Dennis Wheatley - The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

"Thank God!" Roger exclaimed. "Then I am not, after all, come too latel"

The Prime Minister shrugged his shoulders. "If it is of any comfort to you, Mr. Brook, you may rest assured that had you arrived ten days ago it could have made little difference."

"You mean, Sir, that you had despatched a fleet already?"

"Nay; and I have no intention of doing so."

"What say you!" cried Roger, springing to his feet. "But Britain's word is pledged in this. And yon, of all men, cannot play the shuffling politician nowl You must send the aid that you have promised to King Gustavus."

"You use strong words, Mr. Brook," the Prime Minister frowned.

"No stronger than my feelings, Sirl" Roger rapped back. "And if excuse be needed 'tis that you have hitherto encouraged me to speak my mind to you."

"Aye; that is true," Pitt agreed more gently. "And on that score 'tis I who should ask your pardon. Yet what you propose cannot be done. Mr. Elliot has acted with a courage that does him credit, yet he has gone beyond his instructions and I cannot publicly endorse his statements. Neither can I despatch a fleet; for I no longer have the power to do so."

"In God's name why?" ejaculated Roger, staring at him in amaze­ment. "Has, then, the government fallen overnight?"

Poor Billy Pitt shrugged wearily. "Nay; though in some ways I almost wish it had. I am but the First Minister of the crown, and I could never have held my place these past five years had it not been for His Majesty's constant encouragement and support. The Princes and the opposition would prove too much for me were I to attempt to introduce any controversial measure which they knew to be without the King's full knowledge and approval. So at this juncture it is un­thinkable that I should take a step which might involve Britain in a war."

"Is the King dead then?"

"Nay; but three days ago His Majesty's doctors officially informed the Cabinet that he has become insane."

CHAPTER XXI

IN BAULK

"I H A VE, of course, known this for some time," Pitt went on sadly. "All through the summer His Majesty's health was in a low state, and a stay at Cheltenham did nothing to improve it. On his return to Windsor he was compelled to give up those long walks and rides which have always proved so exhausting to his suite, but which were such a feature of his life. In fits and starts he still attempts them; I think in an effort to escape his own thoughts, for the poor man is fully aware that he has become subject to fits of mental derangement. But they serve only to make his malady worse; on his return from these excursions he talks at an incredible speed and often with complete inconsequence. He is behaving very bravely about it. As late as last night he insisted on appearing at a levee at St. James's Palace, as he wrote me himself 'to stop further lies, and any fall in the stocks,' but his condition was pitiable, and 'twas plain to us all that we were in the presence of a madman."

"What you tell me, Sir, is truly terrible," Roger murmured. "Do His Majesty's physicians offer any explanation as to the cause of the disease?"

"None. 'Tis not hereditary in the family, or caused by any particular mental shock. But some of us who know him most intimately have formed the opinion that his brain has become overwrought from brood­ing on the conduct of his sons. The King has ever been a plam-living man with a particular horror of gambling and debauchery. It may well be that the scandalous excesses of the Prince of Wales and the Duke of York have upset the balance of their father's mind."

Roger sighed. "And should His Majesty not recover, I take it there is no escaping the Prince becoming our ruler. In such a case God help us all."

"Now that the Cabinet has been officially informed that the King is mad, we have no alternative but to consider some form of Regency. Whatever limits Parliament may see fit to impose upon the Regent's powers 'twould hardly be feasible for them to deny him the right to choose his own Ministers. It follows therefore that the present govern­ment will swiftly be replaced by the Prince's friends."

"With Mr. Fox as Prime Minister," added Roger bitterly.

Pitt laughed, not unkindly. "Mayhap; but it looks as if the unlucky star that has ever dogged poor Charles in his hopes of the Premiership is still in the ascendent. He is at present touring Italy with Mrs. Armistead, and by the time he is returned all may have been settled. Sheridan has stepped into his place as the Prince's chief confidant, and now heads the cabal which would so joyfully hound me from office."

"Oh,.God, Sir! Can naught be done?" exclaimed Roger.

"Nay, nothing. Events must take their course. But you see how impossible it is, now that my enemies know me to hold no longer anything but the shadow of power, for me to commit Britain to a war. Tell me now briefly such other news as you may have, for I can give little time to anything except the present emergency."

Roger bad taken the letter he had stolen from Alexis Orlof from the buckram lining of his coat-collar that morning, and he now produced it.

"I brought this out of Russia, Sir. Its meaning may at first appear, obscure to you; but 'tis the written proof that the Czarina Catherine gave orders for the murder of her husband and, as such, I imagine it to be a document of considerable value."

The Prime Minister read it through, and asked curiously: "How did you come by this?"

"If you are pressed for time, Sir, 'tis too long a story to tell now; as would also be my impressions of the Russian Court, and my dealings with King Gustavus and Mr. Elliot."

"Then I will appoint a more suitable occasion," Pitt agreed. "As to this letter, pray do not think that I wish to belittle the risks you may have been put to in obtaining it. But I fear that it is more a thing of historic interest than political value. Its publication would be taken by the Empress as a deliberate attempt on our part to alienate the affection of her subjects. So we should never publish it unless our in­tention was to provoke a quarrel with Russia, and such a contingency is remote. May I take it that when I can find the leisure to hear a full account of your travels, a message to my Lord Amesbury's will reach you?"

Roger stood up. "Yes, Sir. Lord Edward Fitz-Deverel most kindly affords me hospitality in his father's house when I am in London."

Having taken leave of the Prime Minister, Roger walked across the park to Arlington Street. He was greatly disturbed by what he had been told of the King's madness, both on account of the disastrous effect it must have on the nation and on his own affairs. It was good news that Hugh Elliot had succeeded in prolonging the armistice between the Danes and the Swedes for a further period of a month, but what was to happen at the end of that time if no fleet was sent and Mr. Pitt were out of office? Moreover, he had counted on a squadron being despatched at once in answer to Mr. Elliot's appeal, and had intended to sail with it himself to rejoin Natalia Andreovna. It was now five weeks since he had left her and, in spite of his letters, he feared that she must be thinking very badly of him.

At Amesbury House he found Droopy Ned just going to bed. It transpired that the eccentric young nobleman had been up all night owing to an experiment with one of his eastern drugs, which had made his mind so active that he had found it impossible to sleep; but the effects were now wearing off so he had intended to sleep through the day.

Having greeted Roger with delight he changed his intention, took another dose of the drug to keep himself awake, and ordered break­fast for them both.

From Droopy, Roger had no secrets, so over the meal he gave him an account of his adventures, including a perfectly frank state­ment as to how he had come to marry Natalia, and his present relations with her.