Edward Stratemeyer - "On the Trail of Pontiac"

Euripedes - "The Iphigenia in Tauris"

G.A. Henty - "A Knight of the White Cross"

John Fox, Jr. - "The Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: The King\'s Highway

G >> G. P. R. James >> The King\'s Highway




"Nonsense, Lady Mary!" exclaimed Fenwick; "neither you nor be know
anything of what my charges are, or in what my hopes consist. My
charge against the Duke shall stand as I have given it; and you may
tell him, that it is not on my evidence alone he will be condemned;
so that yours, young man, will not tend much to save him."

Wilton saw that it would be useless to urge the matter any farther at
that moment, though, notwithstanding the perverse determination shown
by the prisoner, he was not without hope that their conversation
might ultimately produce some effect upon his mind.

"Well, Sir John," he said, "I will keep you no longer from
conversation with your lady. I grieve for you on every account. I
grieve to see you here, I grieve for the situation in which you have
placed yourself, and I still more grieve to see you struggling to
deliver yourself from that situation by means which MAY PRODUCE the
destruction of others, and will certainly PRODUCE your own."

"I neither want your grief, nor care for it, sir," replied the
prisoner. "Good night, good night."

Wilton then turned and left him; but Lady Mary Fenwick accompanied
the young gentleman into the passage, saying in a low voice, "The
Earl of Byerdale has seen him twice. You will do well to be upon
your guard there."

"Thank you, lady, thank you," replied Wilton. "I am upon my guard,
and am most grateful for what you have done."

Thus saying, he left her: and as it was too late, at that hour, to
visit the prisoner in the Tower, he turned towards his own home; but
ere he reached it, he bethought him of seeking some farther
information from the public reports of the day, which were only to be
met with in their highest perfection in the several different resorts
of wits and politicians which have become familiar to our minds in
the writings of Steele and Addison. Will's and the Chocolate-house,
and other places of the same kind, supplied in a very great degree
the places of the Times, the Herald, the Globe, or the Courier; and
though the Postman and several other papers gave a scanty share of
information, yet the inner room of the St. James's Coffee-house might
be considered as representing the leading article to the newspaper of
the day.

To one or two of these houses, then, Wilton repaired, and found the
whole town still busy with the arrest of Sir John Fenwick, and with
the names of persons he was said to have accused. If the rumours were
to be believed, he had brought charges of one kind or another against
half the high nobility and statesmen of the land. The King's servants
and most familiar friends, many who were still actually employed by
him, and many who had aided to seat him on the throne, were all said
to be accused of treasonable communications with the court of St.
Germain; and Wilton had the satisfaction of thinking, that if there
were, indeed, any safety in numbers, the Duke had that security at
least.

When he had satisfied himself on this point, he returned to his own
house, to meditate upon the best defence which could be set up for
the noble prisoner. None, however, suggested itself better than that
which he had sketched out in his conversation with Sir John Fenwick;
and without loss of time he put it down in writing, in order to take
the Duke's opinion upon it. There was one flaw, indeed, in the chain
which he could not but see, and which he feared might be used by an
enemy to the Duke's disadvantage. He could prove, that after Lady
Laura had been carried away the Duke had no opportunity whatever of
disclosing the plot until it was already discovered; but
unfortunately, between the time of the meeting in Leadenhall-street
and the period at which the conspirators so daringly bore off the
lady from the terrace there had been a lapse of some time, during
which her father might have made any communication to the government
that he liked. There was a hope, however, that this might pass
unremarked; and at all events what he proposed was the only defence
that could be set up.

On the following morning, when he saw the Earl of Byerdale, he
inquired if he had seen the Duke; but found that such was not the
case, business being the excuse for having failed in his promise.
Wilton, however, proceeded to the Tower as soon as he was free, and
found Laura now sharing the apartments assigned to her father, and
striving to support and comfort him, but apparently in vain. The
Duke's mind was still in a terrible state of depression; and the want
of all certain intelligence, the failure of the Earl of Byerdale's
promise, and the absence of Wilton, had caused his anxiety apparently
to increase rather than to diminish, since the first day of his
imprisonment.

