“Ha! ha!” laughed the first speaker. “He’s found that in this world peacemakers have devilish hard times, and always win the hatred of both sides. I’ll warrant you he will have but a chilly reception from His Majesty, who, they tell me, is downright afraid of him, and can’t endure his plain speaking, and that inconvenient custom he hath of scrupulous truthfulness.” “He will be ill-pleased that a Council was held last night in his absence, and the siege of Bristol determined on,” said the other. A third courtier strolled up. “Did you see my Lord Falkland’s face?” he said, with a sneer. “Is he grieving over the slaughter at Roundway Down, think you? or is it, perchance, that he finds his beloved Mistress Moray is undoubtedly in the last stage of consumption?” There was a general laugh as the ill-natured gossips made merry over the State Secretary’s friendship with this good and high minded lady, and, according to their own foul and depraved nature, judged one of the most spiritual and helpful influences that can be had in an evil world. Falkland, perfectly well aware of the way in which his private affairs were discussed, and conscious of the hostile atmosphere which surrounded him at the Court, passed gravely on to the King’s apartments, to be received by Charles much as the courtiers had prophesied, with very little warmth and no comprehension. The King in prosperity was never at his best. His arrogance and narrowness were apt then to become apparent, whereas in adversity his courage and a very noble patience were noteworthy. The prospect of speedy triumph, and the unhappy influence always exerted over him by the presence and counsel of the Queen, made him now more than ever antagonistic to his Secretary of State. He was seated in an elbow chair beside the open window, and on the oaken table beside him was spread a map of the Southern counties, which he had been studying. On the window seat lay a remarkably fine white poodle which Falkland noticed with a feeling of annoyance, knowing that the dog belonged to Prince Rupert, and betokened his near neighbourhood. “We received yesterday the good news of the victory,” said the King. “I trust you bring no worse report of Sir Ralph Hopton, my lord?” “He remains at Devizes, sire,” said Falkland, “and is steadily recovering from his injuries.” The King put several questions as to the doings at Roundway Down, and Falkland having replied to them, was debating how he could suggest that the victory made this a fitting time for the opening of negotiations with Parliament, when the King asked what was being done with the prisoners.