and had the grim
satisfaction of passing by the door of the chamber where she lay with
her maid, and of watching her chariot set forth in the early morning. He
saw her smile and slip money into the man's hand who was ordered to ride
behind the coach as far as Bagshot. The road being open, and the other
servant armed, it appeared she dispensed with the escort of a second
domestic; and this fellow, bidding his young mistress adieu with many
bows, went and took a pot of ale in the kitchen, and returned in company
with his brother servant, John Coachman, and his horses, back to London.

They were not a mile out of Hounslow when the two worthies stopped for
more drink, and here they were scared by seeing Colonel Esmond gallop by
them. The man said in reply to Colonel Esmond's stern question, that his
young mistress had sent her duty; only that, no other message: she had
had a very good night, and would reach Castlewood by nightfall. The
Colonel had no time for further colloquy, and galloped on swiftly to
London, having business of great importance there, as my reader very
well knoweth. The thought of Beatrix riding away from the danger soothed
his mind not a little. His horse was at Kensington Square (honest Dapple
knew the way thither well enough) before the tipsy guest of last night
was awake and sober.

The account of the previous evening was known all over the town early
next day. A violent altercation had taken place before the Queen in
the Council Chamber; and all the coffee-houses had their version of the
quarrel. The news brought my Lord Bishop early to Kensington Square,
where he awaited the waking of his Royal master above stairs, and spoke
confidently of having him proclaimed as Prince of Wales and heir to
the throne before that day was over. The Bishop had entertained on the
previous afternoon certain of the most influential gentlemen of the
true British party. His Royal highness had charmed all, both Scots and
English, Papists and Churchmen: "Even Quakers," says he, "were at our
meeting; and, if the stranger took a little too much British punch and
ale, he will soon grow more accustomed to those liquors; and my Lord
Castlewood," says the Bishop with a laugh, "must bear the cruel charge
of having been for once in his life a little tipsy. He toasted your
lovely sister a dozen times, at which we all laughed," says the Bishop,
"admiring so much fraternal affection.--Where is that charming nymph,
and why doth she n