and settle terms with the Scots afterwards.”
“Without question of the Scots,” replied Monmouth, “Ludlow has refused to come from Lausanne, and Mr. Locke from Utrecht.”
“And who refuses while a nation is with us!” exclaimed Henrietta; but she did not know whether the Duke heard her. He had opened the shutter, and stepped out on the verandah.
He longed for the coolness of the starry March night—or rather morning, for it was very late. He walked to and fro for a time which he did not measure, distracted as his mind was with opposing passions and affections. When at length he entered Lady Henrietta’s dressing-room, Mrs. Johnston escaped by the other door. There were jewel-cases on the table; and Henrietta had a sheet of paper before her, and a pencil in her hand, as she gazed into the chimney, where a wood-fire burned, in English fashion.
“Surely,” she said, looking up at him, “these funds will suffice till you are master of the exchequer. Now listen.”
And she read to him the calculations she had been making, with Mrs. Johnston’s help, of the amount of the proceeds of her rents as Baroness Wentworth of Nettlestede, her jewels, and the money she could raise by mortgaging some of her estates.
“I trust you have not uttered this notion to Mrs. Johnston,” Monmouth said, hastily.
“Indeed I have,” Henrietta replied. “We have been making this calculation together: and why not? I care not if every friend we have in the world knew what this sheet of paper holds. Everybody is aware that a throne cannot be seized without money to carry us within reach of it; and, as for where the money comes from—”
“Aye!” said Monmouth, his trouble melting fast in the fire of her eyes,—“Do you suppose I would beggar you of your fortune, to play so rashly for a stake which is nearly sure to be ruin? Does your friend Kate suppose it?”
“Certainly she does. If I am your real wife, as you say—”
His radiant face encouraged her to go on.
“Then my fortunes are your fortunes. And when you are King, which of us will remember how you became so?”
He folded her in his arms as he whispered:
“When I am king, my Henrietta—for no one can gainsay me then,—my Henrietta shall be my queen.”
The last words that Henrietta said were:
“You have pledged your faith to me. Let your mood as well as your word hold in the morning.”
“My love! who ever heard of such a scheme being engaged in so suddenly!”
“I mean about going to Amsterdam. The rest will follow: but you must go to Amsterdam.”
“Is it possible that you can seriously desire it?”
“Seriously! I so desire it that if you could refuse, I could never forgive you. How could it be possible to forgive it?”
“Very well, then; I will go to Amsterdam.”
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