“ Think of Sir William Davenant, dear Mistress, and his affection for Mr. Betterton; think of my Lord Roscommon and of Sir Charles Sedley and his Lordship of Rochester, whose Admiration for Mr. Betterton's Talent was only equalled by their Appreciation for His Worth! It was before them all, before all these fastidious Gentlemen, that the great and sensitive Artist had elected to humble his Pride to the dust.
But you shall judge.
"Gentlemen," Mr. Betterton went on after a brief while; "We all know that Love is a Game at which one always cheats. I loved the Lady Barbara Wychwoode. ”

“ I felt no longer like a Man, but like a petrified Statue of Indignation and of Hate. The sound of my Lord Stour's Voice had just struck upon mine ear. Vaguely through the gloom I could see him and Lord Douglas Wychwoode parleying with those abominable Ruffians.... I heard the jingle of Money ... Blood Money ... the ring of ribald laughter, snatches of a bibulous song.
These sounds and the clang of the Gentlemen's footsteps upon the cobble-stones also reached Mr. Betterton's fast-fading Senses. I felt a tremor coursing right through his limbs. ”

“ Betterton hath never forfeited your Esteem by any Act or Thought. The Infatuation which momentarily dulled his Vision to all save to the Beauty of the Lady Barbara, hath ceased to exist. Its course was ephemeral and hath gone without a Trace of Regret or Bitterness in its wake. The eminent Actor, the high-souled Artist, whom all cultured Europe doth reverence and admire, stands as high to-day in that same World's Estimation as he did, before a young and arrogant Coxcomb dared to measure his own Worth against that of a Man as infinitely above him as are the Stars. ”

“ Betterton, I should have been irretrievably separated from You. But in my Heart I knew that, though the great Man was not in pressing need of a Secretary, his soul did even long and yearn for a Friend. A more devoted one, I vow, did not exist than my humble self; and when, during the early part of the autumn, You, dear Mistress, finally decided to leave your present uncomfortable quarters for lodgings more befitting your growing Fame and your Talents, there was nothing more to keep me tied to my dour and unsympathetic Employer, and to his no less unpleasant Spouse. ”

“ You refuse to cross swords with Tom Betterton, the son of a Menial, as you choose to say? Very well, then, 'tis Thomas Betterton, the Artist of undying renown, who now declares war against You. For every Jeer to-day, for every Insult and for every Blow, he will be even with You; for he will launch against You the irresistible Thunderbolt that kills worse than death and which is called Dishonour! ”

“ She looked proud and commanding as a Queen, looking through the veil of her lashes at Mr. Betterton as if he were a supplicating Slave rather than the great Artist whom cultured Europe delighted to honour. Never did I admire my Friend so much as I did then. His self-possession was perfect: his attitude just the right balance 'twixt deference due to a beautiful Woman and the self-assurance which comes of conscious Worth. ”

“ I could, just by closing mine eyes, see him sitting beside the hearth, with the lovely Lady Barbara beaming at him from the place opposite, and his Friend standing by, backing him up with Word and Deed in all his Arrogance and Overbearing.
"The Earl of Stour cannot cross swords with a Mountebank."
I seemed to hear those Words reverberating across the street like the clank of some ghostly Bell; and whenever mine ears rang to their sound I felt the hot Blood of a just Wrath surge up to my cheeks and my feeble Hands would close in a Clutch, that was fierce as it was impotent. ”

“ Many there are who will tell You that they have not the faintest conception of what crime my Lord Stour stands accused. Others aver that they'll not believe any Slander that may be levelled against so high-souled a Gentleman. Nevertheless, the Slander continues. Nay! it gathers volume as it worms its way from one house to another, shedding poison in its wake as it drifts by; and more and more People now affect to look another way when the Earl of Stour comes nigh them, and to be otherwise engaged when he desires to shake them by the hand. ”

“ I heard my Lord of Rochester's characteristic Laugh, Sir William Davenant's dictatorial tones and the high-pitched Cackle of Mr. Killigrew.
So doth our Mind oft dwell on trivial Thoughts at times of gravest Stress. Her Ladyship had sat down on a low Stool beside the Window. I could only see the vague outline of her—the Expression of her Face, the very Poise of her Head, were wrapt in the surrounding Gloom.
For awhile there was perfect Silence in the Room, save for the monotonous ticking of the old Clock and the scratching of Mr. Betterton's Pen as he wrote with a rapid and unhesitating Hand. ”

“ I was not egotistical enough to persuade myself that love of Country and loyalty to my King were the sole motive powers of my Resolve. My innermost Heart, my Conscience perhaps, told me that an ugly Desire for Revenge had helped to stimulate my patriotic Ardour. I had realized that it lay in my power to avenge upon an impious Malapert the hideous Outrage which he had perpetrated against the Man whom I loved best in all the World.
I had realized, in fact, that I could become the instrument of Mr. Betterton's revenge. ”

