In 1649, when Charles II. was uncertain as to what steps he should take on the death of his father, it was considered that the best and safest place for his temporary residence was the Castle at S. Helier, in Jersey, known by the name of Queen Elizabeth, where he had already lived for a short time on an earlier occasion.Founded by order of the Sovereign whose name it bore, it stands on a rocky islet, once a promontory of the mainland, but long since insulated by every high tide.At low water it communicated with the town by a natural causeway of shingly rock called “The Bridge,” commanded by its own guns.On the Western curve of the bay, nearly two miles off as the bird flies, was the small town of S. Aubin, guarded by a smaller fortress.The entire bay was protected, by the batteries of these two places, against the entrance of hostile shipping.Circumstances, not now entirely traceable but connected probably with defensive considerations, had taken its ancient preponderance from Gorey, on the eastern coast, which had once been the seat of administration; and thus commenced the importance of S. Helier, though in nothing like the present activity of its quays and wharves, or the throng of its streets and markets.Above the head of the “Bridge,” indeed, the view from the North face of the Castle met with no buildings till it struck upon the Town Church, an ancient but plain structure of the fourteenth century, whose square central tower, although by no means of lofty elevation, formed a landmark for mariners out at sea by reason of a beacon that was always kept burning there by night.At the foot of this tower nestled a cemetery containing the tombs of “the rude forefathers” of what had been, till lately, indeed little more than a hamlet.On the southern aspect of this, facing the castle and the sea, the enclosure was marked by a strong granite breastwork armed with cannons mounted en barbette.These pieces were pointed, for the most part, on the bridge, or causeway leading to the Castle, into which they were capable of sending salvos of round-shot, as in fact they had often done a few years before.The rest of the cemetery was strongly walled, though without guns.To the north of the Church ran narrow streets, sloping gently upward from the seaside.The houses of these streets were built of the local granite, hewn and hammered flat and without projection or decoration, and with no other relief but what was afforded by small rectangular lattice-windows.They were usually of two storeys, crowned by high-pitched thatched roofs, with here and there a tiny dormer window.Some were shops or taverns, among which were interspersed the residences of the burgesses and the town houses of the rural gentry.Fronted by miry roadway, or at best an occasional strip of rough boulder pavement, over which wheeled carriages could rarely pass, these lines of houses had no form or comeliness, save what might be due to an occasional bit of small flower-garden before the few that were large and inhabited by persons in comparatively easy circumstances.Farther back the ground rose more rapidly and showed some scattered suburban houses.The “Town Hill” to the east, the “Gallows Hill” to the west, completed the amphitheatre.Up the main hollow ran a road leading due north to the Manor and Church of Trinity parish in the interior of the island, and terminating on the north coast in Boulay Bay, a fine natural harbour, which was the nearest point of embarkation for England.The whole island, scarcely less than the town, bore an appearance of defence, almost of inaccessibility; the manors, farm houses, and even many of the fields, being surrounded by granite walls, and capable of arresting the progress of an invader, unless in great force.Each of the twelve parish churches contained the arsenal of the local militia; and all things betokened a hardy population, ready to do battle against all intruders.

The titular Governor, Lord Jermyn, was an absentee, following the fortunes of the widowed Queen, Henrietta Maria, in France.The actual administration, both civil and military, was in the hands of a naval officer of experience, Sir George Carteret, or de Carteret, cousin and brother-in-law to the Seigneur of S. Owen, a large manor on the western side of the island.This family, distinguished in island history ever since it abandoned its fief of Carteret on the coast of Normandy to follow the fortunes of John Lackland, when the Duchy was confiscated by Philip Augustus, was by far the most powerful in the island.Its only possible rival, the house of Lempriere, of Maufant, had espoused warmly the cause of the Parliament, and had consequently met with reverses when the Carterets, who were royalist, effected the revolution mentioned in our Prologue.

