for the examination and explication of wiser men than I. For as I tossed and tumbled upon my bed, in a state betwixt sleeping and waking, I saw in the chamber my little cousin Dorothy, grown into a tall and goodly woman, and wearing a white wrapping-gown and a cap guarded with bone lace, her countenance bearing an air of extreme concern. At whose appearing I did experience at the first a feeling of much comfort, but was immediately seized with a fit of great trembling, remembering the treachery and dishonour that I had meditated against her. And she did stretch forth both her hands to me, as one entreating, but spake no word. To whom I, repenting of my shameful intention, did call with a lamentable voice, saying—
“Help me, good cousin, if indeed it be you, for I am in a grievous strait.”
And she, with an air of great seriousness, cried sharply unto me—
“Be true, Cousin Ned; oh, be true!” and forthwith vanished.
Then I, awaking fully, turned the matter over in my mind, and did consider much with myself, wondering at the Providence that had thus sent the shape of my cousin Dorothy to warn me, when I was on the point of forsaking my duty and choosing the path of dishonour. Nevertheless, my inclination still dragged me towards the accepting my lord’s offer, and I was prodigious sad and unhappy in the morning, so that even Mr Marigny observed my heaviness as we sat at breakfast, and asked of me whether the beautiful Heliodora had showed herself cruel towards me last night. Now at this, added to my former passion, I was seized with such a transport of rage as that I could have killed Mr Marigny for this question, but he, perceiving my disorder with astonishment, made haste to apologise very handsomely, and so the matter dropped.
After breakfast there come a messenger from my lord, bidding me attend him in his closet, and I went thither with a heavy heart. And you may well conceive that it wan’t by any means easy to me, being already so confused and unhappy in my mind, to explain to my lord that my duty to my employers and to my father would not allow me to accept his proposition. Of the matter concerning Dorothy I said naught, for my lord had not once spoke plainly touching my regard for Madam Heliodora, but only hinted thereat, and I was well content that her name should not be mentioned between us. But I could scarce succeed in persuading my lord, who had judged me certain to accept of his offer, and the more I bungled in my reasonings, the more he involved me in fresh tricks of speech, with such artful putting of questions and imputing of motives, as brought me nearly to despair, so that I resigned one by one all my reasons, yet still clung feebly to my resolve, which his lordship perceiving was displeased.
“I have counselled you for your good, sir,” saith he at last, in some heat, “but you show yourself mighty slow to profit by my advice. Let us see whether a few minutes’ discourse with the ladies will work more effect.”
And without more ado he led me to the door of Madam Heliodora’s withdrawing-room, where he left me, signifying that he should look for my return in an hour, and desiring for me a better mind. Now this was for me the worst prospect of all, that in saving my honour (though now almost too late), and in keeping faith with my masters I must attack and maybe wreck my lady’s happiness. Likewise I feared that even yet, not knowing what was on foot, she might by her sweet discourse and her incomparable graciousness break down my resolution, so that it was in much turmoil of spirit that I did enter that enchanted chamber of hers, as Tancred might have approached the bower of Armida. It being yet so early, the ladies were both only breaking their fast, my lady’s blackamoor page waiting upon them with jacolatt and a sorbet,[98] which is a cooling drink made by the Moors from divers fruits and herbs, very comforting in these climates. My lady was fully dressed, though without powder or ornaments, but Mad. de Chesnac was still in her wrapping-gown of painted calicut,[99] with her hair drawn up under a morning cap.
“Ah, Mr Carlyon,” she cried, seeing me, “you are early to-day, and you find me still in my undress. It rejoices me to see you, for this morning time is the most wearisome imaginable. Pray bid the boy remove these dishes, and let us fall to talking in a sprightly and ingenious manner, as if we were in France.”
