"Your Majesty is indeed a great and happy Prince," remarked my lord, with that softness that gave his compliments the value of sincere meaning. The King went up to him, smiled at him in his heavy way, and touched him affectionately on the shoulder. "Well, well," he answered, "you give good advice, and I thank you, my lord." He fell into silence again, and the Earl took graceful leave, left the cabinet gently, and gently closed the door. When outside in the corridor he paused like one considering, then went lightly down the wide stairs. In the gallery to which he came at the end of the first flight was a group of splendid gentlemen talking together; my lord would have passed them, but one came forward and stopped him; he raised his eyes; it was M. Barillon. "You have come from His Majesty?" "Yes, sir," answered the Earl. "I do hope you did impress on him the need for a great caution," said M. Barillon quickly, and in a lowered voice, "The temper of the people hath been very clearly shown to-day." "I did my utmost," said my lord ardently. "Advised him to make concessions, warned him that the Prince was dangerous, but his obstinate temper would have none of it——" M. Barillon frowned. "I hope you were earnest with him, my lord; there is no man hath your influence——" My lord’s long eyes looked steadily into the Frenchman’s face. "Sir," he said, "you must be aware that I have every reason to urge His Majesty caution, since there is none as deep in his most disliked measures than myself, and if the Whigs were to get the upper hand"—he shrugged gracefully—"you know that there would be no mercy for me." The French Ambassador answered hastily— "Not for an instant do I doubt your lordship. Faith, I know His Christian Majesty hath no such friend as yourself in England—but I would impress on you the danger—things reach a crisis, my lord." He bowed and returned to his companions, while the Earl passed through the galleries of Whitehall, filled with courtiers, newsmongers, place seekers, and politicians, and came out into the courtyard where his chair waited. While his servant was fetching the sedan my lord put on his laced hat and lingered on the step. A tall soldier was keeping the guard; my lord regarded him, smiled, and spoke. "Fellow, who is your master?" The man flushed, saluted, and stared awkwardly. "Come," smiled the Earl whimsically. "Whom do you serve?" The startled soldier answered stupidly— "God and the King, your honour." "Ah, very well," answered the Earl slowly; he descended the steps and took a pinch of snuff. "So do we all—it is merely a question of which God and which King." CHAPTER II THE EVENING OF JUNE 30th, 1688