It only remains to be added that the people at large were not at all warmly attached to either of the parties to the Civil War.The language of the majority was an old form of French, now reduced to the condition of a patois; the more educated classes studied the laws and language of France.The proceedings of the Courts and the services of the Church were conducted in modern French, and the sympathies of the community were divided between a mundane attachment to England, and a religious leaning to the creed of the Huguenots, of whom a great number had sought refuge on their shores.Hence the Jersey folks were indifferently submissive to royalty, the only form of English government of which, till these days, they had heard; but they by no means shared the High-Church fervour which had animated the late unfortunate King.Their ultimate motive, as is common to human nature, was for their own interests; and although the influence of the Carterets had kept them, for the most part, nominal followers of the cause of royalty, men like Michael Lempriere and Prynne had good reason for believing that they would, in the long run, favour those who seemed the best friends to Jersey.Let them not be blamed for this.Their love for England was very much founded upon fear of France.By observing the attitude of the Scottish borderers of a slightly earlier period, an Englishman of the seventeenth century could imagine the attitude of the Jersey mind towards the “Normans,” by which name they were accustomed to designate their feudal and aggressive Catholic neighbours the Lords and Ministers of the French Kingdom.Even as the Grahams and Scotts of Tweedside stood at arms against each other on either bank of the dividing stream, so did the de Gruchys and Malets, the Le Feuvres and de Quettevilles, on either side the Channel.The danger that was nearest was the most formidable; and the Channel Islanders were ready to side with England much as the Saxon Scots of the Lothians came to make common cause with the Celts of the Highlands.

These explanations may appear tedious:but the reader is implored to pardon them; for without such he could not realise the passions which are exemplified in this little story.Long exposed to invasion, the Jerseymen of the middle ages had handed down to their descendants an abhorrence of France which was fomented by the stories of persecution brought to them by Huguenot refugees; and which, indeed, has hardly yet completely died out among the rural population.Thus sentiment and interest kept the islanders attached to England by a two-fold cord; careless whether their immediate leaders were Cavaliers, as in Jersey, or Parliamentarians, as in the neighbouring island of Guernsey, where the royal Governor was beleaguered in Castle Cornet.

For reasons arising out of this state of things, Carteret did not leave the protection of the King to the unaided loyalty of the local militia.Cooped up in the narrow limits of the Castle rock were no less than three hundred Englishmen and women attached to the Court, and, in addition, a strong force of Irish and Cornish soldiers who had been brought over by Charles on his former visit, as Prince of Wales, after the battle of Naseby.His Sacred Majesty de jure of England, Scotland, and Ireland, King, to say nothing of France, whose lilies were blazoned on his scutcheon was de facto monarch of this little island plot of 45 square miles; and his state was at least equal to his temporary sway.The accommodation of the Castle was, in truth, but small; but it was the best that the occasion afforded; the royal palace consisting of a suite of small apartments vacated for the King’s convenience by the Lieutenant-Governor, Sir G. Carteret, who had removed to the lower ward.S. Aubin, on the other horn of the bay, was the seat of the naval power; here lived the families of the officers of the corsair-squadron then constituting the Royal Navy.The rest of the King’s following was billetted on farm-houses in the parishes nearest to the town.Yet, as a warning that all was not their own, four frigates and two line-of-battle ships, with a commission from the rebel government of London, and flying the broad pennant of Admiral Batten, cruised between Jersey and Guernsey, never far from sight, although giving for the most part a wide berth to both the island castles, whose gunners watched them night and day.

