Grey turned from him slowly to Monmouth. "It might be well," said he, in his turn controlling himself at last, "to place Mr. Wilding under arrest."
Mr. Wilding's manner quickened on the instant from passive to active anger.
"Upon what charge, sir?" he demanded sharply. In truth it was the only thing wanting that, after all that he had undergone, he should be arrested. His eyes were upon the Duke's melancholy face, and his anger was such that in that moment he vowed that if Monmouth acted upon this suggestion of Grey's he should not have so much as the consolation of Sunderland's letter.
"You have been wanting in respect to us, sir," the Duke answered him. He seemed able to do little more than repeat himself. "You return from London empty-handed, your task unaccomplished, and instead of a becoming contrition, you hector it here before us in this manner." He shook his head. "We are not pleased with you, Mr. Wilding." "But, Your Grace," exclaimed Wilding, "is it my fault that your London agents had failed to organize the rising? That rising should have taken place, and it would have taken place had Your Majesty been more ably represented there."
"You were there, Mr. Wilding," said Grey with heavy sarcasm.
"Would it no' be better to leave Mr. Wilding's affair until afterwards?" suggested Ferguson at that moment. "It is already past eight, Your Majesty, and there be still some details of this attack to settle that your officers may prepare for it, whilst Mr. Newlington awaits Your Majesty to supper at nine."
"True," said Monmouth, ever ready to take a solution offered by another. "We will confer with you again later, Mr. Wilding."
Wilding bowed, accepting his dismissal. "Before I go, Your Majesty, there are certain things I would report..." he began.
"You have heard, sir," Grey broke in. "Not now. This is not the time."
"Indeed, no. This is not the time, Mr. Wilding," echoed the Duke.
Wilding set his teeth in the intensity of his vexation.
"What I have to tell Your Majesty is of importance, he exclaimed, and Monmouth seemed to waver, whilst Grey looked disdainful unbelief of the importance of any communication Wilding might have to make.
"We have little time, Your Majesty," Ferguson reminded Monmouth.
"Perhaps," put in friendly Wade, "Your Majesty might see Mr. Wilding at Mr. Newlington's."
"Is it really necessary?" quoth Grey.
This treatment of him inspired Mr. Wilding with malice. The mere mention of Sunderland's letter would have changed their tone. But he elected by no such word to urge the importance of his business. It should be entirely as Monmouth should elect or be constrained by these gentlemen about his council-table.
"It would serve two purposes," said Wade, whilst Monmouth still considered. "Your Majesty will be none too well attended, your officers having this other matter to prepare for. Mr. Wilding would form another to swell your escort of gentlemen."
"I think you are right, Colonel Wade," said Monmouth. "We sup at Mr. Newlington's at nine o'clock, Mr. Wilding. We shall expect you to attend us there. Lieutenant Cragg," said His Grace to the young officer who had admitted Wilding, and who had remained at attention by the door, "you may reconduct Mr. Wilding."
Wilding bowed, his lips tight to keep in the anger that craved expression. Then, without another word spoken, he turned and departed.
"An insolent, overbearing knave!" was Grey's comment upon him after he had left the room.
"Let us attend to this, your lordship," said Speke, tapping the map. "Time presses," and he invited Wade to continue the matter that Wilding's advent had interrupted.
CHAPTER XVIII. BETRAYAL
Still smarting under the cavalier treatment he had received, Mr. Wilding came forth from the Castle to find Trenchard awaiting him among the crowd of officers and men that thronged the yard.
Nick linked his arm through his friend's and led him away. They quitted the place in silence, and in silence took their way south towards the High Street, Nick waiting for Mr. Wilding to speak, Mr. Wilding's mind still in turmoil at the things he had endured. At last Nick halted suddenly and looked keenly at his friend in the failing light.
"What a plague ails you, Tony?" said he sharply. "You are as silent as I am impatient for your news."
Wilding told him in brief, disdainful terms of the reception they had given him at the Castle, and of how they had blamed him for the circumstance that London had failed to proclaim itself for Monmouth.
Trenchard snarled viciously. "'Tis that mongrel Grey," said he. "Oh, Anthony, to what an affair have we set our hands? Naught can prosper with that fellow in it." He laid his hand on Wilding's arm and lowered his voice. "As I have hinted before, 'twould not surprise me if time proved him a traitor. Failure attends him everywhere, and so unfailingly that one wonders is not failure invited by him. And that fool Monmouth! Pshaw! See what it is to serve a weakling. With another in his place and the country disaffected as it is, we had been masters of England by now."
Two ladies passed them at that moment, cloaked and hooded, walking briskly. One of them turned to look at Trenchard, who, waving his arms in wild gesticulation, was a conspicuous object. She checked in her walk, arresting her companion.
"Mr. Wilding!" she exclaimed. It was Lady Horton.
"Mr. Wilding!" cried Diana, her companion.
Wilding doffed his hat and bowed, Trenchard following his example.
"We had scarce looked to see you in Bridgwater again," said the mother, her mild, pleasant countenance reflecting the satisfaction it gave her to behold him safe and sound.
"There have been moments," answered Wilding, "when myself I scarce expected to return. Your ladyship's greeting shows me what I had lost had I not done so."
"You are but newly arrived?" quoth Diana, scanning him in the gloaming.
"From London, an hour since."
"An hour?" she echoed, and observed that he was still booted and dust-stained. "You will have been to Lupton House?"
A shadow crossed his face, his glance seemed to grow clouded, all of which watchful Diana did not fail to observe. "Not yet," said he.
"You are a laggard," she laughed at him, and he felt the blood driven back upon his heart. What did she mean? Was it possible she suggested that he should be welcome, that his wife's feelings towards him had undergone a change? His last parting from her on the road near Walford had been ever in his mind.
"I have had weighty business to transact, he replied, and Trenchard snorted, his mind flying back to the council-room at the Castle, and what his friend had told him.
"But now that you have disposed of that you will sup with us," said Lady Horton, who was convinced that since Ruth had gone to the altar with him he was Ruth's lover in spite of the odd things she had heard. Appearances with Lady Horton counted for everything, and all that glittered was gold to her.
"I would," he answered, "but that I am to sup at Mr. Newlington's with His Majesty. My visit must wait until to-morrow."
"Let us hope," said Trenchard, "that it waits no longer." He was already instructed touching the night attack on Feversham's camp on Sedgemoor, and thought it likely Wilding would accompany them.
"You are going to Mr. Newlington's?" said Diana, and Trenchard thought she had turned singularly pale. Her hand was over her heart, her eyes wide. She seemed about to add something, but checked herself. She took her mother's arm. "We are detaining Mr. Wilding, mother," said she, and her voice quivered as if her whole being were shaken by some gusty agitation. They spoke their farewells briefly, and moved on. A second later Diana was back at their side again.