The Irish Witch

After a short wait, the Admiral saw him and they talked for ten minutes or more about Roger's experiences in Russia and America, then he said, 'My Lord, I am anxious to get to Spain as soon as possible. I must not conceal it from you that this is on private business; but if you could help me I'd be deuced grateful.'

The old sailor smiled. 'Having in mind your past services to the nation, Mr. Brook, we'd be mightily ungrateful if we couldn't stretch a point for you. The frigate Pompey, Captain Durrant, will be sailing from Greenwich three days hence. You're welcome to a passage aboard her, and I'll notify her commander accordingly.'

Well pleased, Roger made his way to White's Club. As he hung his beaver on a peg in the inner hall, it crossed his mind how manners and fashions had changed since he had first become a member. Then, all the hats had been tricornes and many edged with gold lace. Now, they were all toppers of various colours, some, like his own, rough-surfaced, others of smooth, shining silk.

At the far end of the billiard room he found Droopy, playing backgammon. He peered at Roger with his shortsighted eyes, then greeted him cheerfully, but said nothing of Mary. As soon as the game had ended, Roger drew him aside and asked if she was at Amesbury House.

'No,' replied Droopy in some surprise. 'At least she was not there when I left an hour agone. Why, think you she might be ?'

Over a decanter of Madeira, Roger told him what had occurred. After a moment's thought, Droopy said, "Tis plaguey hard upon you both, though she will be the greater sufferer. Loath as you are to go abroad again, at least you'll be fully occupied, whereas poor Mary will have naught to do but wait and pray. Wherever she is gone, since she has little money she'll not remain away from home for long; and, when she does return, you must not upbraid her for this display of temperament, for 'tis love for you that is the cause of it.'

'You're right, Ned. And it troubles me mightily to have to inflict this pain upon her. Yet how could I possibly leave Georgina without a single hope ?'

'In view of what you have always been to each other, you could not. To that I agree. Yet, if her vision be a true one, your hope of saving Charles is no better than that an angel should appear at the critical moment when the rope is put about his neck.'

'Dam'me, I know it! And my wrath at being forced into undertaking a mission so likely to be foredoomed to failure is exceeded only by my sorrow that it seems the boy is fated to die. Although I've done little, other than buy him presents when a child and later teach him enough of sword play to make him a dangerous antagonist. I've loved him both as my sweet Georgina's son and for himself.'

Droopy nodded. ‘I, too, will share Georgina's grief and yours. Since he could toddle, I have ever been his "dear Uncle Ned". Indeed, over the years I have seen much more of him than yourself, and he was fast becoming a man of whom we could all be proud.'

In due course, Roger accompanied Droopy back to Amesbury House, to make certain that Mary had not arrived there while they had been at White's. Then Roger rode back to Richmond.

Half an hour after he reached home, he heard his coach drive up to the front door. Hurrying to it, he met Mary on the doorstep. Holding out both his hands to her, he said with a smile:

'Mary, my love, wherever have you been ? Your driving off without a word to me this morning, and taking a night bag with you caused me great concern.'

She returned his smile. 'For that I'm sorry. But this was an occasion when I felt that I, for once, must undertake a mission.'

He frowned. ‘I trust it was successful.. . but I do not understand. And why did you take a night bag ?'

'Because I thought I might be asked to stay the night. And it was successful. You need not now go to Spain.'

'What the devil are you talking about?'

Taking a letter from her reticule, she handed it to him. He saw Georgina's crest on the envelope. With a sudden frown, he ripped it open and read :

'Dear Roger,

'Mary tells me that Charles has been taken prisoner and that, having learned of this, it is your intention to proceed to Spain in the hope of obtaining his release. Naturally, this news greatly pains me and I feel sure that it was realising how much it would do so when I heard it that prompted your generous intent. But though I’d derive great comfort from knowing that you were going to Charles's assistance, I cannot allow it. I have no doubt that His Grace of Wellington will speedily arrange for his exchange; and the anxiety you would inflict on Mary by leaving her could not possibly be justified in order to spare the boy a few extra weeks of captivity. 'Ever your loving friend,

'Georgina.’

As he finished reading, Mary said, 'I thought her to be at Stillwaters, so drove down there this morning, only to be told that she left for London the day before yesterday and..’

'And her letter makes it obvious that when you found her at Kew House you told her about Charles.'

'Of course. It was to do so that I sought her out.'

Roger had told Mary that the news of Charles's capture was to be kept secret, in order to spare Georgina. Her letter showed that she had kept to their agreement to speak of it to no-one, so that Susan should not learn of it. Coldly, he said:

'Did it not occur to you that telling Georgina would cause her great grief and anxiety ?'

'Well... yes,' Mary faltered. 'But to appeal to her was my only hope of preventing you from leaving me.'

Obviously Georgina had said nothing to Mary of her vision in the crystal, and to write that letter, foregoing the one possible chance of saving her son must have cost her dear. Yet it was typical of the generous and courageous spirit that Roger loved in her. Slowly he tore the letter across, again and again, let the pieces flutter to the ground, and said harshly:

'Madame, your callous act has failed to achieve its purpose. I do not take orders from Georgina. For your information, in three days' time I am sailing for Spain.'

Then he turned his back on Mary and strode into the house.

An hour later, her eyes red from weeping, she came down for dinner. As Roger did not appear, she thought he must have failed to hear the gong, so told the parlourmaid to sound it again. For the second time that day the girl showed surprise, then faltered:

'Did you not know, m'lady? The master ordered his horse and half an hour since rode away.'

When Roger reached London he still felt very bitter about Mary; for he considered she had betrayed his trust and taken a step which, had his beloved Georgina not already known about Charles, would have caused her great grief. Within a few minutes of entering Kew House he had even greater reason for his anger. Georgina was in her boudoir and, as the door closed behind the footman who had shown him up to her, she said:

'I take it you have had my letter?'

He nodded. 'Yes; it is about that I am come.'

'So I imagined. I hope you have given that wife of yours a beating for the damage she has done.'

'A callous act, yes; but damage, no. You already knew about Charles.'

'Certainly. But Susan did not, and she was with me when the little fool blurted out about your going to Spain, and the reason for it.'

'What?' Roger roared.

'Yes; and it was for her sake we agreed to keep the matter secret. The poor child was distraught. Driven frantic. Naturally, she still knows nothing of my vision, but she imagines Charles to be in some noisome cell living on meagre prison fare. I had a terrible hour with her. She is now in bed, sleeping I trust, for I gave her a potent draught;'

'Hell's bells! Mary told me naught of this. To show my disapproval of her conduct, I left the house without telling her I was riding up to London, but I had intended to return tonight. Now, devil take me, for this I'll leave her to stew until I return from Spain.'