I made shift to do as she bid me; but whether it were that my trouble of mind withheld me from discoursing ingeniously I don’t know, but Mad. de Chesnac waxed very drowsy, and presently slept altogether. Then my lady, after waiting for a moment to try whether she would awake, arose from her seat and stepped out upon the great gallery (such as is called by the Indians, and after them by the Portugals, veranda), which looketh over the sea, and is hung about with roses, mighty pretty, and signed to me to follow her, the which I did.
Ah! what a moment was that, wherein we looked out upon the marble walls of the city and the sea beyond, that was of a deep azure colour, and glistering in the sunlight. Even at this distant space of time, I have but to close my eyes to see Madam Heliodora standing there among the roses, in her rich array, with her feathered fan in her hand, while I, poor fool! leaned upon the rail beside her, ready to kiss the very blossoms that had but touched her cheek. She stood looking over the sea, then, upon a sudden turning to me, she saith—
“You seem to-day to be in some disorder, sir.”
“Truly, madam,” said I, mighty flustered by her condescension, “your ladyship judgeth aright. I am in sore disquiet by reason of a most strange dream that did visit me in the night. May I inquire whether you be one of those that attach credence to such things?”
“Assuredly,” quoth she, “for han’t the holy saints often been instructed in this manner, and likewise many unbelievers converted? Pray, sir,” and I saw an anxious shade upon her face, “be so good as tell me your dream.”
I obeyed, marvelling greatly to see the heaviness pass out of my lady’s face as I spake, until, on my reaching the end, she turned upon me, saying—
“And wan’t there some need of the warning, sir?”
“Madam!” cried I, in grievous astonishment and heat; but my lady had turned from me again, and was looking over the sea.
“Sir,” saith she, in a strange voice, “I pray you don’t take offence that I cast aside for a moment the restraints belonging to my sex and quality, and speak to you for your good. Forget for the instant that it is Heliodore de Tourvel that speaks, and think only that ’tis one that is solicitous for your best interests.”
“Madam,” says I, “I’ll endeavour myself to profit by any counsel you may be good enough to give me.”
“Sir,” saith Madam Heliodora, “you are very young, and in youth one is often carried away by one’s sensibilities. Now my father an’t young any longer, and, moreover, he is a statesman, and ’tis the wont of statesmen to make use of the sensibilities of others for to further their own plans. Tell me,” and again she turned upon me, “han’t he endeavoured, through your sensibilities, to make you false to your country and your faith?”
“Not my faith, madam!” I cried, in great indignation. “For the sake of that I have lain in the dungeons of the Inquisition, and doth your ladyship think I am like to forsake it for reward?”
“Ah, bah! that will come after,” quoth my lady, spreading forth her white hands with a gesture as of disgust; “he can afford to wait. To your country and your employers, then, sir. What say you to that?”
“Madam,” said I, growing red, “my employers have suspected me unjustly, and now they have took my name off their books, and esteem me dead.”
“And is that any reason that you should prove their suspicion not unjust?” cries she hotly. “Go back to your employers, sir, confess your fault in lingering here, and explain your action in the other matters wherein they have disapproved of your carriage towards ’em, and so set yourself right in their eyes.”
“Madam,” I stammered, “you ask a great matter;” for indeed, since I had been in her presence again, I had wavered in my intentions of departing, as my lord had foreseen I should do.
“I don’t ask it—I command it,” and she stamped her foot. “What! the reward of dishonour is then too great to be refused?”
“My lord marquis knows, madam, that no reward but the greatest could avail in this matter,” quoth I boldly, looking at her the while in a way she might not mistake.
She drew herself up mighty proudly, and for one instant there was a smile as of disdain upon her lips, the next she saith slowly—
“Alas, my poor friend! I fear that you have deceived yourself very grievously. It is now three years that I am betrothed to my father’s cousin, the Viscount Eugene de Galampré.”
“Madam!” I cried, too heavily stricken at first to say more, but presently recovering myself a little, “perchance my lord marquis hath it in his mind to break off the match.”
