This answer showed me the game. If he had come to bid her farewell--why, I understood now the parts in the comedy. If he left her for the Frenchwoman, why should she not turn to Simon Dale? The King bit his lip. He also understood her answer. "You lose no time, mistress," he said, with an uneasy laugh. "I've lost too much already," she flashed back. "With me?" he asked, and was answered by a sweeping curtsey and a scornful smile. "You're a bold man, Mr Dale," said he. "I knew it before, and am now most convinced of it." "I didn't expect to meet your Majesty here," said I sincerely. "I don't mean that. You're bold to come here at all." "Mistress Gwyn is very kind to me," said I. I would play my part and would not fail her, and I directed a timid yet amorous glance at Nell. The glance reached Nell, but on its way it struck the King. He was patient of rivals, they said, but he frowned now and muttered an oath. Nell broke into sudden laughter. It sounded forced and unreal. It was meant so to sound. "We're old friends," said she, "Simon and I. We were friends before I was what I am. We're still friends, now that I am what I am. Mr Dale escorted me from Dover to London." "He is an attentive squire," sneered the King. "He hardly left my side," said Nell. "You were hampered with a companion?" "Of a truth I hardly noticed it," cried Nelly with magnificent falsehood. I seconded her efforts with a shrug and a cunning smile. "I begin to understand," said the King. "And when my farewell has been said, what then?" "I thought that it had been said half an hour ago," she exclaimed. "Wasn't it?" "You were anxious to hear it, and so seemed to hear it," said he uneasily. She turned to me with a grave face and tender eyes. "Didn't I tell you here, just now, how the King parted from me?" I was to take the stage now, it seemed. "Ay, you told me," said I, playing the agitated lover as best I could. "You told me that--that--but I cannot speak before His Majesty." And I ended in a most rare confusion. "Speak, sir," he commanded harshly and curtly. "You told me," said I in low tones, "that the King left you. And I said I was no King, but that you need not be left alone." My eyes fell to the ground in pretended fear. The swiftest glance from Nell applauded me. I would have been sorry for him and ashamed for myself, had I not remembered M. de Perrencourt and our voyage to Calais. In that thought I steeled myself to hardness and bade conscience be still. A long silence followed. Then the King drew near to Nell. With a rare stroke of skill she seemed to shrink away from him and edged towards me, as though she would take refuge in my arms from his anger or his coldness. "Come, I've never hurt you, Nelly!" said he.