The House at Bell Orchard by Sylvia Thorpe Read Free Book Online

the throne by force of arms, but though she knew of these matters she had never concerned herself over them. The last Jacobite uprising had taken place eight years before she was born, and such things as treasonable plots and armed invasions seemed to have no place among the realities of life. Now, without warning, she found herself in the midst of such activities, and was asked to believe that her father had possessed similarly misguided convictions.
    Fenshawe waited patiently for all the implications of what he had said to dawn upon her. He propped his shoulders against the shelves of books behind him, and once more took snuff from the gold and enamel box, shaking the lace ruffles back from his hand. At length, as he had known she would, Charmian raised her head, and asked the question for which he had been waiting.
    “What has this to do with the loss of Papa’s fortune?”
    He shrugged slightly. “Your father, my dear, had been convinced for years of the justice of the Stuart claim, but though he would willingly have done anything in his power to aid their cause, he had no notion how to set about it. All he could do, whenever he visited London, was to frequent the company of those who felt as he did, in the hope that one day some opportunity would offer itself. Eventually, his path and mine crossed.”
    He paused, and again took snuff, closing the box with a snap which sounded loud in the silence. Charmian, still huddled in her chair, was aware of the strong force of his personality, and found no difficulty in understanding how her studious, unworldly father had fallen so completely under its spell.
    “I will not weary you,” Fenshawe resumed, “with all the details of our ripening acquaintance. It is sufficient to say that eventually your father; finding in me one who was prepared to do more to aid the Cause than merely drinking loyal toasts and railing against the Elector, confided to me his desire to give some practical aid, and asked how he might do so.” He shrugged again. “His years prevented him from taking any active part in our work, but there is one thing of which we are always in desperate need, and that is money. With that he was plentifully supplied and he gave it generously. Too generously, as subsequent events have proved.” He paused again and then added deliberately: “That is where your father’s fortune went, Miss Tarrant—to aid his rightful King. It could have been spent in no more noble cause.”
    She moved her hands in a protesting gesture. “But to ruin himself, and then take his own life! That is to carry any loyalty to the point of madness!”
    He sighed. “Ah, that I did not foresee! His exact resources were unknown to me, and I had no suspicion until after his death that he had placed himself so deeply in debt. Had I known it, I would naturally have used every endeavour to dissuade him.” He moved away from the bookshelves and came to set a hand on her shoulder. “Your father, Miss Tarrant, was a very brave man,” he said gravely. “He might, perhaps, have weathered the storm and salvaged something from the wreck of his fortunes, but there was always the danger that suspicion might be aroused and the rest of us implicated. He took the only course he could think of to prevent such a disaster. It would not be too much to say that he gave his life for his King.”
    Charmian did not reply, and once again silence descended upon the room. Fenshawe moved quietly away and went to stand again by the window, but with his back to it this time so that he could watch the girl. He wanted her to have time to think over what he had said, to realize all its subtle implications, and to regret, as he felt certain she would, the persistence which had provoked his disclosures. There was still a little more to be said, and soon the right moment would come to say it.
    For perhaps five minutes he stood there, watching the different emotions which were mirrored in her face, and then, judging that the