“ So many People plotted these days, so many Conspiracies were hatched then blown upon, that I for one imagine that Mr. Baggs had a hand in several of these and was paid high Fees for his share in them. Then, when anything untoward happened, when mere Chance, or else a Traitor among the Traitors, caused the Conspiracy to abort, the worthy Attorney would metaphorically shake the dust of political Intrigue from his shabby shoes, and make a bonfire of every compromising Document that might land him in the Tower and further. After which, he was no doubt ready to begin all over again. ”

“ Once more his well-shaped hand went up, as if in gentle protest, and he uttered a kind and deprecating "Oh!"
"You look upon the Earl of Stour as your enemy!" she insisted.
"I have so many, your Ladyship," he riposted with a smile.
"'Twas you who obtained his Pardon from my Lady Castlemaine."
"The inference is scarcely logical," he retorted. "A man does not as a rule sue for pardon for his Enemy."
"I think," she rejoined slowly, "that in this case Mr. Betterton did the illogical thing."
"Then I do entreat your Ladyship," he protested with mock terror, "not to repeat this calumny. ”

“ You were independent now, earning a good salary, paying Mistress Euphrosine liberally for the lodgings which she placed at your disposal; free to come and go as You pleased, to receive the visits of Gentlemen who were desirous of paying their respects to You. You were, in fact, Mistress Saunderson, the well-known Actress, who was busy climbing—and swiftly, too—the Ladder of Fame.
Of your proposed Marriage with Mr. Betterton there was of course no longer any talk. For some reason best known to herself, and which I myself never tried to fathom, even Mistress Euphrosine had ceased to speak of it. ”

“ Betterton's quick step ascending the stairs, we all held our breath and watched the door as if something Supernatural was about to be revealed to us.
The next moment that door was thrown open and Mr. Betterton appeared upon the threshold.
Ah! if only You had seen him then, Mistress, your heart would have rejoiced, just as mine did, at the sight. Personally, I could never tell You if Mr. Betterton is tall or short, handsome or ill-favoured; all that I know is that when he is in a room you cannot look at any one else; he seems to dwarf every other Man by the Picturesqueness of his Personality. ”

“ Betterton listened to him until the end. You know that Power which he hath of seeming to tower above every one who stands nigh him? Well! he exercised that Power now. He stepped quite close to my Lord Stour, and though the latter is of more than average height, Mr. Betterton literally appeared to soar above him, with the sublime Magnificence of an outraged Man coming into his own at last.
"My Lord of Stour," he said, with perfect quietude, "a few weeks ago you insulted me as Man never dared to insult Man before. ”

“ Betterton gave haughty answer. "Therefore an Artist, even though an humble one; but still a World contained in one Man."
Then his manner changed, the stiffness and pride went out of it and he added in his more habitual mode of good-natured banter, whilst pointing in the direction of Mistress Euphrosine:
"That, however, is not, I imagine, the opinion which my worthy Sister—a pious Lady, Sir—hath of my talents. She only concedes me a Soul when she gloats over the idea that it shall be damned." ”

“ It was in Your Ladyship's name that the Earl of Stour put upon Me the deadliest Insult which any Man hath ever put on Man before. Since then, every Fibre within Me has clamoured for Satisfaction. My Work hath been irksome to me ... I scarce could think ... My Genius lay writhing in an agony of Shame. But now the hour is mine—for it I have schemed and lied—aye, lied—like the low-born cur You say I am. A thousand Devils of Hate and of Rage are unchained within me. ”

“ Then he paused abruptly, for he had caught sight of me, kneeling there, an humble and, I doubt not, a pathetic Figure; and, as you know, Mr. Betterton's heart is ever full of Pity for the Lowly and the Weak. By the flickering candle light I could distinguish his noble Features, a moment ago almost distorted with Passion, but now, all of a sudden, illumined by tender Sympathy. ”

“ It was not to be wondered at that the Scandal against my Lord Stour, which was started in the Green Room of the Theatre, grew in Magnitude with amazing Rapidity. I could not tell you, dear Mistress, what my innermost feelings were in regard to the Matter: being an humble and ignorant Clerk and devoted to the one Man to whom I owe everything that makes life pleasing. ”

“ She vows that there is nothing she would not do for You. And, as already You are such a favourite with His Majesty, why, Man! there is no end to your good fortune."
And I, who watched Mr. Betterton's face again, thought to detect a strange, mysterious look in his eyes—something hidden and brooding was going on behind that noble brow, something that was altogether strange to the usually simple, unaffected and sunny temperament of the great Artist, and which I, his intimate Confidant and Friend, had not yet been able to fathom. ”

