Early on May 25th Monk was roused at Canterbury with the news that the fleet, which was bringing home the King, was in sight. There he had just arrived, the idol of the swarms of gentlemen that were flocking to Dover to welcome Charles and push their fortunes. He was worshipped and tormented as the fountain of honour. In his pocket he had a long list of importunate friends and enemies whom he had good-naturedly promised to recommend for places in the Government. His bodyguard was filled with noblemen. The very roads threatened to be blocked with the multitude of high-born supplicants, till the old disciplinarian, shocked at the indecency of the scramble, imperiously enrolled them into regiments and insisted on some order being observed. Monk was "the sole pillar of the King's confidence," and so soon as the fleet reached Dover Roads Charles sent an express to say that he would not land till he came to him. No sooner was the summons received than he was on horseback again hastening to Dover. The critical moment had come. Every one then agreed that it was Monk who had restored the King, but how and why no one could exactly tell. As the boat containing the royal party touched the beach they crowded round to see the meeting of the two uncrowned kings, hoping that Monk's demeanour would lift the mist in which the future was wrapped and show them who was going to wield the sceptre. Charles himself was as nervous and anxious as the rest. This formidable figure that had arisen so suddenly and with such mystery, this man of darkness who had done as it were single-handed what for years had defied the efforts of his own most trusted councillors, and who yet forbade the very mention of reward, the perplexed King could only fear. On the beach they met, and to every one's surprise the soldierly figure sank upon its knee and kissed the royal hand as deferentially as though it were the king who had made the general. Startled into an unwonted display of emotion Charles raised him, and embracing him with genuine fervour called him his father. Both were too moved for many words. Without more ado, amidst the shouts of the people and the thunder of the guns from forts and fleet, the two walked side by side to the royal coach. There the soldier of fortune took his place with the King and his brothers; and the Duke of Buckingham was clever enough, to every one's annoyance, to get possession of the boot uninvited.