The king, propped up in bed, was flushed with anger; but when he perceived it was not Captain Jack, to whom he had given the ring, he appeared the more amazed. The door was closed upon Ned and Garnet, but the half sleepy page, in revenge for being awakened from sleep, listened at the door and heard all he could. Ned Warbeck, in a few words, explained all that had happened that night, and about his finding the ring. The king seemed at first very much annoyed, but he laughed off the matter, and said upon his word that the story about his intruding into Ellen Harmer’s chamber in Colonel Blood’s mansion was all a fiction. “Call to-morrow at the levée,” said he, “and I will see that justice is done both to you and the injured maid; but to-night I am weary. No, not to-morrow; I forgot there is no levée until Thursday, so that you will have ample time to arrange everything to your satisfaction. And in token of how much I appreciate your valour in the affair of to-night with the gang of that rascal, Captain Jack, and the terrible Skeleton Crew, I fully pardon from all transgressions whoever aided you in defeating the villains.” “Thanks, your majesty. But what document have we to prove it?” said Ned. “Give me pen, ink, and paper.” These were found upon a side table. With a hurried scrawl, the king wrote down a few words, granting a free pardon for all officers in favour of those who had assisted Ned and Garnet. Moreover, he signed the paper, and sealed it with his own signet ring and gave it to Ned. But, while this was going on in the royal chamber, Bob Bertram, in the palace-yard, was very near getting in a serious difficulty. Ned and Garnet had not left him more than five minutes, when Colonel Blood hastily rode up and dismounted from his horse. He perceived the carriage, and began to question Bob. “Whose vehicle is that, sirrah?” he asked, looking at it attentively. “It looks like a hired one.” “It is my master’s, sir,” answered Bob. “And who is your master?” “A gentleman, sir.” “If you answer me in that manner again I’ll knock you off your seat. Who is your master, sirrah?” “Captain Warbeck, of the royal navy.” “Ha! and is he with the king?” “He is.” “The devil! before me again, eh?” said Blood, angrily, but in an under tone. “What’s his business here at such an unseemly hour?” “You had better ask him, sir; he won’t be long.” “Confound the impudence of the rascal. What is your name?” “Bob Bertram,” was the answer, “and not ashamed to own it,” said Bob, with all the innocence in the world, and never dreaming of the consequences. “Bertram, Bertram?” said Colonel Blood, thinking. “I have heard that name before.” “Perhaps so, sir; but what of it?” Colonel Blood did not answer at the moment, but referred to a small gold-clasped memorandum book he carried in his breast pocket.