reeborn Englishmen would be trampled underfoot.
What did it matter? It was necessary that his Grace of Buckingham should
cover up an indiscretion.

"Set ink and paper yonder," he bade his gaping valet. "Then go call M.
Gerbier. Rouse Lacy and Thom, and send them to me at once, and leave
word that I shall require a score of couriers to be in the saddle and
ready to set out in half an hour."

Bewildered, the valet went off upon his errand. The Duke sat down to
write. And next morning English merchants learnt that the ports of
England were closed by the King's express command--delivered by his
minister, the Duke of Buckingham--that measures were being taken--were
already taken in all southern ports--so that no vessel of any kind
should leave the island until the King's further pleasure were made
known. Startled, the people wondered was this enactment the forerunner
of war. Had they known the truth, they might have been more startled
still, though in a different manner. As swiftly as couriers could
travel--and certainly well ahead of any messenger seeking escape
overseas--did this blockade spread, until the gates of England were
tight locked against the outgoing of those diamond studs whirls meant
the honour of the Queen of France.

And meanwhile a diamond-cutter was replacing the purloined stones by
others, matching them so closely that no man should be able to say which
were the originals and which the copies. Buckingham and Gerbier between
them guided the work. Soon it was accomplished, and a vessel slipped
down the Thames, allowed to pass by those who kept close watch to
enforce the royal decree, and made sail for Calais, which was beginning
to manifest surprise at this entire cessation of traffic from England.
From that vessel landed Gerbier, and rode straight to Paris, carrying
the Queen of France the duplicate studs, which were to replace those
which she had sent to Buckingham.

Twenty-four hours later the ports of England were unsealed, and commerce
was free and unhampered once more. But it was twenty-four hours too
late for Richelieu and his agent, the Countess of Carlisle. His Eminence
deplored a fine chance lost through the excessive power that was wielded
in England by the parvenu.

Yet that is not quite the end of the story. Buckingham's inflamed and
reckless mind would stop at nothing now to achieve the object of his
desires--go to France and see the Queen. Since the country was closed
to him, he would f