Alexandre Dumas, Pere - "Louise de la Valliere"

A. Herbert Gray - "Men, Women, and God"

George Stuart Fullerton - "A Handbook of Ethical Theory"

Alfred de Vigny - "Cinq Mars, v1"

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




"Yes, yes," said the King, "I will see him. I promised to see him."

"You told me also, sire," replied Lord Portland, "if ever this other
gentleman applied, you would also see him. Mr. Wilton Brown, I
mean."

"I will see him too," said the King. "I will see them together. Let
them be called, Bentinck."

Lord Portland went to the door, and gave the necessary orders, and in
a moment or two after, Wilton and his companion stood in the presence
of the King.

As they entered, Lord Albemarle said a few words to William, in a low
tone, to which William replied, "No, no, I will tell you if it be
necessary.--Now, gentlemen," he said, "I understood, from the note
received this morning by my Lord of Albemarle, that you requested an
audience together, which as I had promised to each separately, I have
given. Is your business the same or different?"

"It is the same, sire," replied Green at once. "But I will beg this
young gentleman to urge what he has to say in the first place."

The King nodded his head to Wilton to proceed; adding, "I have little
time this morning, and you may be brief; for if your business be what
I think, it has been opened to me by a friend of yours, and you will
hear more from me or him on Tuesday."

"If your majesty refers to the Duke of Shrewsbury," said Wilton, "I
have not the honour of his acquaintance; but he promised, I know, to
urge upon your majesty's clemency the case of the Duke of Gaveston,
in regard to which I have now ventured to approach you."

"We are mistaking each other," said the King. "I thought you meant
something else. What about the Duke?"

"When your majesty was last pleased to receive me," replied Wilton,
"I had the honour of recounting to you how I had been employed by his
grace to set free his daughter who had been carried away by Sir John
Fenwick and other Jacobites. I explained to your majesty at that time
that this daring act had been committed by those Jacobites in
consequence of a quarrel between the Duke and Sir John Fenwick, which
quarrel was occasioned by the Duke indignantly refusing to take part
in the infamous conspiracy against your majesty. Since then, Sir John
Fenwick has been arrested, and has charged the Duke with being a
party to that conspiracy. He has done this entirely and evidently out
of revenge, and as far as my testimony goes, I can distinctly show
your majesty, that after his daughter was carried away, the Duke had
no opportunity whatsoever of revealing what he knew of the conspiracy
without endangering her safety till after the whole was discovered,
for on the morning of her return to town, after being set free, the
warrants against the conspirators were already issued."

"You told me all this before, I think," said the King, with somewhat
of a heavy brow and impatient air. "Where is the Duke now?"

"He is in the Tower, sire," replied Wilton, "a prisoner of state,
upon this charge of Sir John Fenwick's, and I am bold to approach
your majesty to beseech you to take his case into consideration."

The King's brow had by this time grown very dark, and turning to Lord
Portland, he said, "This is another, you see, Bentinck."

"I beseech your majesty," continued Wilton, as soon as the King
paused, "I beseech you to hear my petition, and to grant it. It is a
case in which I am deeply interested. You were pleased to say that I
had conducted myself well, you were pleased to promise me your
gracious favour, and I beseech you now to extend it to me so far, as
at my petition to show clemency to a nobleman who, perhaps, may have
acted foolishly in suffering his ears to be guilty of hearing some
evil designs against you, but who testified throughout the most
indignant horror at the purposes of these conspirators, who has been
punished severely already by the temporary loss of his child, by the
most terrible anxiety about her, and by long imprisonment in the
Tower, where he now lies, withering under a sense of your majesty's
displeasure. Let me entreat your majesty to grant me this petition,"
and advancing a step, Wilton knelt at the King's feet.

"Why, I thought, young gentleman," replied William, "that before this
time you were married to the pretty heiress."

"Oh no, sire," replied Wilton, with a sad smile, "that is entirely
out of the question. Such a report got abroad in the world, but I
have neither station, fortune, rank, nor any other advantage to
entitle me to such a hope."

"And you, Colonel," said the King, turning towards Green, "is this
the object of your coming also?"

"It is, sire," answered Green, advancing. "But first of all permit me
to do an act that I have never done before, and kissing your
majesty's hand, to acknowledge that I feel you are and will be King
of England. May I add more, that you are worthy of being so."

