The Masqueraders

My lord evinced not the smallest discomfiture. ‘My son, if you think I lie in any man’s power you do not know me. As for you to be in danger when my wing is spread over you is not possible.’ He spoke with a tinge of severity in his voice.

Sir Anthony had risen at his entrance, and bowed now. ‘You stand in no danger from me, sir.’

My lord surveyed him haughtily. ‘I stand in no danger from anyone, my dear Sir Anthony. You have no knowledge of me. You are to be pitied.’

‘Envied, more like,’ said his undutiful son.

Sir Anthony’s mouth twitched, but he suppressed the smile. ‘Let us hope, sir, that I’m not to be long in dismal ignorance. I aspire to the hand of your daughter.’

The severity left my lord; he beamed, and spread open his arms. ‘I am to embrace a second son, enfin ! You aspire – it is well said! Tremaine of Barham’s daughter may look to the highest quarters for a mate.’

‘You’re abashed,’ Robin told Sir Anthony.

He seemed to be struggling more with amusement, however. ‘Why, sir, I hope you’ll look kindly on my suit.’

‘I will give my consideration,’ my lord promised. ‘We must speak more of this.’

‘By all means, sir. But I think it only fair to tell you I have the fixed intention of wedding Prudence whatever your decision may be.’

My lord eyed him a moment in silence, but displayed no anger. On the contrary, his smile grew. ‘I perceive you to be a man after my own heart!’ he announced.

‘It’s a compliment,’ Robin said, on a note of information, and folded his hands in his lap.

‘Certainly it is a compliment. You see clearly, my son. But we must think on this; it is a matter of some weight.’

‘There’s another matter of some weight also, sir. I desire to serve your son here. I’ve some influence, as I tell him, and I will use it on his behalf with your consent.’

My lord became all blank bewilderment. ‘I don’t take you, sir. What is it you have a mind to do for my son?’

‘Well, sir, I’ve some notion of getting a pardon for him. I believe it may be done.’

My lord struck an attitude. ‘A pardon, sir? For what, pray?’

‘For his share in the late Rebellion, sir. Does he want one for something else beside?’

‘That!’ My lord brushed it aside. ‘I have forgotten all that. It is nothing; it lies in the dead past. Oblige me by forgetting it likewise.’

‘Oh, with all my heart, sir. But there are perhaps some whose memories are not so short. A pardon is necessary if Robin wants to remain in England, and come out of those clothes.’

My lord put up an admonishing finger. ‘Sir Anthony, I acquit you of a desire to insult me. Don’t cry pardon. I have said that I acquit you. But you do not know me; you even doubt my powers. It is laughable! Believe me, there is greatness in me. It would astonish you.’

‘Not at all,’ said Sir Anthony politely.

‘But yes! I doubt now that you, even you whom I would embrace as a son, have not the soul to appreciate me. You make it plain. I pity you, sir!’

‘At least I have the soul to appreciate your daughter,’ mildly remarked Sir Anthony.

‘That I expect,’ said his lordship loftily. ‘To see my daughter is to become her slave. I exact such homage on her behalf. She is incomparably lovely. But I – I am different. My children are very well. They have beauty, and wit – a little. But in me there is a subtlety such as you don’t dream of, sir.’ He pondered it sadly. ‘I have never met the man who had vision large enough to appreciate my genius,’ he said simply. ‘Perhaps it was not to be expected.’

‘I shall hope to have my vision enlarged as I become better acquainted with you, sir,’ Sir Anthony replied, with admirable gravity.

My lord shook his head. He could not believe in so large a comprehension. ‘I shall stand alone to the end,’ he said. ‘It is undoubtedly my fate.’

Sir Anthony gave the conversation a dexterous turn: the old gentleman seemed to be in danger of slipping into mournful contemplation of his own unappreciated greatness. ‘Just as you please, sir, but I want to put an end to a notion Prudence has of emulating your noble solitude. I wish to take her out of this masquerade, and have her safe under the protection of my name.’

My lord’s piercing eyes flashed at that. ‘I make allowance for a lover’s feelings!’ he cried. ‘But while I live she stands in no need of another’s protection. I am the person to guard her, Sir Anthony.’

‘You are, sir, certainly,’ Fanshawe said. There was an edge to his words which did not escape my lord.