Part 3

"Then would you climb Tower Hill in short order. No, lad, you are an humble 'prentice to Master Robert Juggins."

He rose.

"Come, you shall have your first lesson. You may attend me to the hearing before the Lords of Trade, and you shall carry me a bag of papers rather than a sword."

"But so I shall not aid you," I demurred.

"Aye, but you shall. I wish you to observe what passes at the hearing, and to study Murray. For if he wins his stay, as I fear he will, then it is my purpose to send you to New York for such evidence as will wreck his conspiracy."

"And I will go gladly," I said, a thrill of exultation in my heart at the bare thought of a man's part to play.

"I would I might go with you," sighed Juggins. "But I am old and fat, and granny can ill spare me. No, it calls for youth and strength. But a truce to talk. Let us to Whitehall."

He collected some documents and maps, placed them in a green string-bag and gave it to me to carry.

"And remember," he cautioned me at the door, "do you keep at least two paces behind me. Speak only when I speak to you and hold your head low and your shoulders stooped. Slouch, if you can. If any address you look stupidly at them and mumble an answer. I will explain that you are slow-witted."

But none of the men who stopped Master Juggins during our walk deigned to notice the humble 'prentice lad who followed him. I avoided all scrutiny and reached Whitehall with considerable more self-confidence than I had started with.

The Lords of Trade sat in a lofty chamber of a dirty, gray stone building over against the river. At one end was a dais with a long, closed-in desk across it. Behind this nodded my lords in periwigged majesty, five of them, two fat and pompous, one small and birdlike, one tall and cadaverous and one who looked like nothing at all.

"That is Tom Pelham," whispered Master Juggins, pointing at the last as we took our seats.

But I had already transferred my gaze to an extraordinary creature who stood by a window on the opposite side of the room. It was a black man, squat and enormously broad, whose long, powerful arms reached almost to the floor. He had a square, woolly head, with little, pig-eyes that were studying the people in the room with a kind of animal cunning.

As I watched him, fascinated, his eyes found my face and he surveyed me, apparently without any human interest whatsoever, but as a wild beast might consider a fat stag when too full to care about a kill. He was dressed in a bright-red livery coat with gold lace, and the cocked hat which he held was covered with silver embroidery.

I felt Juggins tugging at my arm.

"Do you see him?" he whispered.

I shuddered involuntarily, whilst the beady, pig-eyes gloated over me.

"I never saw anything so hideous in my life," I answered.

Juggins laughed, as his eyes followed mine.

"No, I meant not the negro. 'Twas Murray I spoke of. He sits several seats farther on."

I looked as directed and picked out a man who lounged back comfortably in a chair, talking with a group of merchants who seemed to hang on his words. He was elegantly clad, yet very quietly, rather in the fashion of a fine gentleman than a rich trader.

Though sitting, he showed himself to be a large man of massive frame. His face was dead-white in complexion, with big features, strongly marked. He wore an immense periwig in the prevailing mode, and there was about him an air of pride and self-confidence. Though he must have been middle-aged, he carried himself like a young man or a soldier.

"He is no enemy to be slighted," I said.

"No, he thrives upon opposition; but----"

A secretary rapped for order.

"To the King's Most Excellent Majesty in Council," he recited from a document he held, "the humble petition and representation of Samuel Baker, Samuel Storke, Richard Janeway and others, merchants of London, trading to New York, in behalf of themselves and the rest of the persons concerned in the New York trade; which petition, having been considered by his Majesty's Council, hath been referred, with his gracious consent, to the Right Hon. the Lords Commissioners for Trade and Plantations."

"You will note," whispered Master Juggins in my ear, "that the name of Murray is not included in the list. That was the cleverest move he made. He appears here, not as the principal, which he is, but at the request of these merchants, who are his decoys, and ostensibly in their interest."

The secretary read on for some minutes, and then came to a stop, looking expectantly at their lordships, who promptly awoke from the naps they had been taking.

"You have heard the petition and reference of the Council read," gabbled Pelham in whining voice. "We will now hear arguments by the opposing sides. Who opens?"

There was some hesitation.

