ing Louis had
graciously proposed to make of me. I am glad when men who live by dirty
ways are made to eat dirt.

"And my father," said the Duke, "is happy. She is gone, Querouaille
stays; why, he's so enamoured that he has charged Nell to return to
London to-day, or at the latest by to-morrow, lest the French lady's
virtue should be offended."

At this both laughed, Monmouth at his father, Carford at his King.

"What's that?" cried the Duke an instant later.

Now what disturbed him was no other than a most imprudent exclamation
wrung from me by what I heard; it must have reached them faintly, yet it
was enough. I heard their swords rattle and their spurs jingle as they
sprang to their feet. I slipped hastily behind the cottage. But by good
luck at this instant came other steps. As the Duke and Carford ran to
the door, the owner of the cottage (as I judged him to be) walked up,
and Carford cried:

"Ah, the fisherman! Come, sir, we'll make him show us the nearest way.
Have you fed the horses, fellow?"

"They have been fed, my lord, and are ready," was the answer.

I did not hear more speech, but only (to my relief) the tramp of feet as
the three went off together. I stole cautiously out and watched them
heading for the top of the cliff. Jonah Wall lay still where he was, and
when the retreating party were out of sight I did not hesitate to search
his body for money. I had supplied his purse, but now his purse was
emptier than mine. Then I stepped into the cottage, seeking not money
but food. Fortune was kinder here and rewarded me with a pasty,
half-eaten, and a jug of ale. By the side of these lay, left by the Duke
in his wonted profusion, a guinea. The Devil has whimsical ways; I
protest that the temptation I suffered here was among the strongest of
my life! I could repay the fellow some day; two guineas would be by far
more than twice as much as one. Yet I left the pleasant golden thing
there, carrying off only the pasty and the ale; as for the jug--a man
must not stand on nice scruples, and Monmouth's guinea would more than
pay for all.

I made my way quickly back to Barbara with the poor spoils of my
expedition. I rounded the bluff of cliff that protected her
hiding-place. Again I stood amazed, asking if fortune had more tricks in
her bag for me. The recess was empty. But a moment later I was
reassured; a voice called to me, and I saw her some thirty yards away,
down on the sea-beach. I set down pasty and