The King was evidently pleased and struck. "I am glad to see," he
answered, holding out his hand to Green, "that we have reclaimed one
Jacobite."

"Sire," answered Green, kissing the King's hand, but without rising,
"my affections are not easily changed, and may remain with another
house; but it were folly to deny any longer your sovereignty, and,"
he added, the moment after, "it would be treachery henceforth to do
anything against it.--And now, sire," he continued, "let me urge most
earnestly this young gentleman's petition, and let it be at my suit
that the Duke's liberation is granted. Wilton here may have many
petitions yet to present to your majesty on his own account. I shall
never have any; and as your majesty told me to claim a boon at your
hands, and promised to grant me anything that was not unreasonable, I
beseech you to grant me, as not an unreasonable request, the full
pardon and liberation of a man who this young gentleman, and I, and
Sir John Fenwick, and I think your majesty too, well know would as
soon have attempted anything against your majesty's life as he would
have sacrificed his own. This is the boon I crave, this is the
petition I have to present, and I hope and trust that you will grant
my request."

"And have you nothing else, Colonel, to demand on your own account?"
said the King, gravely.

"Nothing, sire," replied Green: "I make this my only request."

"What!" said the King, after giving a glance as playful, perhaps, as
any glance could be upon the countenance of William III. "Is this the
only request? I have seen in English history, since it became my duty
to study it, a number of precedents of general pardons, granted under
the great seal, by monarchs my predecessors, to certain of their
subjects who have done some good service, for all crimes,
misdemeanours, felonies, et cetera, committed in times previous. Now,
sir, from a few things I have heard, it has struck me that such a
patent would be not at all inexpedient in your own case, and I
expected you to ask it."

"I have not, and I do not ask it, sire," replied Green, in the same
grave tone with which he had previously spoken. "I may have done
many things that are wrong, sire, but I have neither injured,
insulted, nor offended any one whom I knew to be a true subject of
the Prince I considered my lawful King. Possessing still his
commission, I believed myself at liberty to levy upon those who were
avowedly his enemies, the rents of that property whereof they had
deprived me fighting in his cause.--Sire, I may have been wrong in my
view, and I believe I have been so. I speak not in my own
justification, therefore. My head is at your feet if you choose to
take it: death has no terrors for me; life has no charms. I stay as
long as God wills it: when he calls me hence, it matters little what
way I take my departure. My request, sire, is for the liberation of
the Duke, who, believe me, is perfectly innocent; and I earnestly
entreat your majesty not to keep him longer within the walls of a
prison, which to the heart of an Englishman is worse than death
itself."

"I am sufficiently an Englishman to feel that," replied the King.--
"Your own free pardon for all offences up to this time we give, or
rather promise you, should it be needed, without your asking it. Mark
the King's words, gentlemen. In regard to the liberation of the
Duke, demanded of us, as you have demanded it; that is, as the only
request of a person who has rendered us most important service, and
to whom we have pledged our word to concede some boon, we would grant
it also, but--"

"Oh, sire!" exclaimed Green, "let your clemency blot out that but."

"Hear me, hear me," said the King, relapsing into his usual tone; "I
would willingly grant you the Duke's liberation as the boon which you
require, and which I promised; but that I granted the order for his
liberation some four days ago, not even demanding bail for his
appearance, but perfectly satisfied of his innocence. I ordered also
such steps to be taken, that a _nolle prosequi_ might be entered, so
as to put his mind fully at rest. I told the Earl of Byerdale the day
before yesterday, that I had done this at the request of the Duke of
Shrewsbury, and I bade him take the warrant, which, signed by myself,
and countersigned by Mr. Secretary Trumbull, was then lying in the
hands of the clerk. It is either in the clerk's hands still, or in
those of Lord Byerdale. But that lord has committed a most grievous
offence in suffering any of my subjects to remain in a prison when
the order was signed for their liberation."

"May it please your majesty," said Keppel, stepping forward, "I
questioned the clerk this morning, as I passed, knowing what your
majesty had done, and hearing, to my surprise, from my Lord Pembroke,
that the Duke was still in prison. The clerk tells me that he had
still the warrant, Lord Byerdale seeming to have forgotten it
entirely."