"If it pleases your lordships," spoke up a merchant in the group surrounding Murray, "we would have the opponents of the petition heard first."

"Be it so. Who appears against the petition?"

Master Juggins rose beside me. His arguments were substantially those he had used with me, bulwarked additionally by a mass of facts and statistics. He drew, too, upon several documents in the bag I carried, letters and statements from Governor Burnet of New York and other merchants of that province. When he sat down it seemed to me that no Englishman who thought of his own country's interest could resist the logic of his appeal.

There was a smattering of applause, and then the same merchant who had spoken before introduced Murray, with the remark that he had kindly consented to give his opinion, as he had recently come on a visit to London from the province of New York, where he was in residence.

"The gentleman who preceded me," began Murray, "and who, I am told, once spent some time in our province many years ago, is unfortunately laboring under a misapprehension of the situation. It is not, my lords, as though we had the misfortune to be at war with France. Through the grace of God, the two countries have now been for some years at peace with one another, and their subjects in the New World have striven not to be behind-hand in drawing closer the bonds of trade which in themselves are the best preventative of war."

"Hear, hear," cried his supporters.

"There is no difficulty about this matter which we are discussing," he resumed. "We manufacture in this country more goods of a certain kind than we can consume ourselves. These goods are in great demand amongst the savage tribes which inhabit the interior of North America.

"Both the French and our own traders have use for these goods in the fur-trade, which is growing to be of increasing worth to the London merchants. The French, by reason of their location on the shores of the Great Lakes, which stretch like inland seas across our wilderness, have access to the trade of many tribes which we do not reach.

"If we withhold from the French the goods they require for trading with these tribes they will seek them from the manufacturers of the Low Countries and Germany. Thus our merchants at home will be deprived of a profitable trade, and we provincials will not be bettered. Also, the supply of furs for the London market, much of which comes from the French posts, will be reduced. It seems to me, your lordships, that this prohibitory legislation will only have crippling effects upon trade and hinder the good relations between France and England and their colonies."

He said much more in the same vein, whilst Juggins twisted uneasily in his seat and the attending merchants and even their sleepy lordships hung upon his words. For he was a ready speaker. When he sat down there was hearty applause and Pelham nodded his head as if to say--

"Well done."

But our opponents were not through with us. The merchant who acted as master of ceremonies caused a start of surprize, in which I joined, by bringing forward a handsomely dressed gentleman, whose laced coat and gold-hilted sword showed conspicuously in such drab surroundings.

'Twas Raoul de Veulle; yes, Raoul de Veulle, whose mad exploits and escapades, love-affairs and gambling-debts, had kept all Paris gossiping these past three years and had just driven him into an exile, the facts concerning which had been mysteriously secret. I had known de Veulle well--as a dim star of restricted orbit may know a bright planetary light whose radiance reaches beyond his immediate universe. Once, in fact, we had come together, clashed over a question of honor in which--But I will tell of that in its place.

Now de Veulle stood before us, his handsome face smiling, bowing low before their interested lordships. In charming, broken English he repeated his brief message. He had been requested by his Excellency the French ambassador to appear in this matter in answer to a plea offered by the petitioners to the ambassador for corroborative testimony to the justice of their assertions from a responsible French source.

He himself--he shrugged apologetically--as it happened was Canadian-born; he was just starting upon his way to take up an appointment in the Canadian Government. He ventured to say he knew whereof he spoke. He agreed unhesitatingly with what Monsieur Murray had stated. On behalf of the French Government and of the Canadian authorities he begged to say that such legislation as New York wished to have perpetuated would have most unhealthy effects upon the trade and politics of their two countries. He thanked their lordships for their forbearance, made a second courtly bow and withdrew.

Master Juggins sprang to his feet, his honest face aflush.

"Many of the assertions of Master Murray and----"

Pelham waved him to his seat.

"We have heard enough," pronounced the whining voice. "You have no other first-hand witnesses from overseas!"

"No, your lordships," admitted Juggins reluctantly.

