"With a woman!" replied the doctor. "There is one, who this morning was styled a countess, and, as such, waged war against you; the preliminaries of peace have been signed, and she is now the Duchess of Cleveland, for which concession she has consented to abjure the society of St. Albans' nephew, Jermyn, and to meddle no more with his Majesty's passion for the pretty Stewart!" "Thou dealest with the devil!" exclaimed the monarch, startled into an awkward admission. "_I deal with the stars_," replied the doctor, gravely, "_and they are unerring guides_." "Let them speak of the future, then, and perchance I may think so." "There is a bird a monarch seeks to cage, though the trembler knows him not. This night he hies to her bower in a strange habit, and hopes to win her thence; but let him take heed that more eyes look not on him than the young bird's; she may escape, and he be unmasked." "Odds my life! my friend, I think thou knowest me," cried Charles, laughing, as he drew a purse from his belt. "The stars proclaim thee England's king," replied the astrologer, as he bent his knee to the monarch. Charles satisfied himself by asking a few more questions, then threw the doctor his purse, and, bidding him come to the palace to receive another, he departed. The doctor reseated himself, and taking off his cap and venerable wig he disclosed the now easily recognized features of the Earl of Rochester. Rochester indulged in a hearty fit of laughter, as he muttered to himself,--"Already you have been outwitted once, friend Charles, thanks to De Grammont's aid, and shall be thrice, or Rochester will confess himself a fool, and unworthy to be recalled." CHAPTER V. When Rochester casually stopped, an hour after the king's visit, at the humble residence of Colonel Boynton, he was surprised to find much confusion there. Two rough-looking strangers seemed to have taken possession of the apartment usually occupied by the veteran. The unfortunate old man stood passive, cold, and immoveable, while his pretty daughter Margaret hung round his neck, weeping bitterly, and pleading alternately with him and with the strangers, who--the instruments of a flinty-hearted creditor--seemed quite unmoved by her touching sorrow. "What is this, my good friend?" asked Rochester, taking the colonel by the hand. "'Tis nothing," he replied, with a quivering lip, as he turned his gaze upon his daughter; "I have been deficient in punctuality to an impatient creditor, and he thinks the discipline of a prison may quicken my memory and resources." "Out upon him, the hard-hearted knave!" exclaimed Rochester, "he should have his ears slit to teach him better manners." "Oh, sir, speak to them!" cried Margaret, pointing to the officers; "they refuse to let me bear my poor father company." Rochester took the commitment from one of the men, and glancing at the amount of the debt, proceeded at once to liquidate it from the king's purse.