“Not with my consent!” she cried quickly, and I saw all my folly. I knew that the lady that I worshipped loved me not a whit, for that all her heart was given to this Frenchman. All those signs of love, which I, in my blind foolishness, had interpreted for myself, were caused by the thought of him! I bowed my head on the railing with a groan, feeling verily that now I had lost all.
“Hush, sir!” cried Madam Heliodora; “will you ruin yourself and me both? Dry these unmanly tears, and tell me, what have you ever seen in Heliodore de Tourvel that should make you think that she would consent to be used as a bribe to repay a dishonourable action?”
“Alas, madam!” I cried, “you see me humbled to the very dust at your feet. Sure death is the only remedy for misery so great as mine.”
“Rise, sir,” says she angrily, “and let me hear no more of such heathen foolishness. Are you prepared for death, you that have meditated such treason not only against your employers, but also against that unhappy lady in England, your cousin?”
I obeyed her, ashamed that I should deserve and receive such rebuke from a Papist, and at that same moment there come back to my mind that wise saying of Dr Thomas Browne, to the effect that Suicide is not so much to fear death as to be afraid of life. When to live is more terrible than death, then is it the truest valour to dare to live; but I groaned again to remember how often my cousin Dorothy and I had read those words together, and also to think how much more terrible life would now be to me than death, though surely this should not have been so, seeing I was assured of my lady’s continued happiness.
“Sir,” says Madam Heliodora, “you have yet much to live for. Humble yourself to your employers, as I have already recommended to you, and then, if your cousin be still willing to espouse you, make to her the best amends in your power for your faithlessness.”
“Madam,” I replied, “I will obey you so far as in me lies; but this thing I can’t do. The man that hath once lived in the hope (vain and foolish though it were), to be beloved by you, can never bend his thoughts towards any other. Were Mrs Dorothy Brandon possessed of every perfection under heaven, I could not bring myself to wed her—yea, though she herself besought me on her bended knees.”
Alas, what fools are we! I can now scarce bring myself to write down these shameful words, knowing, as I do, of the day wherein these my vauntings lay upon me as heavy as lead, so that they were like to drag me down into despair, and when, for one kind word from the dear lady whose love I thus slighted, I had willingly died.
“Be silent, sir!” cried Madam Heliodora in extreme heat. “Such words don’t befit either yourself or Mrs Brandon. If I know her aright from all you have told me, you are far more like to sue in vain for her favour than she for yours. You are a mean-spirited craven, sir, to speak thus to me touching one of my own sex.”
“Madam, forgive me,” I entreated. “I am sore disquieted, and I ask your pardon if my words wan’t seemly, though I must remain fixed in their spirit. What does your ladyship desire me to do?”
“You must leave this city at once, sir, which hath been, indeed, your Capua,” says my lady, in a voice of displeasure, “and do as I have recommended you. If your name should ever again come to my ears, I trust to hear of you as an honourable gentleman, and married to the excellent lady whose happiness is in your keeping.”
“Give me some slight token, madam,” I entreated, “that I may know that I an’t for ever disgraced in your sight.”
“Nay, truly!” she cried; then, checking herself, “you may chance to meet the Viscount de Galampré on your travels, sir, for he was sent from our Factory of Surat on a mission for his majesty to the emperor and the Moratty king. He is of the religion, a Hugonot, like yourself, wherefore you should agree. Convey to him my loving commendations. You understand me?”
“Madam, I will obey you,” said I, and laden with this message of kind cruelty, departed.
