When a misled rabble had
dethroned my father, girl, and murdered him before our palace gate, and
bequeathed the glorious arts and progressive sciences to religious
bigots and fanatics, to trample under foot and burn--when, if a little
bird sang overjoyously, they cut out his tongue for daring to be
merry--in some lonely home by some stranger's hearth, a banished prince,
called Charles Stuart, oft found an asylum of plenty and repose; and in
your eyes, my Nell, I read the self-same, loyal, English heart."

There was all the sadness of great music in his speech. Nell fell upon
her knee, and kissed his hand, reverently.

"My King!" she said; and her voice trembled with passionate love.

He raised her tenderly and kissed her upon the lips.

"My queen," he said; and his voice too trembled with passionate love.

"And Milton says that Paradise is lost," whispered Nell. Her head rested
on the King's shoulder. She looked up--the picture of perfect
happiness--into his eyes.

"Not while Nell loves Charles," he said.

"And Charles remembers Nell," her voice answered, softly.

Meanwhile, the rotund landlord had entered unobserved; and a contrast he
made, indeed, to the endearing words of the lovers as at this instant he
unceremoniously burst forth in guttural accents with:

"The bill! The bill for supper, sir!"

Nell looked at the King and the King looked at Nell; then both looked at
the landlord. The lovers' sense of humour was boundless. That was their
first tie; the second, their hearts.

"The bill!" repeated Nell, smothering a laugh. "Yes, we were just
speaking of the bill."

"How opportune!" exclaimed Charles, taking the cue. "We feared you would
forget it, sirrah."

"See that it is right," ejaculated Nell.

The King glanced at the bill indifferently, but still could not fail to
see "3 chickens" in unschooled hand. His eyes twinkled and he glanced at
the landlord, but the latter avoided his look with a pretence of
innocence.

[Illustration: THE DECEPTION.]
"Gad," said Charles, with a swagger, "what are a few extra shillings to
Parliament? Here, my man." He placed a hand in a pocket, but found it
empty. "No; it is in the other pocket." He placed his hand in another,
only to find it also empty. Then he went through the remaining pockets,
one by one, turning them each out for inspection--his face assuming an
air of mirthful hopelessness as he proceeded. He had changed his garb
for a merry lark, but had neglecte