“‘Yes, he is like the king,’ said Ashton, ‘and I have remarked it also, but never named it to him; but certain circumstances have transpired to-day which make me think that there is more than a likeness between them.’ “‘Indeed! how?’ said the colonel, astonished and interested. “‘At the review there were many distinguished people present, nobles among the number.’ “‘I know it.’ “‘But you do not know that the king was there?’ “‘You are surely joking?’ “‘I am not, colonel, for after the review was all over, the king, disguised as an ordinary gentleman, went boldly up to the principal of the academy, and had a long conversation with him about Lawrence. They did not perceive me, for I was sitting at my window reading, yet, as they walked to and fro, I could hear much of what they said.’ “‘And what did they say?’ “‘The king’s disguise was discovered by the president, and the monarch did not deny it, but in the course of conversation confessed that he had always felt great interest in Lawrence’s progress, for he was his own _son_.” “‘His own son!’ said the astonished colonel. “‘Yes, his own son—illegitimate, it is true, but nevertheless, his own true offspring.’ “‘And who was the mother?’ “‘That I did not then learn; but when Lawrence first came among us as a mere boy to the academy he wore a locket round his neck which was unmistakably the portrait on ivory of the young and fascinating Duchess of Buckingham. (See Cut in No. 13). From this I gather that she must have been his mother.’ “‘I am astonished,’ said the colonel. ‘And has not the king, then, provided for his after welfare?’ “‘Without a doubt. I heard him say that some grand and vast estates in France had been passed over to him, and that a large sum in money would be his when he married?’ “‘Then Lawrence is a false name—he is the king’s bastard?’ said the colonel. “‘He is,’ said Ashton. “‘Then he shall never marry my daughter,’ said Colonel Temple. “No bastard shall ever enter my family!’ “And so speaking he left the apartment, with a flushed face, and Ashton remained alone by the bedside of his wounded comrade, who was sighing in his troubled dreams and moaning. “Memories of years past flitted through his troubled brain, and the image of his adored one, Clare Temple, held supreme possession of all his faculties. “He had seen and known her when but a child. “She used to pass the college gardens on her way to school, with books and slate and dimity sun-bonnet trimmed with blue. “Years had passed. “She grew into girlhood, and short frocks and sun-bonnet gave place to a seminary uniform of blue-gauze and white chip quaker scoop, and her light and airy manner changed to that of a studious seminarian in her teens. “He had spoken to her, but met with no response. “He had anonymously written poems and tales in her honour. “But all had passed unnoticed. “She treated him with cold respect, and met his timid overtures with blunt rebuffs.