University of Virginia Library

4. IV.
HOW HARRY HAD COME TO DRIVE A COACH ALL THE
WAY TO SCOTLAND.

The guard-room at Hampton Court was an apartment
of large extent, with tables against the wall beneath
the tall windows, and around these tables a
number of the gay young gallants of the Guards were
already engaged at dice,—laughing, jesting, and exchanging
comments on the events of the morning.

Harry had just made me acquainted with some of
his friends,—and I could see at a glance that he was a
favorite with the mercurial young gentlemen of the
Guards,—when an usher entered, glided to him, and
spoke in a low tone.

“Wait here, Ned,” he said. “I am sent for.” And
taking his gray beaver, with its floating plume, he
followed the usher.

He was absent for a quarter of an hour, during which
time the guard-room resounded with jests, laughter, the
rattle of dice, and the clatter of flagons on the tables.
I was gazing at this animated scene, when Harry touched

me on the shoulder, made a sign to me to follow him,
and, leading the way, conducted me through a long
corridor to the left wing of the palace.

“You are about to enjoy the satisfaction of being
thanked for your chivalric gallantry, Ned, by the
prettiest pair of lips at the court of England,” said
my brother, laughing. “Come on! Be firm, but
determined; modest, but devoted!”

And, still with his gay laugh, Harry opened a door,
beyond which, in a small but richly-decorated apartment,
I saw seated the young lady of the inn at
Wendover.

“I have the honor of presenting my brother Edmund,
Miss Villiers,” Harry said, bowing low, with his plume
trailing on the floor. “He begs to assure you of his
very profound respect.” And Harry discreetly fell back.

The young lady inclined her head graciously, in response
to my low bow, and I observed in her bearing
the same air of calmness and repose. Nothing seemed
to shake this singular serenity.

“I fear you make quite a court ceremony of this
interview with a simple maid of honor, Mr. Cecil,”
she said to Harry; and it is impossible to conceive
anything sweeter and calmer than the accents of her
voice. Raising her great, limpid eyes to my face, she
added, “Mr. Cecil has informed me that it was yourself
to whom I was indebted for assistance to-day, sir;
and I thank you sincerely.”

The beautiful girl abashed me. I could only bow
low again, when Harry's gay voice interposed.

“Ned is overcome, Miss Villiers. In a word, accept
the devotion of the Cecil family at large; and should

you kindly take us under your ladyship's protection,
secure my brother's appointment to a place in the
Guards.”

I could not protest that I was about to become
one of the long-robe fraternity,—to be frank, I was
quite ashamed of the fact,—and, with a throb of satisfaction,
remained silent.

“Mr. Cecil wishes an appointment?” said Miss
Villiers. “I am sure he may secure that.”

“He is discreet as well as brave,” Harry said,
quietly. “He saw and recognized me at Wendover.”

The young lady turned her head quickly, and a
slight color came to her face.

“I am sorry, sir,” she said, somewhat stiffly. “I had
hoped—”

“That no one save myself and her majesty was
informed of that escapade? But think, Miss Villiers, I
alone was to blame.”

He turned to me, and added, “This is the best
time and place to inform you frankly, Ned, of the
meaning of that encounter. It is due to Miss Villiers,
who has not ceased to cherish sentiments of
displeasure towards me. Know, then, that Miss
Villiers is confidential maid of honor to her majesty,
and that her devotion knows no bounds. Well, her
majesty desired, recently, to send an oral message to
his majesty, who is in Scotland. The times are troubled
and dangerous; written communications are liable to
be intercepted: in a word, Miss Villiers offered to go
to Scotland and convey the message in person. Am I
right, Miss Villiers? and have I your permission to
proceed?”

“Yes, sir,” returned the young lady, with the slight
color still in her cheeks. “I even desire that Mr.
Cecil shall be informed of the meaning of that singular
adventure.”

“I see that your displeasure continues, madam,”
said Harry; “but I can only submit. Pardon me, I
pray you, for still speaking of you in your presence as
though you were absent.”

He bowed, and went on, addressing himself to me.

“Her majesty accepted the offer of Miss Villiers,
and it was arranged that she should travel with a lady's
maid only, but the coach was to be driven by an old
and trusted servitor. When it left London it was I,
however, who drove, and for a simple reason. A
young lady would necessarily be exposed, traveling
thus alone, to peril; so I locked up the old servitor,
mounted the seat of the coach, and it was only when
it had proceeded a day's journey, nearly, that Miss
Villiers perceived the ruse. I need not say that she
was very angry, and perhaps justly angry. But the
die was cast; the message was pressing. The coach
continued its way, and beyond Doncaster the advantage
of being driven by an able-bodied young man in place
of an infirm old servitor became apparent, did it not,
madam?”

And, with lurking enjoyment of his triumph in his
handsome eyes, Harry turned to the young lady.

“Continue, sir,” she said.

“Footpads, Ned!” Harry said, laughing. “The
coach was attacked. The coachman heroically discharged
his pistols and unhorsed one of the knights
of the road; the rest fled. The coach imitated them,

and we reached Scotland, to return speedily over the
same ground London-ward. In traveling, no time was
lost. The coach was driven on day and night, as you
may understand from the fact that we reached Wendover
as you were coming down to breakfast. Peste!
as her majesty's French maids say, I have not yet
caught up with my lost sleep. I nod in the saddle,
and snore while rattling the dice! To conclude, Miss
Villiers most generously made my peace with her
majesty. I am becoming a court favorite, they tell me;
and after the assault of the footpads I regained, and
still enjoy, the luxury of a good conscience and an
exalted opinion of myself.”

It was impossible to resist Harry's gayety. A smile
came to Miss Villiers's lips, and she said,—

“Mr. Cecil was born to be an advocate in the courts
of law. He will end by forcing me to thank him for
locking up the queen's servitor.”

“No, madam,” said Harry, bowing low, and speaking
with an earnestness in strong contrast to his former
levity; “I shall be content if you pardon a very audacious
escapade—”

As he uttered the words, an usher summoned Miss
Villiers to attend the queen. She rose, and for the
first time I observed the queenly outline of her person.
There was something regal in her; a slight bend in her
neck gave her appearance an indescribable grace. She
smiled faintly, inclined her head, and, gliding rather
than walking, disappeared.

“By heavens, she's a queen!” exclaimed Harry.
“Come, Ned, and rest easy; from this moment you
are as good as one of her majesty's Guards. My pockets

are full of gold; I make you a present of your uniform!
Long live her majesty—and her maids of
honor!”