Such was the position of affairs on a Sunday towards the end of September, a few days later than the events related in the Prologue.The morning had been wet and windy, and the sacredness of the day had joined to keep the men of those simple times from all activity save that connected with the services of religion.But, in spite of the weather, it had been judged wise and proper that Charles should show himself at Church on this, the first Sunday of his kingship in Jersey:and he accordingly attended worship at the Town Church of S. Helier’s.The tide was low, and the royal cortege, muffled in their cloaks, rode or walked slowly along the causeway, and up the glacis that led to the entrance.The Rector was absent, his opinions being displeasing to the autocratic Carteret; but the Rev. Mr. La Cloche, Rector of S. Owen (the Carteret parish) was in charge; he was the Lieutenant-Governor’s private Chaplain; and under strict orders had made splendid preparation for the illustrious congregation.The old temple had been swept and garnished.Laurel boughs and the beautiful flowers and fruits of the season hung from every arch and decorated every pillar.The aisles were covered with a thick natural carpet of fragrant rushes; before the pulpit were chairs for the King and his brother the Duke of York, and the space they stood on was tapestried with glowing colours.Cushioned tables supported the gilded bibles and prayer-books for the royal worshippers, who arrived precisely at eleven followed by their numerous train.Throwing off his wringing roquelaure Charles entered, plumed hat in hand, a young man of middle stature, erect and well-knit for his years which were but nineteen and with a countenance which, though even then wanting in flesh and bloom, was not unpleasing:framed in natural curls, and showing (to sympathetic observers) a noble and pleasing dignity often, it must be avowed, contrasting strongly with the mingled frivolity and cynicism that marked his words.Being in mourning for the event of January he was clothed in purple velvet without lace or embroidery.Over his doublet hung a short cloak with a star on the left breast, under which was a silk scarf, cloak and scarf being all of purple.The famous ribbon of the Garter round his left knee was the only bit of other colour visible.James, a few years younger, was similarly attired.Besides the two Princes the only other Knight of the Garter was the Earl of Southampton.The rest of the Lords and Gentlemen in Waiting were also in Court-mourning, and all without the smallest decoration.

After the conclusion of the Service the clergyman ascended the pulpit in his black gown.He took his text from the second book of Chronicles, , the end of the 24th verse: “And all Judah and Jerusalem mourned for Josiah.”

The turn of Mr. La Cloche’s discourse may be in great measure anticipated.Setting forth the heinousness of rebellion and regicide, he dwelt upon the virtues of the Royal Martyr, his courage, his patience, his devotion to the Church.As was but natural in the circumstances, there followed an application to local politics.They were there, he informed his hearers (as the old lattices, shaken by the gale, rattled their accompaniment to his monotone) in the character of Englishmen; but he had to notice that to the existing rulers of England they owed no obedience.The so-called Parliament which had judged and murdered the late lamented Monarch, and which now claimed the right of ruling in his stead, was no divinely appointed head of affairs, not even representative of one Estate of the realm.Where were the Peers, the Lords Temporal who had ever formed part of the Government of England, the Lords Spiritual who represented the Church of Christ?The House of Lords was now represented to them, there in the presence of the Honourable Sir George Carteret, Knight and Baronet, whom that High Chamber had set and appointed to bear rule in that Island.Still more had they before them their Sovereign, the Anointed of the Lord, without whose assent all Acts of State must ever be futile and rebellious.Yes, he was there, that Sacred head, covered and guarded by the loyal hearts and arms of one only one of his Norman Isles.

As the sermon came to an end the storm without showed signs of abatement; and by the time the blessing had been pronounced and the King and Prince had mounted their richly caparisoned horses, the wind had lulled and the September sun gleamed brightly out upon the attentive and orderly crowd.On returning to the Castle Charles sate down to dinner, and a select portion of the more loyal Jersey society was admitted into the Hall to see the King at table.Only two places were set; and after a Latin grace had been pronounced by the Court-Chaplain, the dishes were taken, one by one, to the King and his brother, and whatever meats were approved were taken to the side-board and carved.The royal youths had stood with uncovered heads while grace was being said; but they replaced their hats when they sate down, and wore them throughout dinner.After they had dined the Page-in-waiting, a tall and handsome youth, richly attired, brought each of them a ewer and basin of parcel-gilt silver, with a fringed damask napkin; and after they had washed their hands a butler served them with Spanish and Gascon wines.Dessert having been placed upon the table and tasted, the princes withdrew; and then the hungry courtiers sate down to finish the repast.

