"I do not think Your Majesty would be pleased if I told you."

"That is possible, ay likely. Such as you often do that which might not please me. But tell me."

"If I tell you I would rather speak to your private ear," I said.

"Ay, and fancy you could get off a c.o.c.k-and-bull story upon me. Nay, nay, methinks we are getting to the bottom of this thing. Now then, what led you to go to Pycroft?"

"I had heard that there was something of great import there."

"Ah, that is fine. But why should it displease me?"

"Because it had to do with Your Majesty."

"With me. With me. From whom did you hear of it in the first place?"

"From a woman named Katharine Harcomb," I replied boldly.

Charles Stuart started as though a wasp had stung him, and then he shrugged his shoulders scornfully.

"I am weary of this," he said, "for the thing hath ceased to be sport.

Let this boy and girl be securely guarded until I have time to look into the matter carefully." And then he turned negligently to the woman with whom he had been speaking, while the others in the company exchanged meaning glances.

It was near midnight that same night when I was brought before the king again.

CHAPTER XXV

THE JUDGMENT OF THE KING

It came about in this wise. I had been taken away by myself into an empty chamber, which was carefully guarded. Not that I was treated rudely. Rather marked respect was paid to me, and I lacked nothing which any man might desire. Nevertheless I had thought much of the scene through which I had been pa.s.sing, and what it all portended. I could not help realizing that the king had dismissed us very abruptly, and that sore displeasure had rested upon his face as I had spoken. As for Constance, her condition troubled me more than my own. I had noted the look in the king's eyes as he had watched her, and remembering what men said concerning him, I feared much. I determined however that no harm should happen to her, whatever might befall, for did I not love her with all my heart, and had I not told her of my love? Moreover I had promised that I would protect her, and as I thought of this, even prison walls became as nought to me. It was while I was scheming how I should fulfil my promise to her that a lackey entered the room and bade me follow him.

This I did like a man in a dream, for a great silence had fallen upon the king's palace, and everything appeared grim and ghostly. He led me through long corridors, and tortuous ways, so that without a guide I doubt if I could ever have found my way back to the room from which I had come. Presently, however, I heard the sound of distant laughter, and the noise of songsters, then as some intervening wall kept these sounds from reaching me, I pa.s.sed by an open window, and heard the nightingales singing amongst the trees close by.

The lackey spoke no word, neither good nor bad, to me. I thought he looked sleepy, and would gladly have gone to his rest. Perhaps this was true, for it was rumoured that the king kept strange hours, and expected peculiar service at the hands of his servingmen.

Presently I stood in a little ante-chamber, where I was bidden to wait until it was the king's pleasure to see me, and here I waited I should think a full hour. The first part of the time was weary enough, but the second part pa.s.sed like a flash of light, and this was because, even although I had tried not to listen, I had to hear that which interested me past words.

Evidently I was close to the apartment where the king was, for every word he spoke reached me with great plainness; but it was not his voice which thrilled my heart, it was anothers, as I shall soon have to tell.

"I pray thy pardon, pretty maid," I heard Charles say. "I know thou hast had a long day's ride, and must be aweary, but I felt I could not sleep until I had speech with thee again."

"I have nothing to say to Your Majesty," replied the voice of Constance.

"But I have much to say to thee, fair Constance. It is not oft that even a king beholds one so fair, or hears one whose speech is so pleasing.

Besides, it will be to thine interest to listen to me, and to regard my proposals favourably."

The king's voice was, as I thought, thick with much wine, and I fancied I could see the evil leer in his black beady eyes as he spoke.

"I have brought thee here to-night," he went on, "so that I may tell thee of many things. And first, I desire that thou shouldst tell me what thou didst refuse but a few hours since. Where is this Puritan sister of thine?"

"And if I told Your Majesty?"

"Ah, pretty Constance, if it had been thee--well I fear thou wouldst have too lenient a judge. But thy sister is the wife of Denman, a man whose immediate arrest I have commanded. A bitter, sour-faced, lying Puritan, a man who took a leading part in the murder of my father. And this sister of thine, well she tried to kill the man who sought to bring me back to my kingdom. That is not easy to forgive. Had it been thy little hand which would have done this, I should e'en have laughed at Monk's dour face, and forgiven. And yet I must not forget. Thou hast shielded thy sister; thou hast kept her from punishment, and therefore--well, unless--but let me think----"

"I have decided to forgive thee on two conditions," he went on presently.

"And they, Your Majesty?"

"The first is that thou wilt tell me where this sister of thine is. The second will, I trust, be pleasing to thee, for surely the king's smile, and the king's companionship should----"

"Pardon me, Your Majesty," cried Constance, "but there is no need to speak of the second condition since I will never accept the first."

"You will not tell me where your sister is?"

"No, Your Majesty."

The king laughed. "I must e'en find out without your telling," he said.

"You never can;" and there was defiance in her voice.

"Ah!"

I noted the anger in his voice, and I forgot that I was listening to conversation which the king never intended should reach my ears, so eager was I to know what would follow.

"It is said that I am of an easy temper," he went on presently, "and it is hard to be angry in the presence of one so fair. Yet must the king be obeyed. So be sure of this, pretty Constance. I will e'en find the whereabouts of your sister. As for your father, he is already under arrest, and it will depend on you as to whether he goes to the gallows with the rest of my father's murderers, or whether he hold his head high in the state."

"On me, Your Majesty?"

"Ay, on you, pretty Constance." And then he said words which I will not write down, so base were they.

"Of this be a.s.sured," he went on, and it was easy to see that wine had unloosed his tongue, and driven away his judgement. "I will give no quarter to these canting Puritans. Neither for that matter will I bestow any favour upon these Presbyterians. I will have only such religion in my realm as I please. Not that I am much wedded to religion at all, especially that of the stern and strict nature. But this I know, it is to the Episcopals that I owe my crown, and it was they who fought for my father during the rebellion. Depend upon it, therefore, I will make short shrift of these hot-gospellers, and I will see to it that only those who are loyal to the crown shall be tolerated."

"Then Your Majesty's promises will go for nothing!" And there was a sting of scorn in Constance's tones, as well as in her words.

The king laughed. "A man makes reservations even in his promises," he said, "and think not that I am going to allow my father's murderers to go around stirring up dissension, or hot-gospellers to preach rebellion.

Nay, you will soon see. The Puritans had no mercy, and _Grand Dieu_ neither will I!"

At this there was silence.

"So, fair Constance, I beseech you for your own sake to--to be obedient to my wishes, and----"

"Will Your Majesty be pleased to forgive me," cried Constance. "It ill becomes me to boast, but I am not afraid of death, and so I beseech Your Majesty to mete out my punishment without delay."

"You mean that----"

"It would be better for me to die than that my father's child should turn traitor or coward."