Now after that which I had heard from my lady, I had but one desire, and this was, to leave the place so soon as I conveniently might. With this purpose, then, I waited upon my lord, and acquainted him of my determination, wherewith he professed himself very much grieved. But perceiving from my countenance, without doubt, that Madam Heliodora had undeceived me, and released me from the tangle that he had drawn around me, and seeing also the turmoil of spirit into the which her action had thrown me, he made no further attempt to detain me at St Thomas, nor was any question made touching my sudden departing. And on my part, also, I said naught of the hopes he had given me, since now, at last, I perceived that ’twas all done in so delicate and artful a manner as he could have denied with all appearance of truth any design to turn my thoughts towards my lady his daughter. But Mr Marigny wan’t so silent, for he was very greatly astonished to learn that I was about departing that very day, following the counsel of Madam Heliodora. And this I was concerned to do in the exactest manner possible, from the shame and remorse I felt in regard of my conduct towards her, for this I repeat, as I have hereinbefore showed you, that my folly an’t in no wise to be laid to the charge of that most noble and virtuous lady (as certain base persons have falsely alleged), but solely to my own presumption, and the statecraft of my lord marquis her father.
Mr Marigny being, as I said, mighty astonished at my decision, could not forbear questioning me thereupon, and so arrived at a tolerable knowledge of the whole matter. Still, although mightily diverted to hear of my presumption and its rebuff, he was good enough to restrain his mirth in my presence, though I can’t but believe that he hinted the affair to his fellows, and especially to Colonel Laborde, for when these gentlemen came to take their leaves of me, there was in their manners a certain sourness and contemptuous pity, such as my sore heart found it hard to brook. Nevertheless, I did bid them farewell with great ceremony, and likewise my lady and Mad. de Chesnac, and so departed, my lord sending me in his own barge, with Mr Marigny bearing a letter from his lordship commending me to the agent at Fort St George in Maderas. And of his lordship I took my leave with great respect, esteeming him to be at once the stoutest soldier and the most ambitious person that I had ever met.
The Dutch fleet being still absent since my lord’s defeat on’t, our voyage, lasting but for two hours or so, passed without any event worthy of remark, nor might I even spend it in melancholical and remorseful thought, since Mr Marigny was with me, and must have continued discoursing had he been attending upon me to the scaffold. And so droll and merry was he, that I even could not forbear laughing at some of his conceits (though I would not suffer him to press me on that point of my ill-starred pretension to my lady’s hand), but so at last we reached Maderas, whither Mr Marigny had come more than once with letters from my lord marquis, and were hospitably received by the agent, when my letter of commendation had been delivered. One of the council offering Mr Marigny a lodging for the night, he returned back to St Thomas the next day, bearing divers letters and gifts for my lord from the agent, and it seemed to me that I was now done with the French, and should be like to hear no more, so long as I lived, concerning that city and its garrison. But in this, as you will afterwards perceive, I did err.
Now I, being left at Fort St George for to await the coming of some ship that might carry me to Surat, had no better to do than to walk abroad and divert myself with looking at the town. And this is a place of good force, dwelt in both by Moors and Gentues, and also by that people called Parseys, that are more industrious and successful in their business than either of ’em. The place is far better ordered, according to our notions, than Surat, the streets being straight, and kept always sweet and clean. The fort is also strong and well provided with soldiers, both Europe men and Indosthans, though without any artillery, since the merchants an’t allowed even a cannon or two for the firing a salute. But with such magnificence do the Company’s servants go here, as it quite exceeds that at Surat, and this because they are resolved in everything to show themselves to the Indians at least as great as the chief officers of the King of Gulconda, whom he sends often enough for to plague ’em. And all this I observed with some pleasure, being concerned always to note the situation of his majesty’s subjects in these parts, and the usage they meet with from the Indians.