Retired to his private sitting-room, Charles lay back on a window-seat, tooth-pick in hand, and looked out indolently on the sea.The waves scintillated and broke into white foam, among the brown rocks, which disappeared gradually under the rising tide; and the wings of glancing gulls shone out against a rain-cloud which was bearing off the recent storm.Below the dark pall the sky of the horizon glowed bright and clear as jade over the deepening line of the distant waters.At the King’s feet sat the page who had served the princes at dinner, a bright rakish-looking young fellow named Thomas Elliot; apparently absorbed in the preparation of fishing-tackle, he was heedfully watching the face of his royal master out of the corner of his dare-devil eyes.

“Where is James, Tom?” asked presently the King.

“Gone to feed the hawks, Sir.”

“One’s own flesh-and-blood is poor company, he finds.By the Lord, Tom, this is no life for a Christian, be he man or boy.To be lunged round my good mother at the length of her apron-string seemed but dull work, and making love to the Grande Mademoiselle was indifferent pastime.But, odsfish, I would willingly be back there.In this God-forgotten corner you cannot see a petticoat on any terms, save the farthingale of Dame Carteret or her ancient housekeeper, as they cross the courtyard to give corn to the pigeons.James and I went out fishing yesterday, as far as S. Owen’s pond; but no sport had we there but the chance of a broken head from a Puritan farmer.”

“Why, what a plague did they want by laying hands on our anointed pate?”

“Ah! look you,” said Charles, in his languid drawl, “We did but beg a cup of cider from his daughter.James hath a long face and a dull tongue for a boy of his age; but I warrant I spoke the wench fair for my part; and in French that had passed muster at Versailles.But ’tis a perverse and stiff-necked generation.The wench screamed in some language not understandable by us Carribee it may be but faith there was no difficulty about the farmer’s meaning:he conjugated his fists, but we declined the encounter; and so we were quit as to grammar.”

The manner of the speaker was in such dry and droll contrast with his matter that Elliot had no difficulty in according the sympathetic smile which is the tribute of the jovial and manly sycophant to a superior he wishes to please.

“And this is then, the escapade for which the gros bonnets down there have determined that you are not to stir out of this charming retreat without a guard, or suffer your sacred person to meet the air of the island without the hedge of an escort.But I have a plan to defeat them....”

Whatever projects the young men might be disposed to form for the purpose of eluding the prudent precautions of their seniors were for the moment cut short by a knocking at the door, which made them start aside like the disturbed conspirators that they were.

“Quick! vanish,” muttered the King sharply; “behind the bureau there.If the comer be Nicholas let him not see thee here.He bears thee no good will.”

As Elliot hurriedly obeyed, the door slowly opened, giving entrance to the Rector of S. Owen.The worthy clergyman still wore the gown and bands in which he had preached in the forenoon, and carried in his hand the four-cornered but boardless college-cap which formed part of the clerical costume of those days.Bestowing upon the youthful King a look whose awestruck humility was at curious variance with the respective ages and appearance of the two, and making an awkward obeisance, Mr. La Cloche spoke:

“I crave your pardon, Sir.Receiving no reply to my knock I presumed to enter, deeming mine errand an excuse.”

Charles pointed to a seat and drew himself up with dignity:

“It needs no further excuse, reverend Sir, say on, and fear nothing.”La Cloche seated himself on the corner of the chair.

“It is my humble duty to warn your Majesty that Jersey is no suitable place for your residence,” he said.

“We are very much of your mind,” answered Charles, “but how made you the mighty discovery?”

“I have been dining,” answered the clergyman, “in company with the Honourable Sir Edward Nicholas, Knight, Secretary of State to your Majesty.Certain of your Majesty’s affectionate servants and well-wishers were of the party, as also the Lieutenant-Governor, who was the host.The discourse was grave; and albeit without permission of the gentlemen yet, in virtue of mine office, I hope I but anticipate their humble duty to your Majesty, if I take upon myself to lay their thoughts before you.”