We must not pause upon the various interviews which succeeded, and
were painful enough. Wilton had little to tell that could give the
Duke any comfort. The determined adherence of Sir John Fenwick to his
charge, the sort of indifference which the Earl of Byerdale displayed
in regard to the prisoner's situation, neglecting to see him, though
repeatedly promising to do so, all served to depress his spirits day
by day, and to render him altogether insensible to the voice of
comfort. Towards Wilton himself the Earl resumed a portion of his
reserve and gravity; and though he still called him, "My dear
Wilton," and "My dear boy," when he addressed him, he spoke to him
very little upon any subject, except mere matters of business, and
checked every approach to the topic on which Wilton would most
willingly have entered.

On the seventh or eighth day of the Duke's imprisonment, however,
Lord Sherbrooke again appeared in town; but the Earl employed Wilton
constantly, during the whole of that day; so much so, indeed, that
his secretary could not help believing that there was effort apparent
in it, in order to prevent his holding any private communication with
his friend. At length, however, he suffered him to return home, but
not till nearly ten at night, by which time Lord Sherbrooke had left
the house, to go to some great entertainment.

Scarcely had Wilton passed the door, when he found some one take hold
of his arm, and to his surprise found the young nobleman by his side.

"I have been watching for you eagerly, Wilton," he said, "for it
seems to me, that the game is going against you, and I see the faces
of the cards."

"I am very anxious indeed about the Duke, if such be your meaning,
Sherbrooke," replied Wilton.

"And I am so also," answered Lord Sherbrooke. "What my father
intends, I do not well see; but I should think, that to make the poor
man lose his head on Tower-hill would be somewhat too severe a
punishment, too bitter a revenge, for Lady Laura refusing to wed so
worshipful a person as I am."

"I hope and trust," replied Wilton, "that there is no chance of such
a consummation."

"On my word, I do not know," replied Lord Sherbrooke. "My father,
when he is hungry for anything, has a great appetite; I don't think
the Duke's head would much more than dine him. However, take my
advice; depend not upon him in the least; go to the Duke of
Shrewsbury at once, if he be in town, and if not, to Vernon. Try to
interest them in favour of the Duke; see what you can allege in his
favour. The King has just returned from Holland, you know, and any
application made to him now may perhaps be received graciously. Have
you anything that you can state in the Duke's favour?"

Wilton recapitulated all that could be said to palliate the error
which Laura's father had committed, and Lord Sherbrooke answered
eagerly, "That is enough, surely that is enough. At least," he added,
"it ought to be enough, and would be enough, if there were no
under-influence going on. At all events, Wilton, I would go
decidedly to his grace of Shrewsbury, or to Vernon, for I believe the
Duke is absent. Represent all these facts, and induce him to lay
them before the King. This is the best and most straightforward
course, and you will speedily learn more upon the subject. But there
is another thing which I have to tell you--though I put no great
reliance upon the result being as effectual as we could wish--I was
speaking a few nights ago with our friend the Colonel, upon the
situation of the Duke, and upon your anxiety regarding him, all of
which I have heard from my good rascally valet, who--considering that
he is one of the greatest scoundrels that ever was unhung--is a very
honest fellow in his way, and finds out everything for me, Heaven
knows how, and lets me know it truly. The Colonel seemed to laugh at
the idea of anything being done to the Duke, saying, 'No, no; he is
safe enough.' But after a while he added, 'If Wilton have any
difficulty about the business, he had better speak to me:' and then
he fell into one of his long sullen fits of thought; after which he
said, 'Tell him to ride out hitherward on Saturday night next, just
as it is turning dark--I should like to speak with him about it.'"

"I will not fail," replied Wilton; "for there is something about that
man that interests, nay, attaches me, in spite of all I know and all
I guess concerning his desperate habits. It is evident that he has
had a high education, and possesses a noble heart; in fact, that he
was fitted for better things than the criminal and disgraceful course
he has pursued."

"Hush, hush!" cried Lord Sherbrooke, laughing; "speak more
respectfully of the worthy Colonel, I beg. You are not aware that he
is a near relation of mine."

Wilton started, and turned round as if he would have gazed in his
companion's face, but the darkness of the night prevented him from
well seeing what was passing there. As he recalled, however, his
first interview with Green, his look, his manner, and the jesting
tone in which he sometimes spoke, he could not but acknowledge that
there was something in the whole resembling Lord Sherbrooke not a
little, although Green was a much taller and more powerful man.

