I retired. But of a truth that morning every one in the Castle was engaged with someone else. At every turn I came on couples in anxious consultation. The approach of an intruder brought immediate silence, the barest civility delayed him, his departure was received gladly and was signal for renewed consultation. Well, the King sets the mode, and the King, I heard, was closeted with Madame and the Duke of York. But not with M. de Perrencourt. There was a hundred feet of the wall, with a guard at one end and a guard at the other, and mid-way between them a solitary figure stood looking down on Dover town and thence out to sea. In an instant I recognised him, and a great desire came over me to speak to him. He was the foremost man alive in that day, and I longed to speak with him. To have known the great is to have tasted the true flavour of your times. But how to pass the sentries? Their presence meant that M. de Perrencourt desired privacy. I stepped up to one and offered to pass. He barred the way. "But I'm in the service of his Grace the Duke of Monmouth," I expostulated. "If you were in the service of the devil himself you couldn't pass here without the King's order," retorted the fellow. "Won't his head serve as well as his order?" I asked, slipping a crown into his hand. "Come, I've a message from his Grace for the French gentleman. Yes, it's private. Deuce take it, do fathers always know of their sons' doings?" "No, nor sons all their father's sometimes," he chuckled. "Along with you quick, and run if you hear me whistle; it will mean my officer is coming." I was alone in the sacred space with M. de Perrencourt. I assumed an easy air and sauntered along, till I was within a few yards of him. Hearing my step then, he looked round with a start and asked peremptorily, "What's your desire, sir?" By an avowal of himself, even by quoting the King's order, he could banish me. But if his cue were concealment and ignorance of the order, why, I might indulge my curiosity. "Like your own, sir," I replied courteously, "a breath of fresh air and a sight of the sea." He frowned a little, but I gave him no time to speak. "That fellow though," I pursued, "gave me to understand that none might pass; yet the King is not here, is he?" "Then how did you pass, sir?" asked M. de Perrencourt, ignoring my last question. "Why, with a lie, sir," I answered. "I said I had a message for you from the Duke of Monmouth, and the fool believed me. But we gentlemen in attendance must stand by one another. You'll not betray me? Your word on it?" A slow smile broke across his face. "No, I'll not betray you," said he. "You speak French well, sir." "So M. de Fontelles, whom I met at Canterbury, told me. Do you chance to know him, sir?" M. de Perrencourt did not start now; I should have been disappointed if he had. "Very well," he answered. "If you're his friend, you're mine." He held out his hand.