“And for your own part, Sir, as a Jerseyman having, both by religion and as a Member of the States, the means of knowing what the people think, you would fain join your own private word to those who are refusing an asylum to Charles Stuart in the dominions of his fathers.You had better let them speak for themselves.”

The clergyman shuffled in his uneasy seat.The perspicacity of the young man it is a part of a Prince’s stock-in-trade had taken him by surprise.

“I am an old man,” he faltered, “unversed in affairs of State.If it be true, however, that the Lord Jermyn....”

“Our mother’s trusted councillor, Mr. Rector!What of my Lord Jermyn?Thou hast not said enough or, by God! thou hast said too much.”

The Chaplain’s island temper hardened under menace, even from the Lord’s Anointed.What he felt he did not indeed care to lay bare:yet the upshot he would tell.The King’s recent exploit in the parish of which he was Rector had come to his ears, garnished and exaggerated, perhaps; and he was determined to get rid of such visitors if he could.The news from France was an occasion, and he gladly used it.Lord Jermyn, it seemed, had been talking openly and not for the first time of selling the Channel Islands to France; and his connection with the Queen made men suspect that he had not entertained such a design without high sanction.On the other hand the Rector knew that Carteret would sooner cede the Island over which he was set to Cromwell than see it occupied by the French.The King would be in obvious danger, and he had determined, under that excuse, to endeavour to dispose the King’s mind towards a removal which he himself, on other grounds, considered highly desirable.Charles listened to all the clergyman had to say, with impatience thinly veiled by good breeding.When the speaker came to a pause, the King said, with a kinder manner, “Thou hast done well, and hast given no just cause of offence to anyone.Mr. Secretary is an approved friend:but I need not remind your Reverence of the prayer of the Psalmist:‘Let not his precious balms break mine head!’”

The King’s manner indicated that the conference was at an end.He wished to get rid of the Rector, not only because the good man was “boring” him, as would be said now-a-days, but because he had but little trust in Tom Elliot’s discretion, and thought that at any moment the page might be led to break forth from what must needs be an irksome confinement.Moreover, the King knew that, sooner or later, he would have to undergo a more serious lecture from some of his councillors, and it was an object with him to make some inquiries in confidential quarters and devise a course of speech if not of action.

But the worthy Rector was, as he said, unversed in the ways of the great; and the young King’s affable manner had drawn him into forgetfulness of any little lessons of etiquette that he might have ever learned.Instead of departing on the King’s hint, he let his tongue wag afresh.

“Alack, Sir! may your Majesty’s prayers be heard.And may what I have done breed myself no harm!For what saith the Wise Man?’Burden not thyself above thy power while thou livest, and have no fellowship with one that is mightier than thyself:for how agree the kettle and earthen pot together?’”

“It was well said of the Wise Man,” observed the King demurely.“And your Reverence will do well to consider the words that follow, if my memory do not deceive me; ’If thou be invited of a great man, withdraw thyself!’”

The underlined words, being pronounced with a voice changed to a sharp and sudden tone from the solemn snuffle into which the King had slid in first quoting Ecclesiasticus, were too much for Elliot, who broke into an irrepressible giggle behind the bureau.Mr. La Cloche started at the sound; then, recollecting himself, retired with a bow into which he threw a look of surprise not unmixed with silent reproach.

Still laughing, the page emerged from his ambush, knocking the dust from his doublet with his hand, and eyeing the door as it closed after the retreating Rector.

“I’ll wager he thinks thou wert a wench, Tom,” cried Charles; “but tell me, how much of the worthy parson’s discourse didst thou hear?”

“As much as you desire, Sir, and no more,” was the discreet reply.“But it is true that one is come from France who knows Lord Jermyn.”

