William Douglas, soon after, had the address to steal the keys of the gates, from the hall in which Sir William Douglas his father, and his mother, were sitting at supper. The queen, apprised of the circumstance, once more descended to the edge of the lake, where a boat was waiting, and having entered it, her maid assisted in rowing; as they approached the shore, William Douglas flung the keys into the lake. Having quitted the boat, the queen mounted a palfrey, and rode to Middry, the residence of Lord Seaton, where she was surrounded by her friends. She did not, however, long enjoy this respite from her misfortunes, the defeat of her army, at the fatal battle of Langside, in 1568, consigning her to a long and barbarous imprisonment, and, ultimately, to the scaffold. History records few princes who have been compelled to assume such a series of disguises, or met with such hair-breadth escapes, as fell to the lot of Charles the Second, after his overthrow at Worcester, which apparently crushed for ever the hopes of the royalist party. By the victors no means were left untried to seize upon his person, and had not the fidelity of his followers been even more than equal to the animosity of his enemies, he must undoubtedly have fallen a victim. A reward of a thousand pounds was offered for his apprehension, the formidable terrors of a traitor’s death were fulminated against all who should dare to shelter him, the country was scoured in all directions by numerous parties, and the magistrates were enjoined to arrest every unknown individual, and to keep a vigilant eye on the seaports. All, however, was to no purpose; his flight remained untraceable, his fate was involved in profound mystery, and it at length began to be supposed that he had perished obscurely by the hands of the peasantry. Forty-four days elapsed before the republicans received the unwelcome news that he not only still lived, but that he had eluded their pursuit, and gained a secure asylum in France. On the night which followed the decisive defeat at Worcester, the Earl of Derby recommended Boscobel House to the prince, as a place of refuge, and at an early hour in the morning Charles reached Whiteladies, twenty-five miles off. There the prince retired to assume his first disguise; his hair was closely cropped, his face and hands were discoloured, his clothes changed for those of a labourer, and a wood-bill was put into his hand, that he might personate a woodman. Under the escort of two peasants named Pendrel, he reached Madely, where he remained concealed till night, when he again sought his way to Boscobel. Here he found Colonel Careless, who was acquainted with every place of concealment in the country, and by his persuasions Charles consented to pass the day with him, amid the branches of a lofty oak, from which they occasionally saw the republican soldiers in search of them.