d the king not chosen to ride to Castlewood, the Prince of
Wales might have slept at St. James's."

"'Sdeath! gentlemen," says the prince, starting off his bed, whereon he
was lying in his clothes, "the doctor was with me yesterday morning, and
after watching by my sister all night, told me I might not hope to see the
queen."

"It would have been otherwise," says Esmond, with another bow; "as, by
this time, the queen may be dead in spite of the doctor. The Council was
met, a new treasurer was appointed, the troops were devoted to the king's
cause; and fifty loyal gentlemen of the greatest names of this kingdom
were assembled to accompany the Prince of Wales, who might have been the
acknowledged heir of the throne, or the possessor of it by this time, had
your Majesty not chosen to take the air. We were ready; there was only one
person that failed us, your Majesty's gracious----"

"_Morbleu! monsieur_, you give me too much Majesty," said the prince; who
had now risen up and seemed to be looking to one of us to help him to his
coat. But neither stirred.

"We shall take care," says Esmond, "not much oftener to offend in that
particular."

"What mean you, my lord?" says the prince, and muttered something about a
_guet-a-pens_, which Esmond caught up.

"The snare, sir," said he, "was not of our laying; it is not we that
invited you. We came to avenge, and not to compass, the dishonour of our
family."

"Dishonour! _Morbleu!_ there has been no dishonour," says the prince,
turning scarlet, "only a little harmless playing."

"That was meant to end seriously."

"I swear," the prince broke out impetuously, "upon the honour of a
gentleman, my lords----"

"That we arrived in time. No wrong hath been done, Frank," says Colonel
Esmond, turning round to young Castlewood, who stood at the door as the
talk was going on. "See! here is a paper whereon his Majesty hath deigned
to commence some verses in honour, or dishonour, of Beatrix. Here is
_madame_ and _flamme_, _cruelle_ and _rebelle_, and _amour_ and _jour_, in
the royal writing and spelling. Had the gracious lover been happy, he had
not passed his time in sighing." In fact, and actually as he was speaking,
Esmond cast his eyes down towards the table, and saw a paper on which my
young prince had been scrawling a madrigal, that was to finish his charmer
on the morrow.

"Sir," says the prince, burning with rage (he had assumed his royal coat
unassisted by this time), "did