“I have caught thee, James,”—­said the King,—­“but where, oh! where is the maid?  Has she flung thee off and escaped with thy guard, who left the gates wide, or didst thou expect us and had them placed so for our convenience?”

“’Tis certain, Sire, I have been foully treated.  I have been drugged and some valuable papers taken I had got hold on.”

“And who held the papers before thee, a pretty wench, eh?” Monmouth glanced suspiciously at Buckingham, who stood behind the King.

“Now indeed, Sire, I should like thy opinion upon her, and—­she hath a secret, as the Duke there can testify.”  Buckingham started, but met the King’s glance with a stolid countenance.

“And what is this secret, George?”

“’Tis something the Papists have enveigled the maid into bringing to thy notice, your Majesty,” and the Duke cast a contemptuous glance at Monmouth, who had made a wrong move.

“Then, by God! why was she detained?  Why did any one take the papers from her?” His Majesty looked not too kind at his son, who was now fair caught.  “We will send for her posthaste.”  The lackeys were questioned of the direction taken by the coaches that had just left the grounds, and a courier was sent after them, bearing the Royal command to Mistress Penwick to appear before his presence within three days.

The courier did not reach the inn until the party were about to set forth, on account of being turned repeatedly from his course by designing lackeys left along the way for the purpose.

Sir Julian, Katherine and Janet were standing at the coach door when Lady Constance came hurrying down the stairs to join them, unasked; for she was of no mind to let Cedric carry off Katherine without her.  She felt it would be worse than death.  As she opened her mouth to ask of Cedric—­for she saw he was not with the party—­the King’s messenger rode into the courtyard.  Mistress Penwick received the order from the courier with her own hand, and was rejoiced at it; Lady Constance flew to her chamber in an ecstasy; Sir Julian roundly disappointed at the news he must send Cedric, who had gone on toward Crandlemar.  There was no help for them now.  They were under the King’s order; but—­what might not happen in three days?

Sir Julian was as adamant when Constance proposed a trip to London, and would under no circumstances allow her to leave the inn.  Janet kept Katherine in complete seclusion, fearing lest some new thing should come upon them.  She did not fail, however, to tell Sir Julian of the monk’s visit to the grounds of the villa and of his project to accompany her to the King, when an audience should be granted.

“I am glad thou didst apprise me of this, Janet, for it gives me an idea.  I have seen lurking about several of the Order and have watched them carefully.”

The morning of the eventful day arrived.  Mistress Penwick was already gowned in a sombre old woman’s dress.  A hump was fastened to her shoulder; her face was darkened skillfully and leprous blotches painted thereon.  She stepped like a Queen, for all that, and ’twas feared her falseness would become evident to the King’s eye.