SON CHRISTOPHER.
AN HISTORIETTE. BY HARRIET MARTINEAU.
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CHAPTER VIII. CONSPIRACY IN DISCONTENT.
If Christopher could not say to Joanna that he had no doubt of Monmouth’s prospects, much less could he say so to himself an hour later.
He was called into council, as soon as the doors were closed for the night: and he was surprised to perceive how transient had been Monmouth’s elation of spirit. By his mood to-night, he might have had the coldest reception in Taunton, instead of the warmest. He was testy; he was depressed; he was imprudent beyond measure in the manner in which he disclosed this state of mind. He had been misled, he said; he had been cruelly deceived; and he believed he should take his own course from that moment. After all the fine promises he had heard,—after the distinct pledges that the entire order of Whig noblemen and gentlemen would rush to join him, there was not a peer, nor a baronet, nor a squire., who did not shut his gates upon him, and offer his services to put him down.
He was interrupted,—actually interrupted,—by two of his councillors at once, who asked him what else he could expect so long as he gave the game into the enemy’s hands, by leaving James the undisputed title of King. To ask England to ally itself with him on any other ground than his being King was to ask England to be republican; and there was nothing that the nation so much dreaded.
