"The King?" Dick cried, half-incredulously. "The King!" He grew hot, then cold, as he stood there, half-expecting some awful retribution to follow on his audacities. But then the King had not been angry; he had not seemed displeased. "The King!" he cried again. "The King!" echoed a voice behind him--a voice that carried him back to the leads of Dent. "Have you no word for Giles after all these months?" "Giles!" Dick cried, spinning round. But there was only the gentleman in white, whom the King had addressed as "My lord". "Don't you know me, little Captain?" The gentleman moved to the window, where the last glow from the evening sky was lingering still. "See!" he said. Dick searched the face. Yes, there were the eyes, the gray, kind eyes of Giles; but the hair cut square across the brow, and falling in curls on the shoulders, was not like Giles's. The long beard was gone, too, and under the upturned moustaches was a mouth Dick did not know. But there were the eyes, and as his own scanned more closely the costly dress, he saw his own little dagger in its worn red leather sheath, hanging by the courtier's rapier at his side. "Giles!" he said softly, and flung himself into his friend's arms. Some time later Giles said: "But, come! We have affairs, Dick. To business, with what appetite we may!" "Well, I'm hungry enough," said Dick simply. There was a tap at the door, and a magnificent gentleman entered. "Her Majesty holds you excused from supping with her, my lord," he said, bowing. "And His Majesty requests me to add he will not expect to see you these three days, with his farewells to you, and," said the gentleman, almost choking over the words, as if they outraged his sense of propriety, "his love to Sir Richard Chester of Dent." "Convey my most profound thanks to Her Majesty, sir, for her graciousness," said Giles calmly. "And my humble thanks to His Majesty, also, if you please." "And my humble thanks also," Dick stammered. "And my love, sir, please say, all Dick Chester's love." The gentleman visibly shuddered as he bowed. "Dick! Dick!" Giles said, laughing, "I should never wonder if that gentleman had a fit. What do you mean by sending messages like that, sir? Ah, but you're fickle! First me, then my master, then the--the Lady Dorothy is it? Then again my master. All your love, you pygmy! Cæsar's ghost! Where do you keep it all?" Dick laughed. "Don't you love people, then, Giles? You do His Majesty, and--and--" "And who, prithee?" demanded Giles. "Why, and me, Giles dear," said Dick serenely. "Come along," said Giles laughing again. "We've made free with His Majesty's rooms long enough. We will go and hunt up some officer who will take his troop over to your place to-night. 'Twould never do for us to sleep and let John Dent steal a march on us, eh? I know my man! As like as not he'll hear of your coming hither and do his best to outwit us."