"You govern the town so well, Master Mayor, that I will not rob the people of such good service," he said with a smile, whereupon the people shouted again, although they did not seem to know why they were shouting. Then the mayor, who looked very elated and joyous, presented the king with a very gaily and beautifully bound Bible, saying as he did so-- "In the name of your loyal citizens, I do humbly offer your Majesty a copy of the sacred Scriptures, which we possess through the learning, the piety, and the gracious goodness of your most learned and sacred grandfather, King James the First of England." At this the king smiled again, and receiving the Bible, which he afterwards gave to one of his retainers, he said, "I accept this gift with great thanks, Master Mayor; among all things which I love in the world, I love the Bible best." He wellnigh laughed as he said this, but the people, if possible, became more excited than ever. "He loves the Bible!" they cried. "He is a pious king! God save His Majesty!" After this he walked with General Monk towards a canopy, under which he stood talking with his nobles. It was at this time that I realized how keen and penetrating was the king's gaze. For although his eyes seemed to be habitually half closed, he did at times open them wide and look keenly around him. Moreover, he seemed to understand everything at a glance. I noticed also that when the king spoke it was to the point, and that his remarks were weighty with sense. "I will not stay at Dover," he said to General Monk. "The people have seen me, and that is enough. From what I can gather they love a king more than a protector; nevertheless, it is well that I go straight to Canterbury Cathedral, where, in the interests of religion, I will publicly give thanks to God for my safe return to my people." "A wise step, your Majesty," said a young man who had stood near the king the whole time. "Ah, Master Tom Killigrew, I expect you to write a great ode to our landing this day." "I would that my poor wit were equal to the subject, your Majesty." "Well, we shall see. Thou hast been faithful in mine adversity, and now we return to gladder times." "There have been many faithful during your Majesty's adversity. Through all the dark years there have been many who have not bowed the knee to Baal." It was my father who spoke. Through influences that I knew not of, he had obtained a place for us near General Monk, at the landing, and now through the same means we had followed the king to the canopy. "Who is this?" asked the king sharply. "It is Master Philip Rashcliffe," said a voice. "He was one who fought for your gracious sire in the first civil war, and was grievously wounded." He gave only a passing glance to my father, but fixed his eyes on me, who stood by his side. "And who is this brave youth? Nay, nay, do not speak for him; speak for yourself, young man." "My name is Roland Rashcliffe, your Majesty," I made answer.