"Know the river?" she exclaimed, in answer to my question. "I know it as well as I know Gracious Street. I have shot the arches of London Bridge with the spring tide going out, and there is many a waterman who would not dare try it. If need be, I'll take you through the middle arch, where the flambeau hangs, and land you at Deptford or Sheerness, or Holland, I care not which." So there was no fear in her heart. If courage was the touchstone of fortune, we were sure to win, for there was no fear in any heart save George's, and ordinarily he was the bravest of us all. When all arrangements were made, even to engaging a small boat, which was to wait for us at Westminster stairs, I took to my bed for the rest of the day. At six o'clock I received the treaties and the bill of exchange from Hamilton and delivered them to Frances. Then I went to fetch Bettina. Grammont had offered to go with us, when we explained what we were to do and the danger in doing it, and we were glad to have him and his sword, for we might find ourselves in straits where we should need both. He and Hamilton were to meet me at the head of King's Street. Each of us was to carry a long sword and to have a pistol, charged and primed, in his belt. After leaving the parchments with Frances, I hastened to bring Betty up to Whitehall, and, shortly after eight o'clock, met Du Boise and De Grammont at King's Street arch, all of us wearing full vizards. We walked down to the boat, De Grammont frequently taking notice of Bettina, for, despite her full vizard and an enveloping cloak, she was far too attractive not to rivet his attention. When we reached Westminster stairs, we found the boat awaiting us. We did not want the watermen to go with us, so I bought the boat and dismissed them. We entered the boat, and when Bettina took the stern oar, De Grammont asked:-- "Who is she--the lady on the stern thwart? Can she steer the boat? Does she know the river?" "Yes, to all of your questions, count," I answered. "'Yes' doesn't answer the first question," he returned. "It isn't to be answered," I replied curtly, and he returned with an apologetic "Pardon!" Just before nine o'clock we took Frances aboard at Whitehall Garden Stairs and drifted slowly down to the king's privy stairs, from which the narrow flight of steps rose to the king's closet in the story above. When we drew up at the privy stairs, Frances stepped out of the boat to the landing and whispered:-- "I shall arrange in some way to return, just as soon as the king signs the treaty, but if you hear me scream, come to my rescue. I am prepared to defend myself, and shall give the signal only when I must."