The apartment into which the king had been shown was tolerably large, though the ceiling was low, and it was lighted by a bay-window at the further end, and by a lattice-window at the side, commanding the entrance to the house, and looking out upon the wood. A very pleasant room, wainscoted with black oak, and furnished with an ample dining-table, and chairs of the same material. In the days of old John Giffard many a festive party had gathered round that board after a day's hunting or hawking in the forest, but it was long, long since there had been revelry of any kind at the lodge. Over the carved oak mantel-piece hung a picture that caught Charles's attention. It was the portrait of a grave-looking personage in a velvet doublet and ruff, with eyes so life-like that they seemed to return the king's glances. "The old gentleman above the fireplace appears to bid me welcome," observed Charles. "He has a fine face." "It is the portrait of Squire John Giffard of Chillington, who built this house, my liege," said William Penderel. "It has always been accounted a good likeness. Ah! if the worthy squire could but have foreseen who would come here for shelter! Some good saint must have inspired him, when he contrived the hiding-places." "Of a truth, I ought to feel much beholden to him for providing me with such a place of refuge," remarked Charles. While examining the room, the king noticed a door on the left, and found on investigation that it opened on a small closet, with a lattice-window looking upon a retired part of the garden. There was no furniture in the closet except a desk, which might be used for prayer. "Is this one of the hiding-places?" asked Charles. "No, my liege," replied William Penderel, who had followed him. "This is an oratory. We are Roman Catholics, as your majesty is aware." "I see no altar," observed Charles. William Penderel opened a recess in the wall, so contrived that it had quite escaped the king's attention, and disclosed a small altar, with a cross above it. "Here we pay our devotions in private," he said. "And here I will pay mine," rejoined Charles. "I must return thanks to the Great Power that has hitherto preserved me. Leave me." Careless and William Penderel at once retired, and closed the door of the oratory. Left alone, Charles knelt down before the altar, and was for some time occupied in fervent prayer. [Illustration: BOSCOBEL HOUSE FROM THE FRONT.] CHAPTER II. HOW TRUSTY DICK BETHOUGHT HIM OF THE OAK.