"Then further talk is fruitless," he went on, while his colleagues nodded their sleepy assent. "We are agreed that there seems to be some difference of opinion concerning this measure. Were it not for the fact that his Majesty's Governor of New York appears to favor the bill, we should consider the case made out against it unanswerable. But in view of Governor Burnet's approval we are resolved that the matter shall be referred back to him with a request for a full report upon the issues raised, and pending the receipt of this report and a decision being reached his Majesty's Government will not take action in the premises.

"Good relations with the Government of his Most Catholic Majesty must be preserved, and the utmost care should be maintained that no injustice be done, however unwittingly, to any of the subjects of the two countries.

"What is the next case for consideration?"

The petitioners, much gratified, flocked around Murray and his ape-like servant, and I followed Master Juggins from the chamber and out into Whitehall.

"The scoundrel!" he exclaimed. "But 'twas no more than I had expected."

"And what will happen next?" I asked.

"If I know Governor Burnet as well as I think I do, Murray and his French friends will draw slight comfort from their triumph today."

"Why? What can he do?"

"Nothing official, 'tis true; but remember he is three thousand miles from London and therefore able to think for himself. With you to help him----"

I felt something brush against my coat sleeve and looked around. I had just time to see the back of a gaudy red coat and a woolly black head, crowned by an ornate cocked hat, disappearing in the crowd.

"Do you see?" I said.

"Aye," responded Juggins grimly; "I might have known it. Well, 'tis a lesson in time. We will not forget it."

IV

FIVE BERTHS ON THE NEW VENTURE

We turned from Whitehall into the crowded Strand.

"Murray will figure that this delay gives him time to bribe and buy his will, either in Governor Burnet's Council or in the Government here," continued Master Juggins, with a watchful eye against the return of the spy. "At the worst he will think that he should be able to withstand the law's execution for several years, and in that time much may be done--aye, much may be done, and in more than one way." he concluded grimly.

"Then doubtless Murray will send at once a swift messenger to New York so that his friends may set to work in his interest," I suggested.

Juggins stopped abruptly in the center of the footway.

"No, he will go himself. 'Tis too important for trusting to another. That was well thought of, Master Harry. We must not let him get ahead of us. You must sail on the first passage available. Do you follow me."

And he started off as fast as his legs could carry him, bumping and prodding his person against all who did not move from his path.

"Whither are we bound now?" I panted.

"To Master Lloyd's Coffee-House, where the ship-owners resort for trade. We shall find news of the sailings there."

We followed the Strand past Temple Bar into Fleet Street, and so trod a path into the labyrinth of the City--that congested hive of humanity whence the mighty energies of England radiated in a constant struggle for control of the world's arteries of trade. Used though I was to the busy life of Paris, I was amazed by the throngs of people hurrying to and fro, the concentration of effort that was everywhere visible, the numbers of different races represented on the sidewalks, the signs and letterings that hung over doorways and in windows, proclaiming the multiplicity of endeavors to which the merchants of the city were committed.

"Mark well what you see around you, Master Harry," Juggins instructed me. "London hath prospered under King George. Here are come traders out of Muscovy, Cathay, the further Indies, the Spanish Main, the country of the Moors, Turkey, our own Western Plantations. And here at last is Master Lloyd's Tavern."

Many men stood on the cobbles outside talking. The coffee-room and taproom also were filled. Master Juggins pushed his way through the shifting groups until he reached a burly, stout man who sat by himself at a table, sucking fragrant Mocha from a bowl.

"And what will you ha', Bob Juggins!" demanded the burly man in a sulky voice.

As he spoke he pushed the bowl of coffee from him and produced a dog-eared record-book, bound in filthy sheepskin, from a pocket in the skirts of his coat.

"A good afternoon to you, Tom Jenkins," returned Juggins. "You gentry are sitting late this afternoon."

"We ha' been making up the subscriptions for the Baltic Fleet," yawned the burly man.

"And how are sailings to the Western Plantations?"

"Ameriky?"

"Aye, New York province."

"From Bristol?"

Master Juggins hesitated, then shook his head.

"No, I must have an early passage," he decided. "'Twould take too long to ride thither."

The burly man consulted his record-book.

"We ha' the ship _New Venture_, Abbot, master, sailing from Greenwich the end of the week--say, Saturday post meridian. What's your cargo?"

