"Staunchest of the staunch, sire. With the colonel is his sister, Mistress Jane Lane, one of the fairest damsels in the county, and devoted to your majesty. He on the roan horse, and in the green jerkin, laced with silver, is Sir Clement Fisher, of Packington Hall, in Warwickshire." [Illustration: JANE LANE PRESENTED TO CHARLES II.] "Jane Lane's suitor, I'll be sworn!" cried Charles. "Your majesty has hit it," replied Careless, with a smile. While this brief colloquy took place, the party had stopped, as if awaiting permission to advance. "Bring them to me, and present them," said Charles. Careless, who was a _preux chevalier_, executed his task with infinite grace. It was a charming sight to witness Jane Lane's presentation to the young king. There was an ingenuousness in her manner that delighted Charles. She seemed to possess great spirit and force of character, and yet she had all the most agreeable feminine qualities. As to her beauty there could be no question. Brighter black eyes, features of greater delicacy and refinement, tresses more exquisite, Charles had never beheld. Though she coloured deeply when she first encountered the king's gaze, she manifested no embarrassment. There was a certain likeness between Colonel Lane and his sister, though the colonel had strongly-marked traits, a firm mouth, and a bold, determined look. But he had dark eyes like Jane, and in them resided the expression that constituted the likeness. Sir Clement Fisher was an admirable specimen of a Cavalier--handsome, brave, chivalrous, he seemed formed to win a fair lady's heart. Whether he had won that of Jane Lane will be seen. "How is it I have not yet seen you at Worcester, gentlemen?" inquired Charles. "We are on our way thither, sire," replied Colonel Lane. "You will see us at the Muster at Pitchcroft to-morrow. We have not been lukewarm in your majesty's cause." "Even I have done something for you, sire," said Jane. "This morning I have secured your majesty forty horse; and I hope to render you still better service before the day is over." "My sister is zealous, you perceive, sire," remarked Colonel Lane, with a smile. "Were there a hundred like her I should soon have an army," observed Charles, highly pleased. "But what is the great service you hope to render me?" "Nay, sire," she rejoined, playfully, "you must allow me to keep my secret. 'Twill be a surprise to you to-morrow." "Then I will ask you no further questions, yet I would fain know why you came here. You could not have expected to find me at Madresfield." "Pardon me, your majesty, I _did_ expect to find you here." "Oddsfish! you must be a witch," cried Charles, laughing. "There is no sorcery in the matter, sire. Have you not sent a messenger to Mr. Thomas Hornyold, of Blackmore Park, commanding him to attend upon you at Madresfield this afternoon?" "And you have seen the messenger?"