ke of Marlborough was a spy too, and as much in
correspondence with that family as any Jesuit. And without entering very
eagerly into the controversy, Esmond had frankly taken the side of his
family. It seemed to him that King James the Third was undoubtedly King
of England by right: and at his sister's death it would be better to
have him than a foreigner over us. No man admired King William more; a
hero and a conqueror, the bravest, justest, wisest of men--but 'twas by
the sword he conquered the country, and held and governed it by the very
same right that the great Cromwell held it, who was truly and greatly
a sovereign. But that a foreign despotic Prince, out of Germany,
who happened to be descended from King James the First, should
take possession of this empire, seemed to Mr. Esmond a monstrous
injustice--at least, every Englishman had a right to protest, and the
English Prince, the heir-at-law, the first of all. What man of spirit
with such a cause would not back it? What man of honor with such a crown
to win would not fight for it? But that race was destined. That Prince
had himself against him, an enemy he could not overcome. He never dared
to draw his sword, though he had it. He let his chances slip by as he
lay in the lap of opera-girls, or snivelled at the knees of priests
asking pardon; and the blood of heroes, and the devotedness of honest
hearts, and endurance, courage, fidelity, were all spent for him in
vain.

But let us return to my Lady of Chelsey, who, when her son Esmond
announced to her ladyship that he proposed to make the ensuing campaign,
took leave of him with perfect alacrity, and was down to piquet with
her gentlewoman before he had well quitted the room on his last visit.
"Tierce to a king," were the last words he ever heard her say: the
game of life was pretty nearly over for the good lady, and three months
afterwards she took to her bed, where she flickered out without any
pain, so the Abbe Gauthier wrote over to Mr. Esmond, then with his
General on the frontier of France. The Lady Castlewood was with her at
her ending, and had written too, but these letters must have been taken
by a privateer in the packet that brought them; for Esmond knew nothing
of their contents until his return to England.

My Lady Castlewood had left everything to Colonel Esmond, "as a
reparation for the wrong done to him;" 'twas writ in her will. But
her fortune was not much, for it never had been large, and the h