As the King drank--and he was a great taker of wine--he asked a multitude of questions concerning the Prisoner and Mrs. Greenville, to all of which Colonel Glover made answer in as plain a manner as was consistent with his deep loyalty and reverence. Soon, however, Colonel Glover found that his Majesty was paying far more attention to the bottle than to his conversation, and, about one in the morning, was conducted, with much reverence, to the Governor's own sleeping-chamber, which had been hastily prepared. His Majesty was quite Affable, but Haggard visibly. The impudent Lord was bestowed in the chamber which had been Ruth's, before she came to sleep so near Mrs. Greenville; and it is well he knew not what a pretty tenant the room had had, else would he have doubtless passed some villanous pleasantries thereupon. The King, who was always an early riser, was up betimes in the morning; and on Colonel Glover representing to him his sorrow for the mean manner in which he had of necessity been lodged, answered airily that he was better off there than in the Oak, or in Holland, without a styver in his pocket; "Although, oddsfish!" quoth his Majesty, "this Castle of mine seems fitter to harbour wild-ducks than Christians." And then nothing would suit his Majesty but to be introduced to Mrs. Greenville, with whom he was closeted two whole hours. He came forth from her chamber with his dark, saturnine face all flushed. "A brave woman!--a bold woman!" he kept saying. "An awful service she was like to have done me; and all to think that it was for love of poor Frank." For this Prince had known the Lord Francis well, and had shown him many favours. "And now, good Master Governor," the King continued, but with quite another expression on his countenance, "we will see your Man Captive, if it shall so please you." And the two went upstairs. This is all I am permitted to tell in this place of what passed between King Charles the Second and the Prisoner in the upper chamber:-- "You know me!" the King said, sitting over against him at the table, and scanning his face with dark earnestness. "You are Charles Stuart, second of the name on the throne of England." "You know I am in the possession of your secret--of the King's Secret; for of those dead it was known but to Oliver, as of those living it is now only known to yourself and to me." "And the young Man, Richard?" "He never knew it. His father never trusted him so far. He had doubts and suspicions, that was all." "Thank God!" said the prisoner. "What was Oliver's enmity towards you, that he should immure you here all these years?" "I had served him too well. He feared lest the Shedder of Blood should become the Avenger of Blood." "Are you sorry?" "Sorry!" cried the Prisoner, with a kind of scream. "Had he a thousand lives, had I a thousand hands, I would do the same deed to-morrow." And he struck the right hand that was covered with the velvet glove with cruel violence on to the oaken table.