"This is strange enough, Sherbrooke," he replied, "if you are not
joking; and, indeed, I think you are not, for there is a certain
likeness between you and him, though more in the manner than in the
person."

"It is quite true," replied Lord Sherbrooke; "he is a near relation.
But, however, in regard to the Duke, I see not how he can help you,
though he certainly does very wonderful things sometimes, which
nobody expects or can account for. I would hear all he has to say,
then; but at the same time, Wilton, I would not neglect the other
business with Vernon, for, you see, the Colonel names Saturday. This
is Monday, and before that time the Duke's head may be upon a pole,
for aught we know. They make short work with trials and executions in
these days."

"I will not fail," answered Wilton, "I will not fail. In such a case
as this it is scarcely possible to do too much, and very possible to
do too little. I trust your father will not detain me the whole day
to-morrow."

"Oh no!" replied Lord Sherbrooke: "I am going to remove the cause,
Wilton. As soon as ever I arrived last night, I perceived that the
Earl was delicately working at some grand scheme regarding the Duke,
and I very soon perceived, too, that he was determined you and I
should not have an opportunity of talking the matter over, for fear
we should spoil proceedings. I was obliged to watch my opportunity
to-night with great nicety, but to-morrow I go back, that is to say,
if my sweet Caroline is ready to go with me, for I am the most
obedient and loving of husbands, as all reformed rakes are, you know,
Wilton."

"But is the lady in town, and at your father's?" demanded Wilton,
with surprise.

"She is in town, dearly beloved," replied Lord Sherbrooke, "but
certainly not at my father's; and now, Wilton, ask me no more upon
the subject, for, between you and me, I know little or nothing more
myself. I know not what brings her into London; who she comes to see
here, or who the note was from that called her so suddenly up to this
great den of iniquity. It is a very horrible thing, Wilton, a very
horrible thing, indeed," he continued, in the same jesting tone,
"that any woman should have secrets from her husband. I have heard
many matrons say so, and I believe them from my whole heart; but I've
heard the same matrons say that there should be perfect reciprocity,
which, perhaps, might mean that the wife and the husband were to have
no secrets from each other, which, I am afraid, in my case, would
never do, so I am fain to let her have this secret of her own,
especially as she promises to tell me what it is in a few days.
Reciprocity is a fine thing, Wilton; but it is wonderful what a
number of different sorts of reciprocity there are in this world.
Look there. Do you know there is something that puzzles me about that
house."

"Why, that is Lord Sunbury's," replied Wilton; "but there are lights
up in the drawing-room apparently."

"Ay, that's one part of the story that puzzles me," said Lord
Sherbrooke. "I think the old housekeeper must be giving a drum. My
valet tells me that on Saturday morning last there was a hackney
coach stopped at that house, and two men went into it: one seemed a
gentleman wrapped in a long cloak, the other looked like a valet, and
stayed to get a number of packages out of the coach. Now I cannot
suspect that same old housekeeper, who, as far as I recollect, is
much like one of the daughters of Erebus and Nox, of carrying on an
amorous correspondence with any gentleman; and it is somewhat strange
that she should have lent the use of her master's house, either for
love or money. I should not wonder if the Earl himself had come to
London before his baggage."

"I should think not," replied Wilton; "I should certainly think not.
I had a letter from him not long ago, dated from Paris, and I think
he certainly would have written to inform me if he had been coming."

"I am not so sure of that, by any means, Wilton," replied his friend.
"I can tell you, that two or three things have happened to his good
lordship lately, which, with all his kindness and benevolence, might
make him wish to see two or three other people before he saw you.
There is a report even now busy about town that he is corresponding
from Paris privately and directly with the King, and that his arrival
in England will be followed by a change of ministry, if he will
consent to take office again, which seems to be very doubtful."

These tidings interested Wilton not a little; and perhaps he felt a
curiosity to ascertain whether Lord Sherbrooke's suspicion was or was
not correct. His mind, however, was too high and delicate to admit of
his taking any steps for that purpose, and after some more
conversation on the same subject, he and his friend parted.

On the following morning Wilton had an opportunity of visiting the
Duke of Shrewsbury's office, and found Mr. Vernon disengaged. To him
he communicated all that he had to say in defence of the Duke, and
found Vernon mild in his manners and expressions, but naturally
cautious in either promising anything or in giving any information.
He heard all that Wilton had to say, however, and assured him that he
would lay the statement he made before the King on the ensuing
morning, adding, that if he would call upon him in the course of the
next day he would tell him the result. He smiled when Wilton
requested him to keep his visit and its object secret, and nodded his
head, merely replying, "I understand."

