rnon nor the Duke of Shrewsbury has been
able to accomplish? The King's only answer to all applications is,
that he has spoken to the Earl of Byerdale; and in the Earl of
Byerdale we have no hope. So that is out of the question."
"Not so much as you imagine, Wilton," replied Green. "I will do it if
it is to be done, though I would fain have avoided the act which I
must now perform. Come to me on Monday, Wilton, here upon this road
where we now ride, and I think I will put the order in your hand."
"Alas!" replied Wilton, "Monday will not do. The liberation must be
for to-morrow night to answer the intended purpose. I have lately
thought to do the bold, and perhaps the rash, act of going to the
King myself--telling him all I know--and beseeching him to set the
Duke at liberty. He even told me once, that I had done him good
service, and that he would favour me. But, alas! kings forget such
words as soon as spoken."
"He has a long memory, this William," replied Green; "but you shall
go with me, Wilton. If it must be to-morrow, to-morrow it shall be.
Meet me then at twelve o'clock exactly, at the little inn by the
water, called the Swan, near Kingston Bridge. I will be there waiting
for you. It is a likely hour to find the King after he comes from
chapel; but I will apply beforehand both in your name and in mine;
for I heard some time ago, from Harry Sherbrooke, that you had won
such praises from William as he seldom bestows on any one."
"At twelve to-morrow!" said Wilton, thoughtfully. "I was to have been
at the Tower at twelve to-morrow. But it matters not. That engagement
I at least may break without losing my honour, or wounding her heart.
But tell me, tell me, Green, is there any hope, is there any chance
of our being successful?"
"There is great hope, there is great chance," replied Green. "I will
not, indeed, say that it is by any means sure; for what is there we
can rely upon on earth? Have I not seen everything break down beneath
me like mere reeds, and shall I now put my faith in any man? But
still, Wilton, I will ask this thing. I will see William of Orange--I
will call him King at once--for King he is in fact; and far more
kingly in his courage and his nature than the weak man who never will
wear the crown of these realms again. We will both urge our petition
to the throne; and even if he have forgotten the last words that he
said to me, those which you have to speak perhaps may prove
sufficient. He is not a cruel or a bloody-minded man; and I