The name of the Inn, in West street, was, after the return of Charles from exile, changed from the “George” to the “King’s Head,” and as a memorial of the royal visit, the portrait of his Majesty became the sign of the house. It remained some years fixed on the outside of the premises; but about forty years since, when it was going rapidly to decay, it was taken down by the then landlord, Mr. Eales, and, having received a coat of varnish, was placed in an oak frame and hung up indoors. That, however, like every other memento of the flight of Charles, has some years been a thing of the past, the bedstead with its appurtenances whereon the royal personage slept, the chair whereon he sat, the cooking apparatus of the occasion, and every article connected with the event having long since been purchased at long prices to those persons who set store upon historical relics. On Royal Oak Day, the anniversary of the 29th of May, 1660, commonly called Restoration Day, it is customary for a large bough of oak to adorn the front of the “King’s Head.” The only relic in Brighton, in any way connected with the “Merrie Monarch,” is Nell Gwynne’s looking-glass. This glass is amongst the curiosities in the Brighton Museum, at the Royal Pavilion, and is the property of Sir Charles Dick, of Port Hall, Dyke Road, Brighton. It bears the likeness of Nell Gwynne and King Charles, which are modelled in wax; and also the supporters or crest which Nell assumed, namely, the lion and leopard. The whole is curiously worked in various coloured glass beads, and the figures with the dresses are made to project in very high relief; indeed, they are merely attached to the ground-work. In the upper compartment is Charles in his state dress, and in the bottom one that of Nell Gwynne in her court dress—the pattern of which is very tasteful. On the right is Charles in his hunting dress, and on the left is Nell in her negligée dress. The beads have retained their colours, which are very appropriate to the subject, and must have been a work of considerable time and patience; but whether done by Nell or not, there is no record. Mrs. Jameson says:—“Charles, in spite of every attempt to detach him from her, loved her to the last, and his last thought was for her—‘Let not poor Nelly starve!’ Burnet, who records this dying speech, is piously scandalized that the King should have thought of such a ‘creature’ in such a moment; but some will consider it with more mercy, as one among the few traits which redeem the sensual and worthless Charles from utter contempt.” CHAPTER XIX. PERSECUTIONS FOR CONSCIENCE’ SAKE.