partisan from him with
his own hand, and put it into that of Buckingham, saying, "What Coleby's
hand has borne, can disgrace neither yours nor mine,--and you owe him
this atonement. Time has been with him, that, for less provocation, he
would have laid it about your ears."

The Duke bowed deeply, but coloured with resentment, and took an
immediate opportunity to place the weapon carelessly against a pile of
arms. The King did not observe a contemptuous motion, which, perhaps,
would not have pleased him, being at the moment occupied with the
veteran, whom he exhorted to lean upon him, as he conveyed him to a
seat, permitting no other person to assist him. "Rest there," he said,
"my brave old friend; and Charles Stewart must be poor indeed, if you
wear that dress an hour longer.--You look very pale, my good Coleby,
to have had so much colour a few minutes since. Be not vexed at what
Buckingham says; no one minds his folly.--You look worse and worse.
Come, come, you are too much hurried by this meeting. Sit still--do not
rise--do not attempt to kneel. I command you to repose yourself till I
have made the round of these apartments."

The old Cavalier stooped his head in token of acquiescence in the
command of his Sovereign, but he raised it not again. The tumultuous
agitation of the moment had been too much for spirits which had been
long in a state of depression, and health which was much decayed. When
the King and his attendants, after half-an-hour's absence, returned
to the spot where they had left the veteran, they found him dead, and
already cold, in the attitude of one who has fallen easily asleep. The
King was dreadfully shocked; and it was with a low and faltering voice
that he directed the body, in due time, to be honourably buried in the
chapel of the Tower.[*] He was then silent, until he attained the steps
in front of the arsenal, where the party in attendance upon his person
began to assemble at his approach, along with some other persons of
respectable appearance, whom curiosity had attracted.

[*] A story of this nature is current in the legends of the Tower. The
affecting circumstances are, I believe, recorded in one of the
little manuals which are put into the hands of visitors, but are
not to be found in the later editions.

"This is dreadful," said the King. "We must find some means of relieving
the distresses, and rewarding the fidelity of our suffering followers,
or posterity will cry fi