hey'll do very well together at the inn," I laughed, as I flung myself
on my bed.

CHAPTER XXII

THE DEVICE OF LORD CARFORD

It is not my desire to assail, not is it my part to defend, the
reputation of the great. There is no such purpose in anything that I
have written here. History is their judge, and our own weakness their
advocate. Some said, and many believed, that Madame brought the young
French lady in her train to Dover with the intention that the thing
should happen which happened. I had rather hold, if it be possible to
hold, that a Princess so gracious and so unfortunate meant innocently,
and was cajoled or overborne by the persuasions of her kinsmen, and
perhaps by some specious pretext of State policy. In like manner I am
reluctant to think that she planned harm for Mistress Barbara, towards
whom she had a true affection, and I will read in an honest sense, if I
can, the letter which M. de Fontelles brought with him to Hatchstead. In
it Madame touched with a light discretion on what had passed, deplored
with pretty gravity the waywardness of men, and her own simplicity which
made her a prey to their devices and rendered her less useful to her
friends than she desired to be. Yet now she was warned, her eyes were
open, she would guard her own honour, and that of any who would trust to
her. Nay, he himself, M. de Perrencourt, was penitent (even as was the
Duke of Monmouth!), and had sworn to trouble her and her friends no
more. Would not then her sweet Mistress Barbara, with whom she vowed she
had fallen so mightily in love, come back to her and go with her to
France, and be with her until the Duchess of York came, and, in good
truth, as much longer as Barbara would linger, and Barbara's father in
his kindness suffer. So ran the letter, and it seemed an honest letter.
But I do not know; and if it were honest, yet who dared trust to it?
Grant Madame the best of will, where lay her power to resist M. de
Perrencourt? But M. de Perrencourt was penitent. Ay, his penitence was
for having let the lady go, and would last until she should be in his
power again.

Let the intent of the letter he carried be what it might, M. de
Fontelles, a gentleman of courage and high honour, believed his business
honest. He had not been at Dover, and knew nothing of what had passed
there; if he were an instrument in wicked schemes, he did not know the
mind of those who employed him. He came openly to Hatchstead on an
honou