Wilding was shocked at the change that had been wrought in Monmouth's appearance during the few weeks since last he had seen him. His face was thin, pale, and haggard, his eyes were more sombre, and beneath them there were heavy, dark stains of sleeplessness and care, his very voice, when presently he spoke, seemed to have lost the musical timbre that had earlier distinguished it; it was grown harsh and rasping. Disappointment after disappointment, set down to ill-luck, but in reality the fruit of incompetence, had served to sour him. The climax had been reached in the serious desertions after the Philips Norton fight, and the flight of Paymaster Goodenough with the funds for the campaign. The company sat about the long oak table on which a map was spread, and Colonel Wade was speaking when Wilding entered.
On his appearance Wade ceased, and every eye was turned upon the messenger from London. Ferguson, fresh from his sermon, sat with elbows resting on the table, his long chin supported by his hands, his eyes gleaming sharply under the shadow of his wig which was pulled down in front to the level of his eyebrows.
It was the Duke who addressed Mr. Wilding, and the latter's keen ears were quick to catch the bitterness that underlay his words.
"We are glad to see you, sir; we had not looked to do so again."
"Not looked to do so, Your Gr... Majesty!" he echoed, plainly not understanding, and it was observed that he stumbled over the Duke's new title.
"We had imagined that the pleasures of the town were claiming your entire attention."
Wilding looked from one to the other of the men before him, and on the face of all he saw a gravity that amounted to disapproval of him.
"The pleasures of the town?" said he, frowning, and again--"the pleasures of the town? There is something in this that I fear I do not understand."
"Do you bring us news that London has risen?" asked Grey suddenly.
"I would I could," said Wilding, smiling wistfully. "Is it a laughing matter?" quoth Grey angrily.
"A smiling matter, my lord," answered Wilding, nettled. "Your lordship will observe that I did but smile."
"Mr. Wilding," said Monmouth darkly, "we are not pleased with you."
"In that case," returned Wilding, more and more irritated, "Your Majesty expected of me more than was possible to any man."
"You have wasted your time in London, sir," the Duke explained. "We sent you thither counting upon your loyalty and devotion to ourselves. What have you done?"
"As much as a man could..." Wilding began, when Grey again interrupted him.