Will Jackson, and none other, though now clad in very different garb! He it was who sat that black barb so royally; the King's plumed hat was in his left hand, while the right held that of Mrs Jane. It was at Will Jackson's words of thanks that she was smiling with such delight; it was he before whom Colonel Lane bent bare-headed to his saddlebow. The awkward lout who had never been in a gentleman's service, the ignorant clown, fresh from the plough-tail, the Roundhead, the traitor, had all vanished as if they had never been, and in their stead was King Charles the Second, smilingly complimenting the friends to whose care and caution he owed his safety. If the earth would have opened and swallowed him up, Featherstone thought he would have been thankful. But a worse ordeal was before him. As he sat on his now quiet horse, gazing open-mouthed and open-eyed, the King saw him, and the old twinkle, which Featherstone knew, came into the dark eyes. "Ha! I see an old friend yonder," said he comically. "I pray you, fetch my fellow-servant up to speak with me." Poor Featherstone was laid hold of, pulled off his horse, and pushed forward close to that of the King. "How do, Robin?" asked the merry monarch, who heartily enjoyed a little affair of this sort. "Nay, look not so scared, man--I am not about to cut off thine head." Featherstone contrived to mumble out something in which "forgive" was the only word audible. "Forgive thee! what for?" said King Charles. "For that thou knewest me not, and tookest me for a Roundhead? Why, man, it was just then the finest service thou couldst have done me. I have nought to forgive thee for save a glass of the best ale ever I drank, that thou drewest for me at breakfast on the morrow of my departing. Here, some of you"--His Majesty plunged both hands in turn into his pockets, and, as usual, found them empty. "What a plague is this money! Can none of you lend me a few louis?" The pockets of the suite proved to be almost as bare as those of the King. The Duke of Hamilton managed to find a half-louis (which he well knew he should never see again); Queen Henrietta was applied to in her coach, but in vain, as she either had no money, or did not choose to produce it, well knowing her son's extravagance and thoughtlessness. Colonel Lane had a sovereign, which he furnished. The King held them out to Featherstone. "There!" he said, "keep somewhat for thyself, and give somewhat to the little dairy-maid that took my part, and would have had me knock thee down. Tell her she'll make a brave soldier for my Guards, when all the men are killed. Divide it as thou wilt. Nay, but I must have a token for pretty Mrs Jenny." His Majesty cast his eyes about, and they fell on his plumed hat. Without a minute's consideration he loosened the diamond buckle. "Give her that," said he, "and tell her the King heartily agrees with her that Will Jackson's an ill-looking fellow."