They found the household in much disorder—the courtyard filled with carriages, the corridors with messengers waiting for the news. M. Zulestein told his companion that the Princess Anne (in open disgrace on account of her championship of my Lord Marlborough, who had been discovered in flagrant treachery) had sent a humble loving message, and that the King had replied warmly, but requested her not to come till there was a turn for the better. Dr. Burnet thought this answer of the King’s looked as if the doctors held out hope; he shouldered his way through the crowd to the Queen’s private apartments, and rather breathless and without ceremony he and M. Zulestein put aside the ushers and entered the first antechamber of Mary’s apartments. It was empty save for a couple of curious, frightened servants; but the door into the next room was open, and the two new-comers beheld an extraordinary scene. A little group with their faces hidden stood before the window; near them at the table was a florid, coarse-featured man, plainly dressed, and cast down before him a gentleman in a violet coat—on his knees with his hands raised in a gesture of abandoned entreaty. The back of this gentleman was towards Dr. Burnet. "Dear God!" he muttered, seizing M. Zulestein’s arm, "is it—the King?" M. Zulestein, utterly pale, made a gesture of assent, and hastened forward. The man before whom the King knelt stepped back in a kind of desperation, and cried— "If Your Majesty were to offer me your three kingdoms I could give you no other answer!" At this the King fell forward on his face, and he was lying so, prone, when the Bishop and M. Zulestein entered. Dr. Radcliffe wiped his forehead with his handkerchief, and looked round half-defiantly. "Gentlemen," he said hoarsely, "I take you to witness I have done my duty. His Majesty asked the truth. It is smallpox, and Her Majesty is sinking rapidly. I was not called in until it was too late." Portland had come from the window, and was raising the King. "You have some courage, sir," he said grimly. Dr. Radcliffe retorted in self-defence— "I did not undertake this for pleasure, your lordship; there was no one else would dare tell His Majesty." Portland got the King to his feet; the others stood awkward and still; William looked round and saw Dr. Burnet. "Did you hear?" he asked, under his breath—"did you hear?" He sank into the chair by the table. The Bishop approached with some faltering words of comfort, but the King cut him short. "They say there is no hope of the Queen!" he broke out. "No hope! I was the most happy creature upon earth, and now shall be the most miserable! There was no fault in her, not one—you know her as well as any, but you could not know her as I did—there was a worth in her none could know but I!"