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Updated: May 18, 2025
"I'm sure," said Arlington, "that Mr Dale is most solicitous to serve His Majesty in all things." I bowed, saying to the Duke, "Indeed I am, sir. I ask nothing but an opportunity." "In all things?" asked Hudleston abruptly. "In all things, sir?" He fixed his keen eyes on my face. Arlington pressed my arm and smiled pleasantly; he knew that kindness binds more sheaves than severity.
I caught sight here of great ladies, there of beauties whose faces were their fortune or their ruin, which you will. Buckingham went by, fine as a galley in full sail. The Duke of York passed with Mr Hudleston; my salute went unacknowledged. Clifford came soon after; he bowed slightly when I bowed to him, but his heartiness was gone.
"Come, Mr Dale says in all things," he observed. "Do we need more, sir?" But the Duke was rather of the priest's temper than of the Minister's. "Why, my lord," he answered, "I have never known Mr Hudleston ask a question without a reason for it." "By serving the King in all things, some mean in all things in which they may be pleased to serve the King," said Hudleston gravely.
My brother and we who love him have great need of the services of all such." I stammered out an assurance of devotion. Arlington rose and took me by the arm, whispering that I had no need to be embarrassed. But Mr Hudleston turned a keen and searching glance on me, as though he would read my thoughts.
But the Duke, less able or less careful to conceal his mood, frowned heavily, while Hudleston cried impatiently, "Reservations! Kings are not served with reservations, sir." He made me angry. Had the Duke said what he did, I would have taken it with a dutiful bow and a silent tongue. But who was this priest to rate me in such a style?
Opposite to them stood a gentleman to whom the Duke, when I had made my bow, presented me, bidding me know Mr Hudleston, the Queen's Chaplain. I was familiar with his name, having often, heard of the Romish priest who befriended the King in his flight from Worcester.
In February 1685 Charles II. became seriously ill, and died in a short time, after having been reconciled to the Catholic Church by the ministrations of Father Hudleston, who had helped to save his life years before, and who had enjoyed the special protection of the king.
"I have found no fault with Mr Dale," said he haughtily and coldly, and, taking no more heed of me, he walked away, while Hudleston, having bestowed on me an angry glance, followed him. "Mr Dale, Mr Dale!" whispered Arlington, and with no more than that, although still with a smile, he slipped his arm out of mine and left me, beckoning Darrell to go with him.
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