ow cast upon her name,
would have sealed in death the presumptuous lips which uttered it."

"She betrayed his confidence?" asked Portsmouth, breathlessly.

"Betrayed--and worse!" gesticulated Nell, with the visage of a madman.
"A woman base, without a spark of kindliness--an adventuress! This is
the picture of that Eleanor Gwyn! Where is a champion to take up the
gauntlet for such a Nell?"

As quick as light, the King threw back the arras and came between them.
The Duchess saw him and cried out in surprise. Nell did not turn--only
caught a chair-top to save herself from falling.

"Here, thou defamer!" he called, his voice husky with passion. "Thou
base purveyor of lies, answer me--me, for those words! I am Nell's
champion! I'll force you to own your slander a lie."

The King was terribly in earnest.

"The guard! The guard!" called Portsmouth, faintly, almost overcome by
the scene. In her passion that the King so revealed his love for Nell,
she quite forgot that Adair was the bearer of her packet.

"I want no guard," commanded the King. "An insult to Nell Gwyn is my
cause alone."

Nell was in an elysium of ecstasy. She realized nothing, saw nothing.

"He loves me! He loves me!" her trembling lips breathed only. "He'll
fight for Nell."

"Come; draw and defend yourself," angrily cried the King.

Portsmouth screamed and fell upon his arm.

It is doubtful what the result would otherwise have been. True, Nell
ofttimes had fenced with the King and knew his wrist, but she was no
swordswoman now. Though she took up in her delirium the King's
challenge with a wild cry, "Aye, draw and defend yourself!" she realized
nothing but his confession of love for Nell.

The scene was like a great blur before her eyes.

She rushed upon the King and by him, she scarce knew how. Their swords
harmlessly clashed; that was all.

The cries had been taken up without.

"The guard! The guard!" "Treason!" "Treason!"

The air was alive with voices.

Nell ran up the steps leading to a French window, which opened upon a
tiny railed balcony. Below, one story only, lay a soft carpet of
greensward, shimmering in the moonlight. With her sword, she struck the
frail sash, which instantly yielded.

Meantime, the room had filled with courtiers, guards and gallants, who
had rushed in, sword and spear in hand, to guard the King.

As the glass shivered and flew wide, under the point of Nell's blade,
all eyes turned toward her and all blades