But when once I had completed my survey of the fort and city, I found time heavy on my hands, and having naught else to do, fell into a state of great melancholy and weariness, brooding continually over my hopeless love and its ending. And although I was very sensible of my own folly in entertaining such a passion, and cursed it in my mind, yet did I, as many, I believe, are wont to do, attribute to the fancied misdeeds of others that which was my own fault, blaming not only my lord, but also Madam Heliodora, and even Mad. de Chesnac and Mr Marigny, and in especial Colonel Laborde, because, as I suppose, they had not cared to warn me and so preserve me from my foolishness. And all this did breed in me a certain heaviness and disease that was near leading me to madness, so that I did forswear all confidence in my fellow-creatures, and determined to live henceforth by myself alone, untouched by the joys and pains of other men. I am thankful to remember that even at this time I had grace enough to exempt my father from this general condemnation, and to resolve still to use all means in my power for to carry out that purpose wherein he had sent me to the Indies—viz., the releasing the Ellswether estate from its burdens, that so Sir Harry might enjoy in his old age that easiness of fortune which he deserved. But with respect to marriage with Dorothy, or return to England, I put the thoughts of these from me with a sort of sick scorn, if I may so speak. For I won’t deny that I seemed to myself to be a very virtuous and well-deserving person, that a cruel fate had led into divers misfortunes, such as he must needs rise superior to ’em, though they galled him sorely. And that I might do this, it was evident to me that I must give myself up altogether to business, lest otherwise the memory of my trouble should drive me mad.
And that I might the better do this, I begged the agent at the fort to appoint me some work until there should come some means for me to return to Surat, which he did with a very good will, so that I gained much experience in that two months I did spend at Maderas. In my leisure time, moreover, not desiring to have opportunity for thought, I applied myself to the study of the Portuguese, finding an old Portugal trader willing to instruct me therein, and so made good progress. And all this diligence pleased the agent so well (he not knowing of that secret spur that did drive me on to work continually, and yet made all my labour to seem but as fruitless toil), that he much commended me, and desired mightily to have me with him instead of at Surat. But it wan’t for me to linger at Maderas when my place was elsewhere, and because no ship touched at the place convenient for me to embark therein, I did embrace with joy the occasion offered me by the setting out of a caphalay bound for Bombaim, and headed by my friend the old Portugal trader, to return to Surat, he inviting me to bear him company.
Now in this journey we must needs pass through all the kingdom of Gulconda and also that of Visiapour, in both whereof the kings and ruling men are Moors, and mighty suspicious and jealous of all Europe men, and for this cause we adopted the Indian habit for our travels, that so we might go on our way with less remark. And all this journey, by God’s good providence, we did perform and accomplish in safety, visiting divers places of note and seeing many strange things, which it would be tedious to set down at length. And at Bombaim I bid farewell to my ancient friend the Portugal, thanking him for his kindness towards me and the many things he had taught me in his ingenious discourse, and made myself known to the President of the Council at Bombaim. And by good luck there chanced to be lying in the port just at that time the Company’s baloon from Surat, that was come for to bring an advice from the Council there, so as I was able to be sent on at once to my old factory. And when we were come to Surat, I went on shore immediately, being still in my Moorish habit, and with great mustachios, such as the Moguls use to wear, and did seek Mr Martin in his former room. But I found there a gentleman newly arrived from England, that advised me that Mr Martin was now made Accountant, and showed himself very curious to know what I desired with him. But not choosing to gratify this inquisitive temper, I sought the Accountant’s chamber, and found there Mr Martin established in great state and some luxury. And seeing me, he took me for some Arabian or Persian visitor of quality, and speaking in Persian, desired to know how he might serve me, but I regarding him steadfastly, the truth brake into his mind, and he leaped up and seized me joyfully by the hand.
“My dear Ned,” quoth he, “the longest day hath his end, and I was ever sure I should see you again, though Mr Secretary, and that evil-conditioned cub of his, Mr Spender, hath often scoffed at my security. But without hope the heart would break, and so it had been with me, my dear lad, had I believed you truly to be turned Papist and gone to the Brasils. Wherefore I have always declared that you wan’t either dead or recanted, but were honourably and Christianly employed wherever you were, and now here you are for to confirm my words. But truly you are grown from a boy into a man since last I saw you.”
“Nay, sir,” says I, “by my own feelings I might be grown from a man into the Wandering Jew.”
“Ned,” says Mr Martin, looking me straight in the face, “you have been in trouble, and that other than the Inquisition’s. What is’t, lad? Is it wine, or women, or dice? for ’tis these three are the common curses of our young gentlemen here as in England.”