"He has forgotten too many things," said the King, "and yet his
memory is good when he pleases. Fetch me the warrant, Arnold.
Colonel, I grant this warrant, you see, not to you. You must think of
some other boon at another time. Young gentleman, I have been
requested; by a true friend of yours and mine, to hear your petition
upon various points, and to do something for you. I can hear no more
petitions to-day, however, but perhaps you may find a kinder ear to
listen to you; and as to doing anything for you," he continued, as he
saw Keppel return with a paper in his hand--"as to doing anything
for you, the best thing I can do is to send you to the Tower. There,
take the warrant, and either get into a boat or on your horse', back,
and bear the good tidings to the Duke yourself."

As he spoke, the King gave the paper into Wilton's hand, and turned
partly round to the Earl of Portland with a smile; then looked round
again calmly, and, by a grave inclination of the head, signified to
Wilton and his companion that their audience was at an end.

As soon as they were in the lobby, Green grasped his young friend's
hand eagerly in his own, demanding, "Now, Wilton, are you happy?"

"Most miserable!" replied Wilton. "This paper is indeed the greatest
relief to me, because it puts me beyond all chance of dishonour. No
one can impute to me now that I have done wrong, or violated my word,
even by a breath; but still I am most unhappy, and the very act that
I am going to do seals my unhappiness."

"Such things may well be," replied Green, "I know it from bitter
experience. But how it can be so, Wilton, in your case, I cannot
tell."

Wilton shook his head sorrowfully. "I cannot stay to explain all
now," he said, "for I must hasten to the Duke, and not leave his mind
in doubt and fear for a moment. But in going thither, I go to see her
I love for the last time. The metropolis will henceforth be hateful
to me, and I shall fly from it as speedily as possible. I feel that I
cannot live in it after that hope is at an end. I shall apply for a
commission in the army, and seek what fate may send me in some more
active life; but before I go, probably this very night, if you will
give me shelter, I will seek you and the Lady Helen, to both of whom
I have much, very much to say. I shall find you at Lord Sherbrooke's
cottage, where I last saw you? There I will explain everything. And
now farewell."

Thus saying, he shook Green's hand, mounted his horse, and at a very
rapid pace spurred on towards London by all the shortest roads that
he could discover.



CHAPTER XLV.

The Duke's dinner in the Tower was over. He had been much agitated
all day, and Laura had been agitated also, but she had concealed her
emotions, in order not to increase those of her father. It was, as we
have said, Sunday, and the service of the church had occupied some
part of that long day's passing; but the rest had gone by very
slowly, especially as the only two events which occurred to break or
diversify the time told that there were other persons busy without,
in matters regarding which neither Laura nor her father could take
the slightest part, but which affected the future fate of both in the
highest degree. Those two incidents were the arrival of Wilton's note,
which we have already mentioned, and a visit from the chaplain of the
Tower, to tell the Duke and Lady Laura that he had received directions
and the proper authorization (few of those things were needed,
indeed, in those days) to perform the ceremony of marriage between
her and Wilton at any hour that she chose to name. A considerable
time passed after this visit, and yet Wilton did not appear. The Duke
began to look towards Laura with anxious eyes, and once he said, "I
hope, Laura, you neither did nor said anything yesterday to make
Wilton act coldly or unwillingly in this business?"

"Indeed, my dear father, I did not," replied Lady Laura, "and he
promised me firmly to do everything in his power. Something has
detained him; but depend upon it there is no cause either to fear or
to doubt."

Such assurances, for a time, seemed to soothe the Duke, and put his
mind more at ease; but as time passed, and still Wilton did not
appear, his anxiety returned again; he would walk up and down the
room; he would gaze out of the window; he would east himself into a
chair with a deep sigh; and though he said nothing more, Laura, was
bitterly grieved on his account, and began to share his anxiety for
the result. At length a distant door was heard to open, then came
the sound of the well-known step in the ante-room, making Laura's
heart beat, and the Duke smile; but there was nothing joyful in the
tread of that step: it was slow and thoughtful; and after the hand
was placed upon the lock of the door, there was still a pause, which,
though in reality very brief, seemed long to the prisoner and his
daughter. At length, however, the door opened, and Wilton himself
entered the room. There came a smile, too, upon his lip, but Laura
could not but see that smile was a very sad one.

"We have been waiting for you most anxiously, my dear Wilton," said
the Duke: "we have fancied all manner of things, all sorts of
difficulties and obstacles; for I well knew that nothing but matters
of absolute necessity would keep you from the side of your dear bride
at this moment."

