Читать книгу Collected Works (Historical Novel) - D. K. Broster - Страница 104

Wherever Ewen went during the next few days the hard case of Doctor Cameron seemed to be the all-absorbing topic of conversation, and that among persons of no Jacobite leanings at all. Mrs. Wilson, when she encountered her lodger, could talk of nothing else, and reported the general feeling of her compeers to be much roused. At the ‘Half Moon’, the public-house at the corner of the street, she heard that quite violent speeches had been made. Indeed, she herself all but wept when speaking of the condemned man, with that strange inconsistency of people easily moved to sympathy, who would nevertheless flock in thousands to see an execution, and who doubtless would so flock to Tyburn on the appointed day to see the carrying out of the sentence against which they so loudly protested.

Had, therefore, a name been mentioned, it would probably have been with tears of sensibility that Mrs. Wilson conducted to Ewen’s little parlour, one day at the end of the week, a lady, very quietly dressed, who said, on hearing that Mr. Cameron was out, that she would await his return. Mrs. Wilson would have liked to indulge in visions of some romance or intrigue, but that the lady, who was somewhat heavily veiled, seemed neither lovely nor very young. Ardroy, when he came in a little later and was informed of her presence, was at no loss to guess who it was, and when he entered his room and found her sitting by the window with her cheek on her hand, he took up the other listless hand and kissed it in silence.

The lady drew a long breath and clutched the strong, warm fingers tightly; then she rose and threw back her veil. Under the bonnet her face appeared, lacking the pretty colouring which was its only real claim to beauty, but trying to smile—the brave face of Jean Cameron, whom Ewen had known well in the past, surrounded by her brood, happy in the Highlands before the troubles, less happy, but always courageous, in poverty and exile after them.

“Oh, Ardroy . . . !” She bit her lip to fight down emotion. “Oh, Ardroy, I have just come from him. He . . . he looks well, does he not?” And Ewen nodded. “He says that he has not been so well for years. You know he suffered from ague all the winter, two years ago, but now . . . And they seem so kind and well-disposed . . . in that place.” She seemed to shrink from naming the Tower.

“Yes, he is in very good hands there,” answered Ewen; and felt a shock run through him at the other interpretation which might be wrested from his speech.

“And you think, do you not, that there is . . .” But Mrs. Cameron could not bring out the little word which meant so much, and she bit her lip again, and harder.

“I think that there is a great deal of hope, madam,” said Ewen gently, in his grave, soft voice. “And now that you have come, there is even more than there was, for if you have any purpose of petitioning, all popular feeling will be with you.”

“Yes, I thought . . . I have been drawing up an appeal. . . .” She sought in her reticule. “Perhaps you would look at what I have roughly written—’tis here at the end.” And into his hand she put a little paper-covered book. Opening it where it naturally opened, Ewen saw that it was a record of household accounts, and that on a page opposite the daily entries made at Lille, sometimes in English, sometimes in French, for ‘bread’, or ‘coffee’, ‘pain de sucre’, or ‘stuffe for Margret’s gowne’, figured alien and tremendous terms, ‘Majesty’ and ‘life’ and ‘pardon’.

“I thought that when I had made a fair copy I would present the petition to the Elector at Kensington Palace on Sunday.”

“Yes,” said Ewen. “But you will need an escort. May I have the great honour?”

Mrs. Cameron gave a little exclamation of pleasure, soon checked. “Archie tells me that you have got into serious trouble with the Government on his account. You should not show yourself in so public a place, and with me.”

“No one would dream of looking for me at Kensington Palace. Moreover, I have someone to answer for me now,” said Ewen, smiling down at her. And he told her about Lord Stowe.