“Sire,” replied Charles II., “I was going to Paris, in the hope of seeing your majesty, when report informed me of your approaching arrival in this city. I therefore prolonged my abode here, having something very particular to communicate to you.” “Will this closet suit you, my brother?” “Perfectly well, sire; for I think no one can hear us here.” “I have dismissed my gentleman and my watcher; they are in the next chamber. There, behind that partition, is a solitary closet, looking into the ante-chamber, and in that ante-chamber you found nobody but a solitary officer, did you?” “No, sire.” “Well, then, speak, my brother; I listen to you.” “Sire, I commence, and entreat your majesty to have pity on the misfortunes of our house.” The king of France colored, and drew his chair closer to that of the king of England. “Sire,” said Charles II., “I have no need to ask if your majesty is acquainted with the details of my deplorable history.” Louis XIV. blushed, this time more strongly than before; then, stretching forth his hand to that of the king of England, “My brother,” said he, “I am ashamed to say so, but the cardinal scarcely ever speaks of political affairs before me. Still more, formerly I used to get Laporte, my valet de chambre, to read historical subjects to me, but he put a stop to these readings, and took away Laporte from me. So that I beg my brother Charles to tell me all those matters as to a man who knows nothing.” “Well, sire, I think that by taking things from the beginning I shall have a better chance of touching the heart of your majesty.” “Speak on, my brother—speak on.” “You know, sire, that being called in 1650 to Edinburgh, during Cromwell’s expedition into Ireland, I was crowned at Scone. A year after, wounded in one of the provinces he had usurped, Cromwell returned upon us. To meet him was my object; to leave Scotland was my wish.” “And yet,” interrupted the young king, “Scotland is almost your native country, is it not, my brother?” “Yes; but the Scots were cruel compatriots for me, sire; they had forced me to forsake the religion of my fathers; they had hung Lord Montrose, the most devoted of my servants, because he was not a Covenanter; and as the poor martyr, to whom they had offered a favor when dying, had asked that his body might be cut into as many pieces as there are cities in Scotland, in order that evidence of his fidelity might be met with everywhere, I could not leave one city, or go into another, without passing under some fragments of a body which had acted, fought, and breathed for me. “By a bold, almost desperate march, I passed through Cromwell’s army, and entered England. The Protector set out in pursuit of this strange flight, which had a crown for its object. If I had been able to reach London before him, without doubt the prize of the race would have been mine; but he overtook me at Worcester.