"But you still look sad, Wilton," said Lady Laura, holding out her
hand to him. "Let us hear, Wilton, let us hear all at once, dear
Wilton. Has anything happened to derange our plans, or prevent my
father's escape?"

Wilton kissed her hand affectionately, replying, "Fear not on that
account, dear Laura; fear not on that account. Your father is no
longer a prisoner.--My lord duke, there is the warrant for your
liberation, signed by the King's own hand, and properly
countersigned."

The Duke clasped his hands together, and looked up to heaven with
eyes full of thankfulness, and Laura's joy also burst forth in tears.
But she saw that Wilton remained sad and cold; and mistaking the
cause, she turned quickly to her father, saying, "Oh, my dear father,
in this moment of joy, make him who has given us so much happiness
happy also. Tell him, tell him, my dear father, that you will not,
that you cannot think of refusing him your child after all that he
has done for us."

"No, no, Laura," cried the Duke: "you shall be his--"

But Wilton interrupted him; and throwing his arms round Lady Laura,
pressed her for a moment to his heart, took one long ardent kiss, and
then turning to the Duke, said, "Pardon me, my lord duke!--It is the
last! Nay, do not interrupt me, for I have a task to perform which
requires all the firmness I can find to accomplish it. On seeing Lord
Byerdale yesterday, he told me of the whole arrangements which he had
made with you, and of the plan for your escape he showed me that,
according to the note which he had written to the governor of the
Tower, concerning the marriage between your daughter and myself, your
escape could not be effected till the ceremony had taken place, as it
was assigned as the cause for our leaving the Tower so late at night.
He made me pledge myself not to disclose his part in the scheme to
any one; and he then said that he would tell me the secret of my
birth, if I would plight my honour not to reveal it till after your
safety was secure. I pledged myself, and he told me all. I now found,
my lord, that you and I had both been most shamefully deceived--deceived
for the purpose, I do believe, of revenging on you and Lady Laura her
former rejection of Lord Sherbrooke by driving her to marry a person
altogether inferior to herself in station. You will see that he had
placed me in the most difficult of all positions. If I carried out his
plan of escape, I knowingly made use of his deceit to gain for myself
the greatest earthly happiness. If I revealed to you what he told me, I
broke my pledged word, and at the same time gave you no choice, but
either unwillingly to give me your daughter's hand, or to remain, and
risk the chance of longer imprisonment and trial. If I held off and
disappointed you in your escape, I again broke my word to Lady Laura.
You may conceive the agony of my mind during last night. There was but
one hope of my being able to escape dishonour, though it was a very
slight one. I determined to go to the King himself. I engaged a
gentleman to go with me, who has some influence; and this morning we
presented ourselves at Hampton Court, His Majesty was graciously pleased
to receive us: he treated me with all kindness, and gave me the warrant
for your liberation to bring hither. That warrant was already signed;
for the Duke of Shrewsbury had kept his word with me, and applied for it
earnestly and successfully. The Earl of Byerdale knew that it was
prepared, so that he was quite safe in permitting your escape. I have
now nothing further to do, my lord, than to wish you joy of your
liberation, and to bid you adieu for ever."

"Stay, stay!" said the Duke, much moved. "Let me hear more, Wilton."

But Wilton had already turned to Lady Laura and taken her hand.

"Oh, Laura," he said, "if I have been deceived into making you unhappy
as well as myself, forgive me. You know, you well know, that I would
give every earthly good to obtain this dear hand; that I would
sacrifice anything on earth for that object, but honour, truth, and
integrity. Laura, I feel you can never be mine; try to forget what
has been; while I seek in distant lands, not forgetfulness, if it
come not accompanied by death, but the occupation of the battlefield,
and the hope of a speedy and not inglorious termination to suffering.
Farewell--once more, farewell!"

"Stay, stay!" said the Duke--"stay, Wilton! What was it the Earl told
you? He said that you had as good blood in your veins as his own. He
said you were even related to himself. What did he tell you?"

The blood mounted into Wilton's cheek. "He told me, my lord," he said,
"that I was the natural son of his cousin."

And feeling that he could bear no more, he turned abruptly and quitted
the apartment.

As he did so, Lady Laura sank at her father's feet, and clasped his
knees. "Oh, my father," she said, "do not, do not make me miserable
for ever. Think of your child's happiness before any considerations
of pride; think of the noble conduct of him who has just left us; and
ask yourself if I can cease to love him while I have life."