"'Tis not cargo, but a man I would send on her."

Master Jenkins shook his head forebodingly.

"I fear me she's full up, Bob."

"How does that happen?"

"But yesterday we sold four places on her--and she hath limited quarters for passengers."

Juggins threw me a humorous glance.

"I'll be bound 'tis Master Murray of New York she's to carry," he declared.

"Why, that's true," admitted Jenkins. "And some Frenchy, a friend o' his."

I forgot my role of 'prentice lad, and shoved myself across the table.

"Not de Veulle? The Chevalier de Veulle?" I challenged him.

Jenkins looked at me with mingled amusement and indignation.

"Who's your green lad that hankers for the Frenchies so?" he asked Juggins.

My master sent me spinning to the floor.

"Mind your place, boy," he rebuked me.

Then he continued half-apologetically to Master Jenkins--

"This de Veulle put a slight upon me before the Lords of Trade, and the lad--'tis a good youth and devoted, though fresh come out of Dorset, as you may see--was most indignant on my behalf."

Jenkins blinked his eyes.

"Humph," said he.

"And now about the passage?" resumed Juggins. "I'll pay well. Sure, you can always find room for an extra man on shipboard."

"What will you pay?"

"Three guineas."

"Four," countered Jenkins in a monotonous tone.

"Four, then," agreed Juggins, "and may the extra guinea find a hole in your pocket."

The ship-owner nodded dispassionately, and made an entry in his book.

"Four guineas," he repeated.

Juggins drew the coins from a purse and clinked them on the table.

"You'll never lose a debt, will you, Tom?"

"Not if I can help it," Tom agreed.

"And is it de Veulle sails with Murray?"

"Aye; he goes on some Government mission for Canada."

"But why does he not sail from Havre in a French ship for Quebec?"

"The St. Lawrence is frozen. There will be no French ships for Canada for two months yet."

Juggins pursed his lips in that quaint gesture of a whistle which was a characteristic trait.

"They use our goods," he muttered; "they use our rivers, our trading-posts, our people, the tribes which are friendly to us--and now they use our ships."

"Often," admitted Jenkins disinterestedly. "Since the Peace of Utrecht we ha' done a sight o' shipping business with the Frenchies."

"'Tis to our shame," declared Master Juggins roundly.

"Why, 'tis business," answered Jenkins with his first show of interest. "Would you have a merchant reject the trade that came his way?"

"Aye, if 'twas not to his interest to accept it," rejoined Juggins.

"Show me a heathen, let alone a Frenchy, will pay a farthing more than an Englishman, and I'll show you a better customer," said the ship-owner. "Trade is trade. Leave politics to governments. If I make not my own living, will the gentry at Westminster carry my debts? I think not."

Juggins swelled with indignation.

"God help England when men like you come to rule it, Tom Jenkins!" he declared. "Good afternoon to you."

"One moment," interposed Jenkins. "You ha' not given me the name of my passenger."

"Must you have it?"

"Aye. How else shall I know whom to admit on board?"

"'Tis this youth here."

"He who hath the interest in the Frenchy?" responded Jenkins. "Well, lad, keep your hands off him, despite his insults to your master. And what's your name?"

"Bill," I said in a voice I made as hoarse as I could.

"Bill," he repeated. "'Tis a good plain name. But you must ha' more to it. So the custom officers will say."

"'Tis Juggins," interposed my master. "The lad is a cousin once removed. He goes to seek employment in the New World. To tell the truth, though strong and willing, he is not overburdened with wits. But he can swing an ax as well as any one, and his muscles should bring him good hire on some wilderness farm."

"Aye," agreed Master Jenkins tonelessly.

He wrote the name carefully in his record-book, slipped it back in his coat-tails and returned to his bowl of Mocha. The sucking of his lips was the last sound I heard as we left the table.

In the street Juggins turned upon me indignantly. "Would you ruin us, Master Harry!" he demanded. "Zooks, you were like to plunge yourself into trouble by your forward manner! I'll wager Jenkins is wondering now whether you are a criminal or only a half-wit."

"Not he," I replied confidently. "He hath his four guineas, and a reasonable explanation for the receiving of it, and he will not worry about Government or the character of the man who paid him."