“ This last Gibe, however, brought my Lord Stour's exasperation to a raging Fury. Pushing unceremoniously past His Grace of Albemarle, who stood before him, he took a step forward and confronted Mr. Betterton eye to eye and, drawing himself up to his full Height, he literally glowered down upon the great Artist, who stood his Ground, placid and unmoved.
"Insolent Varlet!" came in raucous tones from the young Lord's quivering lips. "If you had a spark of chivalry or of honour in You——"
At the arrogant Insult every one drew their breath. A keen Excitement flashed in every eye. ”

“ What she said, I do not quite remember; but it was a Remark which must have stung him to the quick, for I can assure You, dear Mistress, that Mr. Betterton's pride is at least equal to that of the greatest Nobleman in the land. But all that he did say was:
"Nay, Madam; an Artist's love is not an insult, even to a Queen." ”

“ Never had so strange a task been put upon a simple-minded Plebeian: for these were matters pertaining to Gentlemen. I knew less than nothing of Duels, Affairs of Honour, or such like; yet here was I—John Honeywood, an humble Attorney's Clerk—sent to convey a challenge for a Duel to a high and noble Lord, in the manner most approved by Tradition.
I was ready to swoon with Fright; for, in truth, I am naught but a timid Rustic. In spite of the cold and the rain I felt a rush of hot blood coursing up and down my Spine. ”

“ Betterton replied blandly. "And after I have spoken it to-morrow, I shall speak it again and yet again, until its purport is known throughout the length and breadth of the Land. The subject of that Epilogue, Madam, will be the secret History of a certain aborted Conspiracy, and how it was betrayed in exchange for a free Pardon by one of our noblest Gentlemen in England. Then, I pray your Ladyship to mark what will happen," he continued, and his melodious voice became as hard and trenchant as the clang of metal striking metal. ”

“ Betterton's quietly ironical laugh broke in upon his senseless ebullitions.
"Liar?—Scoundrel, am I?" he said lightly, and, still laughing, he turned to the Gentlemen who stood beside him. "Nay! if the sight of a Scoundrel offends his Lordship, he should shut himself up in his own Room ... and break his Mirror!"
At this, my Lord Stour lost the last vestige of his self-control, seized Mr. Betterton by the Shoulder and verily, I thought, made as if he would strike him.
"You shall pay for this Insolence!" he cried. ”

“ She was standing close in front of him just then, with her back to him and her hands raised up to her shoulders in order to receive her cloak, which he had somewhat roughly snatched out of her grasp.
"My Arm?" he riposted, with a vibrating note of passion in his mellow voice. "My Life, myself, are all at your Ladyship's service. But will not you wait one little moment and say one kind word to the poor Actor whose Art is the delight of Kings, and whose Person is the butt of every Coxcomb who calls himself a Gentleman?" ”

“ Betterton to the greatest possible Advantage. No doubt that his overwhelming Success at that time was in a great measure due to his familiarity with all those authentic-looking doors and trees and distant skies which at first bewildered such old-fashioned actors as Mr. Harris or the two Messrs. Noakes.
Never indeed had Mr. Betterton been so great as he was now. Never had his Talents stood so high in the estimation of the cultured World. His success as Alvaro in "Love and Honour," as Solyman in the "Siege of Rhodes," as Hamlett or Pericles, stand before me as veritable Triumphs. ”

“ Has any Man ever realized that Woman is fooling him, when she really sets her Wiles to entrap him? Surely not a Man of Mr. Betterton's keen, artistic and hot-blooded Temperament. I saw it all now, yet I dared not move. For one thing, the time had gone by when I might have done it with good Effect. Now it was too late. Any interference on my part would only have led to Ignominy for myself and the severance of a Friendship that I valued more than Life itself. Betwixt a Friend's warning and a Woman's Cajolery, what Man would hesitate? ”

“ You raised your insolent hand against me—against me, the Artist, whom God Himself hath crowned with Immortality. For a moment then, my outraged Manhood clamoured for satisfaction. I asked You to cross swords with me, for You seemed to me ... then ... worthy of that Honour. But to-day, my Lord of Stour," he continued, whilst every Word he spoke seemed to strike upon the ear like Blows from a relentless Hammer; "Traitor to your Friends, Liar and Informer!!!! Bah! His Majesty's Well-Beloved Servant cannot fight with such as You!" ”

“ His eyes had assumed an unnatural Fire; his whole appearance as he stood there against the solid background of the massive door, was sublime in its forceful Expression of towering Wrath and of bitter, deadly Humiliation.
Even those two miserable Coxcombs paused for an instant, silenced and awed by what they saw. The laughter died upon their lips; the studied sneer upon their Face gave place to a transient expression of fear.
Mr. Betterton's arm was now extended and with trembling hand he pointed at Lord Stour. ”