For a long time I sat thinking of this, and of many other things in relation thereto, and the more I thought the more was I convinced that I ran no little risk in obeying the Duke of York's command. On the other hand, I could see that it would not be wise to refuse. The king's brother was next to the king himself, and if the story of Lucy Walters was false was the next heir to the throne. To refuse his commands, therefore, would be nearly as bad as refusing those of the king himself. It would moreover arouse suspicion, and might possibly lead to many unpleasant results. But more than all this, I longed much to know what the duke would say to me. I desired to find out the motives which prompted him to send for me. I did not fear danger--thoughtless youth seldom apprehends that--but I did ardently wish to discover what was in Duke James' mind. The clock of St. Paul's struck the hour of seven. I had not therefore a minute to spare. It was half an hour's walk from St. Paul's Cross to Whitehall, so I went to my bedchamber to bedeck myself in the best finery I possessed, and ere long I was passing Fleet prison, on my way to Whitehall. CHAPTER XVIII JAMES, DUKE OF YORK The clocks of Westminster were striking eight as I drew near the place I had been bidden to come in Whitehall. My heart beat fast at thought of what might happen to me, and of the commands which might be laid upon me, yet did I go on without faltering, for the more I wondered at the happening the more did I desire to know why I was commanded thither. The clock had barely ceased striking when a hand was laid upon my shoulder. "Master Roland Rashcliffe," a voice whispered in my ear. "You speak as if you know," I replied, and turning I saw a man of grave demeanour, and of somewhat sad countenance. "Follow me. Ask no questions, and make no protest at aught you may see." This he also said in a whisper, and although I obeyed him I liked not the secrecy of the business. As I passed along I noticed that many people were around, and that all seemed to be in gay humour and in gay attire. Truly the coming of the king had made a difference to London town. The whole city seemed to be given over to pleasure, and none of that solemn decorum which marked it a year before was now manifest.