Lord Wilmot, as the reader is aware, was a special favourite of the king, and his majesty had more dependence upon him than upon any one else, save Careless. Lord Wilmot must not be confounded with his son, the dissolute Earl of Rochester, who figured some years afterwards at the court of the Merry Monarch. A brave, chivalrous nobleman, he was able to act as a sort of Mentor to the king. Lord Wilmot had, in fact, belonged to the court of Charles I., and had acquired the grave manners of that period. Tall and strongly built, he had handsome, expressive features. The Earl of Rochester, as is well known, could successfully counterfeit any part he pleased, but he did not inherit his talent any more than his vices from his father, who could never be prevailed upon to assume a disguise, declaring that, if he did so, he should infallibly be found out. Seeing that the king looked much fatigued with his journey, Lord Wilmot besought him to postpone all conversation till he had taken some refreshment, and opening a cupboard his lordship produced some cates and a flask of canary. Charles sat down, and emptying a goblet of generous wine, insisted upon all the others following his example, and while they were doing so a gentle tap was heard at the door, which was opened by Father Huddlestone, and Mr. Whitgreave came in. "What of my faithful attendants--the Penderels?" cried the king. "Have they been well cared for? Pardon the question, Mr. Whitgreave. I am sure they have." "They are gone, my liege," replied Whitgreave. "And I must say that I never saw men more grieved to part with a master than these loyal-hearted fellows are to quit your majesty." "Say you sooth?" cried Charles. "Your majesty shall judge," replied Whitgreave. "I took them to the buttery, where I have often seen each and all of them make a hearty meal, and where there was plenty of cold meat, and bade them fall to and spare not. They declined. And when I pressed them further, saying they would discredit my house if they went away without supper, they said they had no appetite. 'No appetite!' I exclaimed. 'How is this?' But I soon found out what was the matter. Each honest heart was full, and wanted relief. A single morsel of meat would have choked any one of them. However, they drank a cup of ale to your majesty's health." "And they are gone?" cried Charles. "I should have liked to see their honest faces once more." "Your majesty knows where to find them should you again require their services," said Mr. Whitgreave. "And I am sure nothing will delight them more than to have another opportunity of proving their fidelity."