"Mayhap," said Juggins doubtfully. "But for your own sake, lad, mind the playing of your part till you have the Atlantic behind you. Why did you flare up over this de Veulle?"

"Because I know him."

This time 'twas Juggins who forgot our parts, for he stopped me in front of St. Paul's and grasped my arm.

"You know him? But----"

"I know him and I hate him," I answered doggedly.

"Why? What hath he done!"

"Oh, he owes me nothing. Like enough he thinks the obligation is the other way. He is one of the gallants of the Court in Paris. He came out of Canada some three years ago, and made a reputation for gambling, fickleness and daredeviltry of all kinds. I never had the money to mingle with him and his friends, but once in the Toison d'Or I heard him slur the poor young man I then served."

"James!"

"I called him King James in those days," I answered. "Yes, de Veulle was mocking the petty motley of our exiled Court, mocking it as much as anything else because he sought to humiliate the two Englishmen in the room.

"'What is this King but a puppet figure for us to dandle in England's face!' he said. 'And what are his courtiers but other puppets to dress the show?'"

"His toadies all laughed. They laughed so that they did not see the other Englishman and me rise in our seats.

"'And the most comical thing of all,' ended de Veulle, 'is to think of this Puppet King, with a Puppet Court, ruling over a Puppet England while France pulls the strings--as will surely happen some day.'"

"It was then I knocked him out of his chair."

Master Juggins gripped me by the hand with a warmth that surprized me.

"Good lad!" he exclaimed. "I would have done it myself!"

"What! You are no Jacobite!"

"I am no Jacobite," he replied in some confusion, "but no more were you a Jacobite when you struck him. 'Twas for England, Master Harry; and a man's country means more than any king that ever ruled. But what came after?"

"We fought in the upper room of the Toison d'Or--de Veulle and I and a friend of his and my friend. My friend was badly wounded."

"And you?"

"I disarmed my opponent."

"Only that!" remonstrated Juggins whimsically.

"Well, I disarmed him several times. When we began to fence I found he knew little of the small-sword--remember, he had been brought up in Canada--and 'twould not have been pretty to slay a man so at my mercy. Also, to treat him as I did was more humiliating to his pride than death."

"You did well, Master Harry. But granny will be awaiting us. We must hasten."

He walked in silence until we had reached the house in Holborn.

"How comes de Veulle in London?" he asked suddenly as we climbed the stairs.

"He was in some trouble in Paris--what, I know not. The rumor was that he was ordered into exile. But if he sails for Canada, as Master Jenkins says----"

"And on the same ship with Murray," interposed Juggins excitedly, "after appearing in Murray's behalf this afternoon----"

"--then there may be more to his enterprise than the mere punishment of exile from the Court," I concluded.

"'Tis so!" exclaimed Juggins. "Beyond doubt 'tis so. Aye, Master Harry, this will be no ordinary struggle I send you upon. And mayhap de Veulle will recognize you."

I struck him heavily on the shoulder.

"Do you think 'my father's son' will draw back on such excuse at this hour!" I said.

He laughed ruefully, and raised his hail for granny.

"Ho, Goody! Goody, hast lain abed all day! Here are two hungry forest-runners will eat your kitchen bare."

Granny tripped into the hall, a mug of bitter ale in either hand.

"I heard what you said, and Master Harry's answer," she rebuked him. "Think shame on yourself, Robert, to hint that he would hesitate before peril--and you sending him into it, too," she added somewhat illogically, I thought. "Now, do both of you drain these. 'Twill wash the taste of the streets and taverns from your mouths."

We obeyed her.

"And what luck did you have?" she demanded next.

"He leaves us Saturday," said Juggins simply.

She cried out.

"So soon! Must it be, Robert? Sure, the lad should have some respite from toil and fear!"

"If he is to go, he must go then," rejoined Juggins. "'Twas because I felt as you did that I said what you heard, granny."

"And 'twas because he had a sound heart in him that he answered as he did," she snapped. "If he is to go, he should go, I dare say; and the greater the peril, the greater the reward. Now come with me. The meal is made ready."