“And I’ll lay an hundred guineas to a farthing the fellow would put his head on the block for Charles now,” cut in his Lordship, with his hand on Mr. Fox’s shoulder.  “Behold, O Prophet,” he cried, “one who is become the champion of the People he reviled!  Behold the friend of Rebellion and ‘Lese Majeste’, the viper in Britannia’s bosom!”

“Oh, have done, Jack,” said Mr. Fox, impatiently, “you have no more music in your soul than a cow.  Damned little virtue attaches to it, Richard,” he went on.  “North threw me out, and the king would have nothing to do with me, so I had to pick up with you rebels and traitors.”

“You will not believe him, Richard,” cried my Lord; “you have only to look at him to see that he lies.  Take note of the ragged uniform of the rebel army he carries, and then think of him ‘en petite maitre’, with his cabriolet and his chestnuts.  Egad, he might be as rich as Rigby were it not for those principles which he chooses to deride.  And I have seen him reduced to a crown for them.  I tell you, Richard,” said my Lord, “by espousing your cause Charles is become greater than the King.  For he has the hearts of the English people, which George has not, and the allegiance of you Americans, which George will never have.  And if you once heard him, in Parliament, you should hear him now, and see the Speaker wagging his wig like a man bewitched, and hear friends and enemies calling out for him to go on whenever he gives the sign of a pause.”

This speech of his Lordship’s may seem cold in the writing, my dears, and you who did not know him may wonder at it.  It had its birth in an admiration few men receive, and which in Charles Fox’s devoted coterie was dangerously near to idolatry.  During the recital of it Charles walked to the window, and there stood looking out upon the gray prospect, seemingly paying but little attention.  But when Comyn had finished, he wheeled on us with a smile.

“Egad, he will be telling you next that I have renounced the devil and all his works, Richard,” said he.

“’Oohs, that I will not,” his Lordship made haste to declare.  “For they were born in him, and will die with him.”

“And you, Jack,” I asked, “how is it that you are not in arms for the King, and commanding one of his frigates?”

“Why, it is Charles’s fault,” said my Lord, smiling.  “Were it not for him I should be helping Sir George Collier lay waste to your coast towns.”

CHAPTER LV

“The love of A maid for A man”

The next morning, when Dr. Barry had gone, Mrs. Manners propped me up in bed and left me for a little, so she said.  Then who should come in with my breakfast on a tray but my lady herself, looking so fresh and beautiful that she startled me vastly.

“A penny for your thoughts, Richard,” she cried.  “Why, you are as grave as a screech-owl this brave morning.”