The Duke of Argyle led the way in silence to the small postern by which they had
been admitted into Richmond Park, so long the favourite residence of Queen
Caroline. It was opened by the same half-seen janitor, and they found
themselves beyond the precincts of the royal demesne. Still not a word was
spoken on either side. The Duke probably wished to allow his rustic prote'ge'e
time to recruit her faculties, dazzled and sunk with colloquy sublime; and betwixt
what she had guessed, had heard, and had seen, Jeanie Deans's mind was too
much agitated to permit her to ask any questions.
They found the carriage of the Duke in the place where they had left it; and when
they resumed their places, soon began to advance rapidly on their return to town.
"I think, Jeanie," said the Duke, breaking silence, "you have every reason to
congratulate yourself on the issue of your interview with her Majesty."
"And that leddy was the Queen herself?" said Jeanie; "I misdoubted it when I saw
that your honour didna put on your hat--And yet I can hardly believe it, even
when I heard her speak it herself."
"It was certainly Queen Caroline," replied the Duke. "Have you no curiosity to see
what is in the little pocket-book?"
"Do you think the pardon will be in it, sir?" said Jeanie, with the eager animation
of hope.
"Why, no," replied the Duke; "that is unlikely. They seldom carry these things
about them, unless they were likely to be wanted; and, besides, her Majesty told
you it was the King, not she, who was to grant it."
"That is true, too," said Jeanie; "but I am so confused in my mind--But does your
honour think there is a certainty of Effie's pardon then?" continued she, still
holding in her hand the unopened pocket-book.
"Why, kings are kittle cattle to shoe behind, as we say in the north," replied the
Duke; "but his wife knows his trim, and I have not the least doubt that the matter
is quite certain."
