Our situation was now one of great peril. Three persons, whatever their valour, were powerless to defend themselves from a press of this magnitude. I incline to think our fate would have been a sorry one had not the mother-wit of the Count of Nullepart arranged our deliverance. While the mob were surging angrily around us and stones were flying about our ears, our companion spoke some words in a low voice to the captain of the King’s Guard, and this time he used the French tongue. The effect was like magic. The captain instantly removed his plumed hat, and bowing very low, led us through the gate and into the precincts of the palace, leaving his company to deal in what sort it suited them with a mob that by now was in no gentle humour. Once within the walls of the palace, the Count of Nullepart dismissed the King’s officer with a word of thanks; and then, under the count’s own direction, we entered an exceeding large antechamber, which was thronged with as fine a company as I have ever beheld. There were priests of high learning and dignity, wearing their soutanes; there were soldiers in bright doublets and shining armour; there were austere and sombre-coated ministers; there were gay and handsome courtiers in very modish and brilliant attire; and beyond all else there was a number of beautiful ladies. This fine company was talking very loudly and laughing very gaily at the time we came into the room. But our entrance being a public one, mainly owing to the manner in which Sir Richard Pendragon clanked his spurs on the marble floor and the great voice in which he conversed with the Count of Nullepart, the attention of all present was immediately drawn upon us. Now I know not whether it was due to the magnificence of our apparel or the pride of our bearing, yet the lively talk and the gay mirth subsided in the most sudden manner. Each person in the room seemed to turn to regard us with a wonderment that scorned disguise; and then the silence was broken by a titter from one of the fine ladies. The court gallants who surrounded them were not slow to follow their example. The leader of our embassy, however, was not disconcerted in the least by this public rudeness. Sir Richard Pendragon stroked his chin with a disdain that appeared to amuse these courtiers the more; and then, turning at his leisure to the richly attired gallant that was nearest to him, he said in a voice like thunder, “Hi, you, sirrah, you with a face like a monkey, do you go to the King your master, and do you inform him that an embassy is come from Spain upon an affair of delicacy.” The youthful courtier placed his jewelled fingers on the hilt of his sword. His unseasonable mirth was now changed to a look of ferocious anger. “Do you hear me, good jackanapes?” said the English giant in his great insolent voice that surmounted everything and re-echoed to the high ceiling upon which was a painting of Venus and Cupid.