On the following day Wilton did not fail to visit him again, and
waited for nearly an hour till he was ready to receive him.

"I am sorry," said Vernon, when he did admit him, "that I cannot give
you greater satisfaction, Mr. Brown; but the King's reply, upon my
application, was, that he had already spoken with the Earl of
Byerdale on the subject. However, it may be some comfort to you to
know that his grace of Shrewsbury takes an interest in the situation
of the Duke, and has himself written to the King upon the subject."



CHAPTER XLI.

It was about the hour of noon, and the day was dull and oppressive.
Though the apartments assigned to the Duke were high up, and in
themselves anything but gloomy, yet no cheering ray of sunshine had
visited them, and the air, which was extremely warm, seemed loaded
with vapour. The spirits of the prisoner were depressed in
proportion, and since the first hour of his imprisonment he had
never, perhaps, felt so much as at that moment, all the leaden weight
of dull captivity, the anguish of uncertainty, and the delay of hope,
which, ever from the time of the prophet king down to the present
day, has made the heart sick and the soul weary. It was in vain that
his daughter, with the tenderest, the kindest, the most assiduous
care, strove to raise his expectations or support his resolution; it
was in vain that she strove to wean his thoughts away from his own
painful situation by music, or by reading, or by conversation. Grief,
like the dull adder, stops its ear that it may not hear the song of
the charmer; and while she sang to him or played to him upon the
lute, at that time an instrument still extremely common in England,
or read to him from the books which she thought best calculated to
attract his attention, she could see by the vacant eye that sometimes
filled with tears, and the lips that from time to time murmured a
word or two of impatience and complaint, that his thoughts were all
still bent either upon the sad subject of his captivity, or upon the
apprehension of what the future might bring.

At the hour of noon, then, the servant whom the Duke had chosen to
wait upon him, and who was freely admitted to the prison, as well as
a maid to attend upon the Lady Laura, entered the apartment in which
the Duke sat, and announced that the Earl of Byerdale was in the
antechamber. The Duke started up with an expression of joy, ordering
him to be admitted instantly; and the Earl entered, assuming even an
unusual parade of dignity in his step, and contriving to make his
countenance look more than commonly severe and sneering, even though
there was a marked smile upon it, as if he would imply that no slight
pleasure attended his visit to the Duke.

"My dear lord," he said, "I really have to apologize for not having
waited upon you before, but it has been quite impossible. Since the
King's return I have been called upon daily to attend his majesty,
besides having all the usual routine of my office to go through;
otherwise I can assure your grace that I should have been with you
long ago, as both duty and inclination would have prompted me to wait
upon you. I am happy to see you so comfortably lodged here. I was
afraid that, considering the circumstances, they might have judged it
right to debar you of some indulgences; but my lord the governor is a
good-hearted, kindly man.--Lady Laura, how are you? I hope you are
quite well. I grieve, indeed, to see you and your father in this
place; but alas! I had no power to prevent it, and indeed, I fear, I
have very little power to serve you now."

"From your lordship's words," said the Duke, after having habitually
performed the civilities of the apartment--"from your lordship's
words, I fear that you take a bad view of the case, and do not
anticipate my speedy deliverance."

"Oh, you know," answered the Earl, "that the trial must take place
before we can at all judge what the King's mercy may incline him to
do; but I fear, my lord, I fear that a strong prejudice prevails
against your grace. The King, as well may be, is terribly indignant
at all persons concerned with this plot."

"He may well be, indeed," said the Duke; "for nothing ever made me
more indignant than when I first heard of the purposed assassination
and invasion myself. With that I had nothing on earth to do. I should
have hoped that his majesty's indignation on other points would have
subsided by this time, and that clemency would have resumed her sway
towards those who may have acted imprudently but not criminally."

"Not yet, not yet, I fear, my lord," replied the Earl; "six months,
or a year longer, indeed, would have made all the difference. If your
grace had but taken the advice and warning given you by my wise and
virtuous young friend, Wilton, and made your escape at once to
Flanders, or any neutral ground. I am sure I gave you opportunity
enough."