"Never, Laura, never!" said the Duke, sternly. "Had it been anything
else but that, I might have yielded; but it cannot be! Never, my
child, never!--So urge me not!--I would rather see you in your
grave!"

Those rash and shameful words, which the basest and most unholy pride
has too often in this world wrung from a parent's lips towards a
child, had been scarcely uttered by the Duke, when he felt his
daughter's arms relax their hold of his knees, her weight press
heavily upon him, and the next instant she lay senseless on the
ground.

For an instant, the consciousness of the unchristian words he had
uttered smote his heart with fear; fear lest the retributive hand of
Heaven should have punished his pride, even in the moment of offence,
by taking away the child whose happiness he was preparing to
sacrifice, and of whose death he had made light.

He called loudly for help, and his servant and Lady Laura's maid were
soon in the room. They raised her head with cushions; they brought
water; they called for farther assistance; and though it soon became
evident that Laura had only fainted, it was long before the slightest
symptom of returning consciousness appeared. The Duke, the servants,
and some attendants of the governor of the Tower, were still gathered
round her, and her eyes were just opening and looking faintly up, when
another person was suddenly added to the group, and a mild,
fine-toned voice said, in the ear of the Duke,--

"Good God! my lord duke, what has happened? Had you not better send
for Millington or Garth?"

"She is better, she is better," said the Duke, rising; "she is coming
to herself again.--Good Heaven! my Lord of Sunbury, is it you? This
is an unexpected pleasure."

"I cannot say," replied Lord Sunbury, "that it is an unexpected
pleasure to me, my lord; for though I would rather see your grace in
any other place, and heard this morning at Hampton Court that the
order for your liberation was signed, yet I heard just now that you
were still in the Tower; and, to say the truth, I expected to find my
young friend Wilton with you. Let us attend to the lady, however," he
added, seeing that his allusion to Wilton made the Duke turn a little
red, and divining, perhaps, that Lady Laura's illness was in some way
connected with the absence of his young friend, "she is growing
better."

And kindly kneeling down beside her, he took her hand in his, saying
in a tender and paternal tone, "I hope you are better, my dear young
lady. Nay, nay," he added, in a lower voice, "be comforted; all will
go well, depend upon it:--you are better now; you are better, I see."
And then perceiving that only having seen him once before, Lady Laura
did not recollect him, he added his own name, saying, "Lord Sunbury,
my dear, the father, by love and by adoption, of a dear friend of
yours."

The allusion to Wilton immediately produced its effect upon Lady
Laura, and she burst into tears; but seeing Lord Sunbury about to
rise, she clung to his hand, saying, "Do not leave me--do not leave
me. I shall be better in a minute. I will send him a message by
you."

"I will not, indeed, leave you," replied Lord Sunbury; "but I think
we do not need all these people present just now. Your father and I
and your woman will be enough."

According to his suggestion, the room was cleared, the windows were
all thrown open, and in about half an hour Lady Laura had
sufficiently recovered herself to sit up and speak with ease. Lord
Sunbury bad avoided returning to the subject of Wilton, till he
fancied that she could bear it, knowing that it might be more painful
to her, even to hear him conversing with her father upon such a
topic, than to take part in the discussion herself. At length,
however, he said,--

"Now this fair lady is tolerably well again, let me ask your grace
where I can find my young friend, Wilton Brown. I was told at his
lodgings that he had come on with all speed to the Tower, merely
getting a fresh horse as he passed."

"He was here not long ago, my lord," replied the Duke, coldly. "He
was kind enough to bring me from Hampton Court the warrant for my
enlargement. He went away in some haste and in some sorrow, not from
anything I said, my lord, but from what his own good sense showed him
must be the consequence of some discoveries which he had made
regarding his own birth. I must say he has in the business behaved
most honourably, and, at the same time, most sensibly; and anything
on earth that I can reasonably do to testify my gratitude to him for
all the services he has rendered me and mine, I will willingly do it,
should it cost me one half of my estates."

Lady Laura had covered her eyes with her hands, but the tears
trickled through her fingers in spite of all she could do to restrain
them. Lord Sunbury, too, was a good deal agitated, and showed it more
than might have been expected in a man so calm and deliberate as
himself. He even rose from his chair, and walked twice across the
room, before he replied.