“Jermyn,” said the King, half soliloquising, “is a son of a ; and I would as lief run him through the body as I would open an oyster.But that is neither here nor there; such pleasures are not for Kings.”He sate thinking for a few minutes, and then, looking up, added, “Go, Tom, and tell Nicholas and the rest that I would see them here.”

The page departed, presently returning to introduce four gentlemen, after which, he again left the room and shut the door, which it would be his office to keep against all intrusion while the conference lasted.

One of the visitors appeared to take precedence; a tall, high-featured man, with a stoop and a receding chin.This was Lord Hopton, one of the most respectable of Charles’s followers; an honourable, stupid, middle-aged nobleman, who could never marshal his own thoughts and who, necessarily, spoke without persuading others.The other Englishmen were Nicholas, the Secretary of State, and the old Lord Cottington.The fourth gentleman was Sir George Carteret, the Lieutenant-Governor, a bluff sea-faring man, little used to obey, yet anxious, in that presence, to be deferential; with an unmistakable pugnacity varnished over with a gloss of ruse.There being but one arm-chair in the room Charles took his seat upon it, and awaited the advice of his friends who perforce remained standing.

“I have sent for you, my Lords and gentlemen, to confer on the matter brought me by Mr. La Cloche, the Rector of St. Owen, and Chaplain to Sir George Carteret.”

Hopton opened the conference, speaking in a dull, precise manner, from the lips only, hardly opening his teeth:

“May it please you Sir, Mr. La Cloche hath reported to me, as I met him returning from your presence, that while he was imparting to your Highness I may say, your Majesty a matter of great moment, there was one hid in the room that played the eavesdropper.Before proceeding farther I would humbly ask....”

“Hold there, my Lord,” broke in Charles.“Remember, I pray you, that howbeit our present power, by the malice of our enemies, be brought to a narrow pass, we are still, by the grace of God your King, of full age, moreover, and no longer to be schooled.As touching what anyone may have heard here, by our consent, we need answer to no man; neither to Mr. La Cloche nor to your Lordship.There is, however, no one but ourselves in this room, as you may clearly see.As to the matter of the priest’s discourse, we opine that it is already known to you.It is of that matter that we now seek to know your minds.”

The words were not ungracefully uttered; but Hopton found no immediate answer.He only knit his narrow brow and held his peace.Carteret, however, stepped briskly forward; and would perhaps have committed some indiscretion had not Nicholas plucked him by the cloak.“By your leave, Mr. Lieutenant,” said the jovial lawyer, “I would say an humble word to his Majesty, with the freedom of an ancient servant.”His round face and merry eye were rendered serious by the resolution of a full-lipped yet firm mouth.“Sir!” said he, turning to the young King with a look in which the bonhomie of an indulgent Mentor was blended with genuine respect, “it will, no doubt, seem to your Majesty both meet and proper that we should not leave a meddlesome parson to let you know that our faithful hearts have been sorely exercised by that which is newly come to us out of France.Not to stay on sundry general advertisements and rumours that have reached us and which seemed to glance at a very exalted personage I mean, more particularly, what we have received this morning from a very discreet and knowing gentleman (now residing at Paris) of what he hath learned from persons of honour conversant in the secrets of the Court there.”

“If it be her Majesty the Queen that you fear to name, Mr. Secretary,” interrupted the King, “it is but vain to fence.Do your duty, as you have ever done.”

“With your Majesty’s leave, I will name no one, save it be one Mr. Cooly, Secretary to the Lord Jermyn, whom your Majesty, doubtless, graciously recollects.Our informant was plainly asked by this gentleman, how the islanders would take it if there should be an overture of giving them up to the French.”

“This is but talk,” observed the King.