"But, my lord," replied the Duke, "Wilton never gave me any warning
till the very morning that I was arrested. It is true, indeed," he
added, recollecting the circumstances, "poor Wilton and I
unfortunately had a little quarrel on the preceding night, and he
left me very much offended, I believe, and hurt, as I dare say he
told you, my lord."

"Oh, he told me nothing, your grace," replied Lord Byerdale.
"Wilton, knowing my feeling on the subject, very wisely acted as he
knew I should like, or, at least, INTENDED TO ACT as he knew I should
like, without saying anything to me upon the subject. I might very
well remain somewhat wilfully ignorant of what was going on, but I
must not openly connive, you know.--Then it was not really," he
continued, "that your grace refused to go?"

"Oh, not in the least, not in the least!" replied the Duke. "I
received his note early on the next morning, after he left me, and
was consulting with my dear child here as to the necessary
arrangements for going, when the Messengers arrived."

"Most unfortunate, indeed," said the Earl. "I had concluded, judging
from your letter to me on the preceding day, that your grace that
afternoon, notwithstanding all I had said regarding the young
gentleman's family, refused him the honour to which he aspired, and
would not follow the advice he gave."

Lady Laura rose, and moved towards one of the windows; and her
father, with his colour a little heightened, and his manner somewhat
agitated, replied, but in a low tone, "I did indeed refuse him
Laura's hand, and, I am afraid, somewhat harshly and angrily; but I
never refused to take his advice or warning."

"Ay, but the two subjects are so mingled up together," said the Earl,
"that the one may be considered to imply the other."

"I see not how, my lord, I see not how they are so mingled," said the
Duke.

"Ay, it may be difficult to explain," answered the Earl, "and I
cannot do it myself; but so it is. It might not indeed be too late
now, if it were not for this unfortunate prejudice of yourself or
Lady Laura against my young friend, who, I must say, has served you
both well."

"How not too late, my lord?" demanded the Duke, eagerly: "all
prejudices may be removed, you know; and if there were any prejudice,
it was mine."

"Still it would be an obstacle," answered the Earl; "and the whole
matter would of course be rendered much more difficult now. There
might be still more prejudices to be overcome at present.--May I
ask," he added, abruptly, "if you have still got the note which
Wilton sent you?"

"No," answered the Duke, "no. I destroyed it immediately, out of
regard for his safety."

"It was a wise precaution," answered the Earl, "but unnecessary in
his case. He has friends who will manage to justify whatever he does
of that kind. Humble as he is in all his deportment, he can do many
things that I could not venture to do. I have heard the King himself
say, in presence of one half of his council, that he is under great
personal obligations to Wilton Brown."

"Indeed!" exclaimed the Duke; "but may I request your lordship to
inform me what it was you meant just now? You said it might not be
yet too late."

"I fear, my lord, I must not talk to your grace on the subject," said
the Earl; "there might be conditions you would not comply with. You
might not like even the idea of flying from prison at all."

"I do not see why, my lord," exclaimed the Duke, "I really do not see
why. But pray, may I ask what are the conditions?"

"Nay, I make neither any suggestions nor conditions," replied the
Earl, who saw that the Duke was fully worked up to the pitch he
wished, "I only spoke of such a thing as escape being very possible,
if Wilton chose to arrange it; and then of course the conditions he
might require for his services struck my mind."

"Why as yet, my lord," answered the Duke, "our noble young friend has
not even named any condition as the price of his services."

"Perhaps, your grace," replied the Earl, "he may have become wiser by
experience. If I have understood you both right, his hopes were
disappointed, and hopes which he imagined he entertained with great
reason."

"No, my lord, no!" cried the Duke. "He had no reason for entertaining
such hopes. I cannot admit for a moment that I gave him any cause for
such expectations."

"Nay, then, my lord duke," replied the Earl, with an offended look,
"if such be your view of a case which everybody in London sees
differently, the more reason why Wilton should make sure of what
grounds he stands upon before he acts further in this business.
However, I have nothing to do with the affair farther than as his
sincere friend, and as having the honour of being his distant
relation, which of course makes me resolute in saying that I will not
see his feelings sported with and his happiness destroyed. Therefore,
your grace, as we shan't agree, I see, upon these matters, I will
humbly take my leave of you." And he rose, as if to depart.