“Nay Sir, there is yet more.This letter, which is come to one of us in cypher, goes on to tell that it hath been heard, from a very good source, that the chief mover herein is to be made Duke and Peer of France, and receive 200,000 pistoles, for which he is to deliver up not Jersey only but Guernsey, Aurigny, and Serk.Nay, further, his Eminence Cardinal Mazarine hath taken up ships for the transport of 2,000 French soldiers, nominally for the service of your Majesty, actually for the service whereof we are now speaking.”

“Let them come,” said Charles.“We will put ourself at their head and fall upon Guernsey, that nest of Roundheads where Osborne and honest Baldwin Wake have borne so long the brunt of insult and privation.”

“Under your favour, Sir,” broke in Carteret, “you would be bubbled.I have seen and spoke with a known creature of my Lord Jermyn’s; and I know well that the design of the French is so to speak to clap your Majesty under the hatches, and to steer the vessel on their own account.Mr. La Cloche shall answer for this,” he added in a lower tone.

“By your leave again, Sir George,” put in the beaming Secretary, “we lawyers are to speak by our calling.It is not indeed, Sir, that my Lord Jermyn hath made direct overtures to us.And ’tis to be thought that in this last respect the messenger spoke but according to his own understanding.”

“I would cut every throat in the island,” cried Carteret, with savage interruption....

“Sir George Cartwright’s zeal hath eaten him up,” said Nicholas with a twinkle of his merry eye.“Let it suffice that the concurrent information of divers persons (and they strangers to one another), together with the Lord Jermyn’s total neglect of the island in regard of the provisions that he hath not sent as promised nor repaid sums of money lent to your service by the people, have led us to sign a paper of association for which we shall crave your gracious approval.We doubt not you will agree with us that the delivery of the islands to the French is not consistent with the duty and fidelity of Englishmen, and would be an irreparable loss to the nation besides being an indelible dishonour to the Crown.”

As Charles took the paper handed him for perusal by Nicholas, a flush arose upon his swarthy countenance.

“Enough said, my Lords and gentlemen!We need not that any should instruct us as to our duty.”

“We trust not,” cried Carteret, bluffly.“If the French come here we shall give them a sour welcome; and as to my Lord the Governor, he will find,” and he slipped in his eagerness into his native tongue, “that he has made lé marche de la peau de l’ours qui ne seroit pas encore tue.”

Presently the little Council broke up.The King, after glancing at the paper of association, consented that Lord Hopton in whose diplomatic abilities he perhaps did not feel much confidence should proceed at once to the Hague, and lay the case before the States General of Holland as the power most interested after England in sifting and, if need were, opposing the designs of France.Meanwhile the articles of the association were not to be divulged; the whole affair being kept a profound secret and mystery of State.

Somewhat relieved, the associates then retired from the presence of the yawning King, and passed down the little corridor.Here they found Elliot keeping watch, and pacing innocently to and fro.And the graceless page bowed their Honours down the stairs, without betraying by his manner anything to suggest which was, nevertheless, the simple truth that he had been attentively listening to as much of their recent conversation as could be gathered through the imperfect channel afforded by the key-hole of the door.Carteret cursed La Cloche’s officious meddling all the way to his own quarters, and on arriving there sent a sergeant to the unfortunate clergyman, who deported him to France by the next boat that sailed.

On returning to the room, Elliot found Charles walking up and down the narrow floor of his room in evident excitement.

“Tom,” said the King, as the page entered, “what is to do here?It seems that I am not to be master even in this little island of Hop o’ my Thumb.They lord it over me even as they did when I was here before, as Prince of Wales in partibus.”

“Why then,” answered the audacious youth, “I would even show them a clean pair of heels, and take refuge with the Scots.”

“The Scots who sold my father!”

“The Scots, Sir, of whom I am one,” cried the page, the hot blood of a race of Border-Barons rising to his forehead.“Am I and mine to be confounded with a crew of cuckoldy Presbyterians?I will not listen to any one who says so, King or no King.”

And the malapert youth flung out of the room, while his wearied master not unaccustomed to such outbreaks lounged into the dining room and called for his supper.